Once they were pronounced husband and wife, we spent the next hour taking pictures, and then came the reception. So far—through the couple’s first dance, the sit-down dinner, the toasts and speeches, and cutting of the cake—I’ve managed to successfully avoid Jase. Nick and Olivia have announced their departure, thanking everyone for joining them, and I’ve just taken a deep breath, feeling confident that I might make it through the wedding and reception without running into Jase. But apparently my confidence was premature, because I haven’t even finished exhaling, when I spot a beautiful red-head, dressed in a pale pink shift dress, heading straight over to me. She locks eyes with me, grinning wide, and I know my luck has run out.
“Celeste!” Skyla screeches, and Adam gives me a curious look. “You’re here! Wow! Your dress is gorgeous. Not quite as beautiful as your spring couture line, but still gorgeous, especially for a bridesmaid’s dress. Have you seen some of the ones brides pick out? I swear they design them ugly on purpose, so they can’t outdo the bride.” She shivers dramatically, her nose scrunching up in disgust, and I giggle, having thought the same thing earlier. “It is possible to go simple and pretty without outshining the bride.” When she stops speaking, her eyes find Adam and she smiles, as if she’s just now noticing I’m not sitting alone.
“Hello,” she says, lifting her chin a tad and extending her hand. “I’m Skyla.” Adam takes her hand in his, and I notice her nails are done. They aren’t fake, but they’re long and neat, and she’s sporting a french manicure.
“Skyla, this is my friend Adam. He’s a model.”
“I know.” She nods. “I’ve seen you in ads for Ralph Lauren, Tom Ford, Gap, and for Celeste’s clothing line,” she says matter-of-factly. Adam’s eyes light up, and I grin. Girl knows her stuff.
“I was,” Adam says, extending his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Are you a model?”
“Not yet. Dad says I’m too young”—she rolls her eyes—“but I plan to be. I also want to design jewelry and makeup and clothes like Celeste does, but I’ll have a children’s and teen line as well. You have no idea how hard it is to find stylish clothes when you’re a kid, and being a teenager isn’t much better. Designers don’t seem to understand that not all teens want to dress trashy.”
Taking a closer look at Skyla’s outfit, I notice the tiny gold tulle layers and the embellished gold sequin flowers on her dress. Then my gaze goes down to her matching pale pink ballet flats. I’m not sure who she’s wearing, but I know her outfit isn’t cheap. The girl seriously has good taste in fashion.
I can’t help the laugh that escapes when I think about how ironic it is that Jase’s daughter is the exact opposite of him. I can’t even imagine how he deals with her. Then it hits me… he probably doesn’t. It’s probably all her mom—Amaya. And with that sobering thought, my laughter comes to an abrupt halt.
“I agree,” Adam says to Skyla. “Class over trash any day.”
When he shoots me a confused look, silently asking who this girl is, I say, “Skyla is Jase’s daughter.” It takes him a second, but I can tell when it all clicks. He’s one of the few people who knows my entire story. “Is your dad here?” I ask Skyla. The last thing I need is to run into Jase…and his date.
“He’s getting us another piece of cake. I wish my mom could be here. Red Velvet is her favorite.”
“Why couldn’t she be here?” I ask before I can stop my nosiness.
Her lips turn down into a frown. “She’s sick.” Then, as if she’s just remembered something, her face lights back up. “My dad said I can give her the paper you signed. We’re going to visit her this summer once school’s out.”
Her words swirl in my head, and it hits me that she said they’re going to visit her this summer. They must not be together after all. If they were, they wouldn’t be going to visit her. Well, serves him right. But then I feel bad because if they aren’t together that means Skyla is part of a broken family, and I wouldn’t wish that on any child.
“Will you be in Paris for Fashion Week?” Skyla asks.
“Leblanc will be participating, but I won’t personally be there. I’m actually partaking in a new fashion show, right here in New York.”
“Oh! The Global Fashion Extravaganza? I heard it’s going to be amazing! That it could even possibly replace Fashion Week.”
Adam laughs. “Well, look at you! All in the know. You should be interning at Leblanc.” He gives me a knowing look, which I ignore.
“I’m still in school,” Skyla says with a shrug.
“You’re right,” I tell her, “it is the Global Fashion Extravaganza, also known as GFE. We’re hoping, not to replace Fashion Week, but give fashion four seasons instead of two. There’s also a huge charity fashion show on the last day.”