Breaking Through (The Breaking Series Book 3) (6 page)

“Did you just squeal?” she asked, skeptical. I nodded. “You never squeal. Okay, spill. What’s in that letter?”

“An invitation for an interview with a famous fashion designer whose studio is in Santa Barbara!”

“Oh, wow. That sounds cool. Congrats!”

“It is!” I looked at the letter again. Wow, this was unexpectedly great.

My mother had taken Hannah and I to have dresses done by Fallon White a couple of times—our christenings, our debutante balls, and our sweet sixteen—and Hannah was talking about having her wedding dress done with her too. If I got an internship there this summer, maybe Fallon White would let me help with it.

There was only one problem. I had my first final exam on Friday morning. Crap.

Praying for my professor to be nice for once, I pulled out my cell phone from my tote and sent him an email, saying I had an emergency and had to head to Santa Barbara on early Friday morning.

I bit my nails until he answered later that day, saying he had another session of the same class on Monday and, if I wanted, I could go to that final exam instead. After checking my schedule and making sure I didn’t have another class at that same time, I squealed once more and emailed him, confirming the switch.

It had been so long since I had felt this good, this satisfied. I held on to that feeling with both hands, hoping it wouldn’t be able to escape me so soon.

***

In the sunlight, the white building shone bright, almost blindingly, in the warm Friday morning. It wasn’t massive, but suddenly, the three stories had become intimidating. The first story had floor-to-ceiling windows displaying the newest collection, a huge silver F and W logo hung in the middle of the second story, and asymmetrical long, but thin windows decorated the third story.

I gulped, wishing I could swallow my nervousness.

While driving here, I had called my therapist. Not because I was on the verge of having a panic attack—exactly the contrary. For the first time in three years, I felt good. I felt confident, powerful, in control. I could do this. I could live my life. I could let go of my fears. I wanted to tell her that, make her proud of me.

“I’m proud of you,” she had said, “and I’ll be even more if you tell me you’re proud of yourself.”

Was I proud of myself? I guess so. I was still curious about how Fallon White found out about me, but did it really matter? Bottom line was she had found me, and now I was here to sweep her off her feet. Who knew? Maybe she would love me so much, she would ask me to come back every summer. Then she would offer me a permanent position within her studio, one that I would gladly accept—for some time, just to learn more and more with the best. Then, when I felt ready, I would open my own studio.

I had never told anyone about this dream, not in three years, though I guess people assumed I would like to have my own studio since I was working in the fashion industry. My only doubt was, to open it in Santa Barbara and be near my family but have to compete with Fallon White, or to open a studio in Los Angeles where I could have more clientele—and also more competition.

I shook those thoughts from my mind, because they were out of place. This was not the time to daydream about so far away in the future. I would worry about that when the time came. Now, I had to focus on the next step of my journey.

My cell phone beeped—I had set a reminder for 10:55 a.m. After a deep breath, I stepped inside the studio.

A receptionist, dressed in a beautiful white and light gray casual dress, smiled at me from behind a white, curved reception desk.

“Good morning. How can I help you?”

“Hi. I’m Hilary Taylor. I have an interview with Ms. White in a few minutes.”

The receptionist—Sonya, the silver tag on her chest read—glanced at the computer screen for three seconds. “Yes, I see you.” She gestured to the large white sectional to the side. “Please have a seat. I’ll let Fallon know you’re here.”

I turned and sat on the soft sectional. From here, the studio looked quiet, as if it was empty, except for the receptionist. To the left, a three-foot wall rose, and white lines like fringes hung from the ceiling, meeting the wall. The lines were dotted with small lights blinking in a slow, alternating pattern. The wall and light curtain separated the dresses being shown in the windows.

“Miss Taylor,” the receptionist called me. I jumped from my seat and found her standing in front of the desk. “Fallon is ready for you. Please, follow me.”

She stepped to the left of the front desk and opened a white door for me. The door led into a long, white corridor with several doors on each side and one set of double doors at the end. Of course, Sonya took me there.

“This way,” she said, opening the doors.

Seated on a tall, white leather chair behind a long glass table, Fallon White was just as I remembered. Tall with generous curves, a sharp nose, white hair cut into an asymmetrical bob, and dark brown eyes behind white-rimmed glasses. Even in her late forties, she looked young and elegant.

“Hilary Taylor,” Fallon said, walking around her desk to meet me. “It’s nice seeing you again.”

“You too, Ms. White.”

She huffed. “Please, call me Fallon.” She gestured for me to sit on one of the white chairs in front of her table. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m doing well. Very excited to be here.”

She took the chair beside mine. “I’m excited too.”

Sonya appeared by my side. “Can I get you anything, Miss Taylor? Coffee, water, juice?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

Sonya nodded then left the room, closing the doors behind her.

“So,” Fallon said. “Let’s talk business.”

***

I arrived at the bistro six minutes late. Bia was already at a table in the middle of the little restaurant, looking at the menu. She probably got here six minutes before
the agreed time. I had to walk past the bar and noticed several men having lunch alone—most were drinking beer at noon on a workday, and some were looking at the females in the bistro. Including Bia and me.

A little spark of fear made its way down my body, and I tried to remember that was normal. Guys were like that. They looked at pretty girls. And Bia was stunning. She deserved to be looked at.

Still, I couldn’t shake the fear and the disgust that took root in my gut.

I halted beside the table and pulled out my chair. “Hi.”

“
Oi guria
,” Bia said, lowering the menu. “Are you going to end my misery and tell me what you are doing in Santa Barbara?”

“What do you mean?”

“Usually, you have class Friday mornings and, when you come home to spend the weekend, you don’t arrive until late in the afternoon. So, when you invited me to have lunch, I knew something was up. Spill!”

I smiled. “I just had an interview for an internship with the greatest fashion designer in Santa Barbara. Hell, she’s one of the best in the country.”

“Really? That’s great! Good luck. I hope you get it.”

“Me too. Although, if I get it, I’ll have to cancel my registration for the two classes I was going to take this summer. Which is no big deal. I had just signed up for them so I had something to do. It never occurred to me to apply for an internship after just one year of college.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it. Your designs are incredible. She would have to be insane to pass you up.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, okay. Let’s change the subject. I need to stop thinking about this interview, or I’ll bite my nails off. I probably won’t hear about it for another week or so, and I’ll drive myself crazy until then.”

While we looked over the menu and ordered our lunch, Bia told me about her week. She and Garrett shared an apartment and went to vet school together—though he was one year ahead of her. I couldn’t imagine being together all day and all night, but they managed okay. In fact, I thought they always ended up cranky whenever they spent some rare time apart.

Bia and I had just finished our post-lunch coffee when my cell phone rang.

I looked at the screen and didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”

“Hilary? This is Fallon White. Hello again.”

With wide eyes, I stared at Bia and pointed to my phone. “Hi, Fallon. Did I forget something at your studio?”

She chuckled. “No, dear. I’m calling you to let you know you got the job.”

I froze. “W-what?”

She chuckled again. “The internship is yours if you still want it.”

My heart skipped a beat before going into overdrive. “I do!”

“All right, then. I’ll send you some forms via email. Bring them in when you start, the week after your spring semester is over, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Great.”

“Thanks, Fallon.”

“My pleasure, dear. I’ll see you soon.”

I lowered my phone, but couldn’t stop staring at Bia.

“You got the internship,” she said. Not a question, but I nodded even so. “That’s awesome!
Parabéns
!” Her voice was loud enough to make some heads turn our way. That brought me out of my stupor.

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t think this through.”

“What do you mean?”

“My house is ninety minutes from here. I can’t come and go every day. It would be insane.”

“Then stay with Garrett and me!” She sounded excited. She looked excited with those big, sea-green eyes shining bright.

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to reason what the best option here was. I knew she meant it, and she would really like it, but I also knew me. I would feel like a third wheel on their well-oiled machine. I wouldn’t feel comfortable.

Coming and going back from my house was out of the question, though. To spend three hours per day in my car coming and going wasn’t for me. There was also Hannah’s ranch, which was only twenty-thirty minutes from town, but like with Bia, Hannah had Leo and now that they were engaged … gosh, I didn’t even want to think about it.

It would be better to stay in a hotel for the summer months or …

“I could rent a furnished apartment.”

Bia’s smile fell. “You don’t want to stay with me?”

“I really, really appreciate the offer, but I prefer having my own place, even if temporary.”

She frowned at me, her mind working, I was sure. “Okay, I understand, I guess.” She stood up, a smile on her pretty face. “Let’s go apartment hunting!”

“Now?”

She caught my hand and pulled me up. “
Sim,
right now.”

Chapter Four

“I’m so happy for you,” my sister said, embracing me.

“Thanks.” I squeezed her. “I think it’s great that I’m going to be here this summer. This way I can help out more with the weddings preparations.”

“That
is
great.” My sister let me go and turned back to the island-slash-bar that divided the kitchen from the dining table, where she was preparing a whiskey with coke for her and Bia.

The guys’ large apartment was in a fancy building in the nicest neighborhood in Santa Barbara. It had a big family room, dining area, and open kitchen, an office, and four suites. Bia’s apartment was close, only two blocks away, but hers was much smaller, with only two bedrooms in a quieter building. Ri and Lauren’s townhouse was about ten minutes away. Not a problem, but their neighbors always complained about the noise every time we met there. So every time someone planned a get-together, we ended up at the guys’ place.

“You should have seen the apartments we looked at yesterday afternoon,” Bia said, seated on one of the high bar stools lining the kitchen’s bar counter.

“And this morning,” I filled in.

Yesterday, she hadn’t relented until we went looking for furnished apartments. I didn’t think we would find many, but we ended up finding some gems. All of them only a couple of blocks from either hers or the guys’ apartments.

“And this morning,” she repeated. “Have you decided on one yet?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. They all have good things and bad things.”

“Oh yeah,” Bia said. “That one with the white flooring had a funny smell. And the one with the big bedroom had centuries-old furniture that will probably break as soon as you use them.”

“Exactly. Besides, I haven’t even talked to my parents about this idea. I guess they are assuming I’ll either stay at home, or crash at Hannah’s.”

“You know my house is your house,” my sister said.

“I know, but I already told you. You guys have your own routine, customs, and whatever. If it were for only one or two weeks, it would be okay, but for three months? No. That’s too much and I wouldn’t feel comfortable.”

“She told me the same thing when I offered for her to stay at my place,” Bia said.

“See? Besides,” I continued, “you and Leo just got engaged. I can’t imagine how steamy things are around that house right now. I don’t want to imagine.”

Bia scrunched her nose. “Eww!”

My sister barely paid attention to the last words I said. With dopey eyes, she gazed at Leo, probably imaging all the steamy things they were doing around that house. Double eww!