From Time

Sois à moi💍 Part 1

sois à moi - French.
In English it means "be mine".

I'm home alone for the next few weeks before my schedule explodes. After that, it's nonstop—Paris to London, show after show. Victoria's Secret has been talking to my team, wanting me on board. In the next two weeks we're supposed to finalize everything and meet. I'm already saying yes in my head—being a VS girl has been my dream since forever.

But that also meant I had to send my baby girl to Canada to stay with her grandma. My mom thinks it's the perfect arrangement. Five months, minimum. When I told Ms. Sandi, she lit up. She hardly gets to spend time with Áaela since she lives so far away. And I'm that mom—the one who likes her child glued to her hip—so usually she sees Drake's mom only once a year, in December or August. Now it's just me in this big-ass house until I leave in two weeks.

The afternoon sunlight warmed my skin as I sat by the pool, aimlessly scrolling through Instagram. The water glistened, my legs swinging off the lounge chair... when the doorbell rang.

I froze for a second.
Who the hell...?

I dropped my phone on the chair and headed inside. When I pulled open the front door, a girl around my age stood there, dressed cute, polished, and looking like she had a purpose.

"Hi, Ms. Adagio,"

she greeted with a bright professional smile.

"My name is Emily. I'm Mr. Johnson's assistant, and he wanted me to deliver these to you."

"These?"

I echoed—right as two men walked up behind her carrying massive round black Chanel boxes filled with roses. My eyebrows shot up.

Emily laughed nervously.

"Oh—and I almost forgot. He would've killed me."

She reached into a yellow file jacket and pulled out a gold envelope.

"He also sent this."

Before I could even take that in, another guy walked up carrying three white boxes tied with gold ribbons... plus two huge shopping bags—one Chanel, one Bottega Veneta.

I blinked.

"Is that all?"

I asked with a half-smile, peeking at the floral mountains invading my doorway.

Three giant boxes of roses... and all that other stuff.
Jay knew I was upset, huh? He must really be in apology mode.

"Yes, that's everything,"

Emily said.

"Well, thank you, Ms. Emily. Tell Jay I'll let him know if I like it."

I laughed lightly.

She smiled, nodded, and left with her team.

I closed the door behind me and set the gold envelope on the kitchen counter. But I didn't even pretend I wasn't excited—I went straight for the boxes.

I tugged the ribbon off the largest white box. Inside, beneath layers of soft tissue paper, lay a dress—sleek, elegant, deadly. My jaw dropped. I opened the next box: heels, gorgeous ones. The third: a delicate necklace that sparkled like it had its own ego.

Finally, I grabbed the gold envelope. I braced myself for whatever cheesy apology Jay had written this time.

I unfolded the letter.

⸻

Letter:

I have to apologize for being MIA...
But I think it's better if I show you.
So... WE'RE GOING TO PARIS, BABY!