"She wants nothing to do with him... He would be miserable without her."
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Meet Sophie Franklin, a fiercely independent fashion designer who lives in New York, and then there's Marcus Beadoux, a dashing prince with...
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Hours have passed since Reina and Marcus left my studio, yet their lingering presence continues to disrupt my focus. Clutching the document before me, my attempt to read devolves into a futile struggle against memories of Marcus and the revelations unveiled just moments ago.
Across the table is my sister Jessica, who has been going on about the progress of my business and several things we could do to make it better. Things I'm barely listening to right now. While I am the creative director of my brand and devote all of my time to the dresses I make, Jessica handles all the business parts. She's the best manager I could have ever asked for though she could be rather annoying when she wants to be. The disadvantage of having a relative to run your business along with you.
When she sees I'm not responding, she pauses in her speech and leans forward, her eyes scanning my face with an unwavering gaze. "Sophie, is everything alright? You've barely said anything since I arrived."
I let out a smile, doing my best to appear neutral. "Of course I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" I mutter before scoffing, picking up another piece of document and trying to read through it once more. I can barely register the words on it.
"That's not how someone who is fine sounds like," she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest as she peers down at me. "What's going on with you?"
"Like I said, there's nothing wrong. Let it go already," I mutter through gritted teeth, feeling my frustration mount.
She narrows her eyes, not buying my feeble attempt at diversion. "Sophie, don't play games with me. I know you. Spill it."
"You're starting to get very annoying right now," I snap back, and immediately regret it. Her gaze hardens, but she lets out a sigh and waves it off.
"Whatever, you do what you want," she mutters, looking away. I let out a sigh, feeling guilty.
"Are you already mad at me?"
"Why would I be mad? It's up to you to tell me if you want to, and from the looks of it, you don't want to. So, I won't press." She says. Though she looks okay with it, she still sounds rather peeved.
I nod, partly relieved she isn't pushing but also quite disappointed that she didn't force me to tell her either. Jessica can be rather tenacious when she wants to be. The urge to tell someone gnaws at me, however and soon I find myself opening my mouth to talk to her.
"It's just... Something happened and I really don't want to talk about it. At least, not right now."
"Just like I said, suit yourself." She says and the conversation is closed. We continue with more important things but when my attention keeps wavering, Jessica just had to stop.
"It seems you're out of it today. Why don't you retire early so you can get yourself back together?" Jessica suggests, and I find myself contemplating it. Then, I shake my head afterwards.
