Chapter 3: The Number She Didn't Recognize
I stood in the middle of Atelier Fontaine with the alteration order in one hand and my phone in the other.
My mother was watching me read the message.
Graham had gone very still near the velvet sofa.
Sienna was the only one who spoke.
"Who is that?"
"I don't know," I said.
I looked up at Margot.
She was still behind the counter, both hands flat on the marble, watching all of us the way a person watches a fire they aren't sure is going to stay contained.
"Margot," I said.
"Did anyone else come in tonight?
Before me?"
She hesitated one second too long.
"A woman.
She was here for about twenty minutes.
She said she had an appointment but I couldn't find her name in the system."
"What did she look like?"
"Older.
Gray coat.
She kept looking at the alteration board near the back."
Graham picked up Sienna's heels from the sofa.
"Jules, whatever that message is, it can wait.
We need to talk.
All of us.
Somewhere that isn't here."
"You've had fourteen months to talk to me," I said.
"You can wait a few more minutes."
I typed back to the unknown number.
*Who are you?*
The reply came in under ten seconds.
*Someone who was at Ashcombe Glasshouse last April when Graham signed the deposit contract.
He didn't sign it alone.*
My eyes went to Graham.
He was watching my face, trying to read it.
"What does it say?" Sienna asked.
I didn't answer her.
I typed again.
*What do you mean he didn't sign alone?*
Three dots appeared.
Then: *Your mother co-signed the venue contract.
Fourteen months ago.
I have the paperwork.*
The room was very quiet.
The gardenias smelled too strong.
My mother had moved to stand near the fitting room doorway.
She was holding herself in that particular way she had — shoulders back, chin level — the posture she used when she had already decided she was not going to apologize for something.
"Mom," I said.
"You co-signed the Ashcombe contract."
It was not a question.
Her expression confirmed that before she said a word.
"I was protecting Sienna," she said.
"From what?" I asked.
"From me?"
"From a situation that was already over." She said it evenly.
Like it was reasonable.
Like I was the one being difficult.
"Graham and Sienna had already made their decision.
The kindest thing I could do—"
"Was forge a wedding on top of mine," I said.
"It wasn't forged.
It was a new booking."
"At my venue.
On my date.
In my dress." I set my phone down on the counter.
"Tell me one thing.
Was the proposal real?"
Graham's head came up.
"Was any of it real?" I asked him directly.
"The Tuesday in the kitchen.
The ring.
Did you mean any of it, or was that you buying time?"
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Sienna answered for him.
"He panicked.
He felt guilty and he panicked and he thought if he proposed to you he could—"
"Sienna." Graham's voice was sharp.
"She deserves to know," Sienna said, and for one half-second she almost sounded sorry.
"Know what?" I said.
Neither of them answered.
My phone buzzed again on the counter.
I picked it up.
*There's more.
The deposit wasn't the only thing your mother paid for.
Can we meet?
Tonight if possible.
I'm still in Bellmare.*
I looked at my mother.
At Graham.
At my sister standing barefoot in my gown with my grandmother's embroidery catching the light around her.
"I'm leaving," I said.
"Juliet—" my mother started.
"Don't follow me out," I said.
"Either of you."
I picked up the alteration order from the counter and folded it once, cleanly, and put it in my coat pocket.
Then I looked at Margot.
"The gown stays here," I said.
"Don't release it to anyone.
Not for alterations, not for pickup, not for anything.
I'll be in touch about next steps."
Margot nodded immediately.
"Of course, Ms.
Hale."
I walked to the door.
The brass bell chimed when I pushed it open.
Outside, the night air was cool.
I stood on the pavement and typed one more message to the unknown number.
*Tell me where.*
The reply came before I reached my car.
*The coffee place on Aldgate Street.
The one with the blue awning.
I'll be at the back table.
May you like
My name is Rosalind.
I used to work for Graham's family.*
