Page 76 of Meet Me at Sunset

Paulo had clearly rammed the Ferrari off the road either by accident or on purpose, which ultimately caused Andre’s death. Taking Nicolas’s advice, Camille had decided not to take it further. Paulo would likely be going to prison for a long time anyway, and by the time of his release, Camille hoped they would all have come to terms with what had happened.

It had been a lot to process, along with the discovery that Andre wasn’t his father, and Nicolas was. On some level, Lucas wondered if he’d always suspected it. He and Andre were very different people, and his mother had always been close to Nicolas, though Lucas didn’t know the extent of their history. As far as he was concerned, he would always think of Andre – the man who had raised him and loved him as his own – as his father. But Lucas was close to his godfather Nicolas, who had always been in their lives, and always as a force for good. He loved and respected him, and now that the truth was out there, both men were keen to build on their existing relationship.

Lucas had wrestled with the revelations over the past few weeks, but the one thing that had stopped him from losing his mind was Stephanie. They’d been inseparable in the days that followed the Camille Andre show, getting to know each other, taking walks in the old town, on the beach, swimming in the sea, and making love at night, sleeping wrapped in one another’s arms. They’d fallen hard for one another, each day a step towards healing and repairing their wounds, cushioned by the bubble of happiness they’d created. Both had been damaged, in different ways, by their upbringings, each battling feelings of not being good enough or deserving of love, but together, they were slowly overcoming their insecurities and moving forwards.

The Range Rover slowed down as it approached the filming location. From his window, Lucas could see an entire set springing up out of the barren moors, with a veritable fleet of trailers and Winnebagos parked up on the scrubland, dozens of crew members scurrying around, with camera equipment, lights and reflectors all set up. Stephanie reached for the car door, then hesitated.

‘Everything OK?’ Lucas asked.

She looked up at him and nodded, but he could see the clear tension on her face, and the fear clouding her dazzling blue eyes.

‘Stephanie, you are the most incredible woman, you know that? You’ve overcome so much in life, and now you’re back here with the courage to face your fears. You should be so proud of yourself. I’m proud of you. You’ve been here for me these past few weeks whilst I dealt with everything I needed to, and now I’m here for you. I love you, Stephanie Moon.’

Stephanie’s expression had transformed during Lucas’s speech, and she gazed at him, her anxiety draining away and a look of steely determination flashing across her features. ‘I love you too,’ she murmured, leaning across to kiss him, and Lucas felt the familiar stirring in his body. He couldn’t get enough of her. If it was up to him, they would turn the car around and head straight back to the cottage with its inviting double bed, but he knew that this was where Stephanie needed to be right now.

‘I’m so glad you’re with me today,’ she told him. ‘I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else beside me on my first day back.’

‘I’ll be with you, whenever you need me,’ Lucas promised, as the driver opened the car door and the two of them stepped out. The fresh, early morning breeze whipped across the moorland, waking them up, stinging their eyes and making their faces glow.

Lucas hung back, letting Stephanie go ahead, as the cast and crew turned to greet her. He could almost see her confidence returning, blossoming beneath their warm welcome. She looked so beautiful and natural, completely in her element. This was where she was meant to be. She was a star, and Lucas felt almost overwhelmed by the strength of his feelings for her.

Stephanie turned around and smiled at him, catching his eye, and Lucas grinned back. Whatever had happened to them in the past was over. He and Stephanie had their whole futures ahead of them, and he couldn’t wait to see where life would take them.

Isobel put the finishing touches to her outfit and checked her reflection in the hallway mirror. She’d lost weight – partly due to the stress of the ongoing divorce with Stuart, but also due to her new Parisian lifestyle. She was living on coffee and niçoise salad, and walking everywhere, eager to reacquaint herself with the iconic city.

Isobel had rented a small apartment in the seventh arrondissement on a short-term let, until she determined what her future would look like. From there, it was a short stroll across the Pont d’Alma to the Camille Andre offices, and she’d made the trip every day for the past month.

Today was a scorcher, and Isobel luxuriated in the heat, enjoying the feel of the sun on her bare arms, aware of the glances she was attracting from the French men as she passed by. It was a welcome boost to her ego, but Isobel wasn’t looking for love right now. The experience with Stuart had bruised her. More than that, in fact, it had devastated her, making her question everything about their marriage. She found herself tossing and turning at night, unable to sleep, wondering if she’d somehow driven her husband into the arms of another woman. Deep down, Isobel knew that was ridiculous – nothing could excuse Stuart’s behaviour, and blaming herself was ludicrous – but it played on her insecurities.

The story coming out in the national newspapers had been one of the worst times of her life. She’d been utterly humiliated, and for a few days had been a virtual prisoner in her own home whilst journalists knocked on the door, offering big-money deals to tell her side of the story. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted.

Ironically, Stuart and the Goddess from Girona had broken up a couple of weeks later, and he’d been begging Isobel to come back, but she had steadfastly refused. Thanks to Camille, she had other options.

‘Bonjour,’ Isobel smiled brightly as she entered the Camille Andre building on Avenue Marceau, calling hello to Françoise on reception.

Isobel passed through the light, airy offices, which hummed with activity, looking at the sketches being drawn by the design team, and exclaiming over some material samples which had just arrived. She sat down at her desk, putting down her handbag – a ‘Camille’, naturally – and firing up her computer. Whilst she waited for her emails to come through, she pulled a sketch pad towards her and began doodling. She had an idea for a bridal gown that would be perfect for closing the next runway show …

‘Isobel?’

René appeared beside her desk, and she smiled at him. ‘Yes?’

‘Camille would like to see you in her office, whenever you’re free.’

‘Of course,’ Isobel replied. ‘I’ll be right there.’ She quickly added a few pencil lines to the sketch then stood up, smoothing down her dress. It was her own design, a light sundress in a bold, lemon-print fabric, which was part of her final collection for the boutique in Edinburgh. For now, Isobel had left it in the capable hands of the manager, Freya, giving her a substantial pay rise and free rein over which designers to stock.

Isobel made her way over to Camille’s glass-fronted office, at the far end of the atelier. She couldn’t help but think how different the company was from when she’d first interned there, almost a decade ago. Back then, Camille Andre had occupied one floor and were still relatively unknown outside the industry. Now, the company had taken over the entire building and was a household name, thanks to the ‘Camille’ bag. A lot had changed for both women over the past ten years.

‘You wanted to see me?’ Isobel asked, as Camille saw her coming and beckoned her in.

‘Yes. Take a seat.’ Camille smiled, gesturing to the Eames chair opposite her own. ‘I wanted to catch up and see how everything’s going. You’re doing a wonderful job, and I hope you’re enjoying being here.’

‘Yes, I am. Every minute. I can’t thank you enough for giving me a second chance.’

‘It was the least I could do after … well, you know.’

Isobel smiled, smoothing over any awkwardness. Shortly after the show at the palacio, and its chaotic aftermath, Camille had got in touch with Isobel. The two women had had a heart-to-heart during a long telephone conversation, and Camille had offered Isobel a trial in a senior design position at Camille Andre. It meant a new start and a new city – exactly what Isobel needed.

She hadn’t hesitated to say yes. Her house was being staked out by journalists, and Isobel simply packed a bag and took a taxi to the airport, eager to leave her old life with its memories of Stuart behind.