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Chapter 1
Claire
I’m done.
I did it, no matter the obstacles and all the long hours when I thought I would give up. I am so done. A giddiness fills me, and I tamp down the urge to squeal.
I am done! With a smile I can’t hide, I click the submit button and let my exam answers speed through the ether to the instructor. She will probably grade them tonight, and after that, I will officially be the latest fashion design graduate from the International Fashion Academy in Paris. Not only that, but I’ll be able to appreciate that extra line of fancy calligraphy on my diploma, too, a side note of my extra studies being completed.
I’ve busted my butt for years to maintain good grades for my bachelor’s in fashion design, but I went the extra distance to complete the university’s bridal program on top of it. And it’s coming to a close at last. All those days of studying, all those nights of perfecting projects. Those will be nothing but distant memories.
“Finished?” the instructor asks as I head toward the door.
I nod and smile wider, so much so that my cheeks start to ache. “Yes. Yes, I am.” I couldn’t be prouder of myself, but it’s not the time to dally and share more than a hug with her as she wishes me well. Taking the last exams for my classes was only one thing on my list today. The tasks I’ve got lined up for this afternoon are just as important and pressing.
I leave the room with lifted spirits, high on the success of simply getting to this point. My heart has always been in design, and my passion has never wavered from the exciting blank canvas of designing bridal gowns. Some of the courses I took weren’t as fun, but I trudged through them all to reach this point. No one enjoys electives and the other junk that supposedly makes an education more well-rounded, but those days are over. I won’t have to put up with annoying classmates. No more early test times. No more logging in to check if assignments have been graded with the steady stress of aiming for perfection. I won’t miss being a student, but as I hurry down the hall to exit the large, old building in the heart of Paris, I’m happy I’ve put myself through it.
Now, I’ll have the credentials to back myself up. I won’t just be another girl who likes to look at pretty dresses and boast that she could make them. I can prove that I’ve studied it extensively and met the approval of other trusted designers. And if I have any chance of making my real dream come true and one day, have my own wedding gown shop, this is the first hurdle cleared.
Get my degree: check.
Get married so I can have access to my trust fund and use the billions waiting for me there as a capital investment to make it happen…That’s next.
Without giving myself a chance to catch my breath from the whirlwind of emotions, I hurry home to hop in the shower to get ready for my wedding. It won’t be one of my dreams. Not even close. In just forty minutes, I’ll be eloping with my boyfriend, and that’s close enough.
It’s a roller coaster of high emotions that fuel me to hustle. After the anxiety and suspense of preparing for and taking my final exams, the happiness of finishing them should have filled my soul. I can’t take a break now, though. I’ll congratulate myself later. As I rush through a shower, I push aside the need to relax. I can’t sit down and truly feel at ease until I’ve seen this appointment through.
Thinking of my marriage as an appointment seemed cold, but I was limited in my choices. My mother has attempted to dominate my choices pertaining to my future, and this is the one way I could wrest some control back in my favor. It’s pretty simple, really. I can only obtain the money my father left me once I’m married, and since I’ve never seen eye to eye about the men my mother wants me to be aligned with, setting up a time and date to marry Owen at the courthouse is the wisest idea I’ve entertained yet.
Owen Talbot is the sort of man any woman would be lucky to get hitched to. “Mrs. Owen Talbot.” I test out the name again as I grab the hanger from my closet for my outfit. ”Mrs. Claire Talbot.”
I can’t help the grimace in my reflection as I pull my smart white Chanel dress on. It’s not a gown, but a skirt, one-third of the pantsuit-like ensemble that will work for today. I don’t need anything fancy since we’re doing this with a business approach, just at the courthouse like it’s a transaction of names and titles.
After I put my blouse on, then shrug my arms through the sleeves of the chic jacket, I try it on again.
“Mrs. Claire Talbot.” I wince again. It sounds as awful as I feel. I’m sure I’ll get used to it one day, but it’s not this one. I’m full of nerves, and the only way I can combat them is to think again that this is my only solution for getting my mom off my back.
This whole thing is my idea, so I’ve got no right second-guessing anything now.
“Mrs. Talbot.” That’s not any better, but I can’t afford to waste another minute in front of the mirror like this. I’ll be late to get to the courthouse, and when my phone rings, I sigh and answer on speakerphone so I can multitask to touch up my makeup as I speak to my cousin.
“Hi, Dalton.”
“Hey, Claire. How’d the last classes go?” His deep voice fills the room, reminding me how empty it is, and I wish he could be here. I always feel less alone when we chat. He is the only family I’ve ever embraced. My mom is impossible to tolerate. I have no siblings, nor does he. Dalton is the only connection I can ever count on, and it touches a small part of my heart to know he has me and my tests on his mind.
“Fine. They went perfectly fine.”
He chuckles. “Of course, you’d say that.”
“Because I studied my ass off to be able to say that.”
“No doubt about it, overachiever. I hope Aubrey and I can fly out and come to your graduation next week.”
I roll my eyes as I touch up my lipstick. I’d love to see him and meet his girlfriend, but not like that. Since I told Dalton about my plans to elope with Owen, my cousin has been against it. Even his best friend, Caleb, who’s like another brother I didn’t have, advised me to reconsider marrying Owen like this.
I dismissed their concerns since they’ve both met the loves of their lives in the last year. Dalton means well, but he sees everything through rose-tinted glasses right now, so an elopement might sound unromantic to him. He’s so fortunate to have the freedom to be romantic and do as he pleases, though. I do not.
“Dalton, this is France. They don’t have big, elaborate graduation ceremonies like they do in the States.”
