Page 160 of The Sweetest Return

“No necklace.”

“No necklace.”

“Laila has worn every major house. We don't out-shout Cartier or Bulgari. We make one Saint Aurelia piece feel inevitable.”

Cleo's expression sharpened with interest. “That I can pitch.”

“Invite,” I corrected.

She tilted her head.

“This house has too much history to chase anybody, even Laila Hart. We’re honored, but careful. Interested, never thirsty. Marisol gets access because she understands image. Laila gets the piece because the moment makes sense.”

Cleo nodded slowly.

Nina typed.

“Saint Aurelia doesn't chase placement,” I continued. “We protect the house, the client, and the story.”

“That sounds like a quote,” Nina murmured.

“Don't make me sound like a plaque.”

Cleo laughed. “Too late.”

The meeting moved from there. Wardrobe. Lighting. Story. Whether Laila’s team wanted power, softness, reinvention, or all three.

By the end, the bracelet would lead. Pear drops only if wardrobe supported them. Cleo would make Marisol feel chosen without making Saint Aurelia sound overeager. Nina would build the styling language. Operations had time for insurance, shipping, and handoff protocols before anybody had reason to panic.

Cleo stood.

“I’m going downstairs before PR starts calling this once-in-a-lifetime and making me itch.”

“It is major,” Nina said.

“Major opportunities still need paperwork.”

“Take Nina with you,” I said.

Nina looked up. “Me?”

“Yes. This is how you learn the difference between preparation and panic.”

Cleo grinned. “Come on, baby brand genius.”

Nina followed her out looking excited enough to remind me of every room I had once entered while trying not to show how badly I wanted somebody to trust me.

The door closed.

My office became quiet again.

The founder still watched me from her frame. Campaign boards covered the wall. Diamonds caught light at my wrist.

And Dre’s name still waited on my phone.

The competence I had wrapped around myself all morning loosened.

I missed him.