BABY DADDY (35 page)

“When you’re ready, you know where to find me. I will be there.”

TWENTY-THREE

_____________________________________________________________

25 CONTROVERSIAL QUOTES FROM THE STYLE EMPRESS

On having children:

At one point, I gotta think about that.

But right now, I can’t fit one in my traveling bag.

Motherhood is the most noble profession.

That’s probably the only endeavor more stellar than my career,

in my book at least. So yeah, one day soon.

Stella Rhodes

____________________________________________________

“YOUR COLLECTION IS
MAGNIFIQUE, MA CHERIE
.”

I kiss Juancho’s cheeks. “Glad you could come tonight even if your show's happening the next day.”

“Of course! Have I ever missed any of your shows?”

I hug my beloved old mentor. “I miss being with you. Can you come live with me in New York for a month?”

“You know I can’t leave Calvin here.”

“Well, he can come live with us, too. My apartment has four huge bedrooms.”

“He can’t. He’s full time at the university now.”

Calvin is Juancho’s long time partner, a professor at The Sorbonne.

I sigh and slump my shoulders.

“So, has he answered yet?”

“Yes. Once. After my 500th message, he answered.”

“What did he say?”

“He said,
you’re not ready
.”

“Hmm, so what are you going to do?”

“I wanna fly to the island but I’m kind of banned there.”

“Banned?”

“He doesn’t wanna see me. I can’t book any flight. My name’s probably on the
persona non grata
list.”

“Tsk, tsk. That’s bad.”

“I’m dying, Juancho.”

“Quit the fucking drama, and don’t you fucking die on me or I’ll kill you myself, but yes, I can tell how shitty you feel.” He looks at me in disapproval. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me finally fit in one of your badasstic coutures.”

“I might come live with you if you continue this, Elle,” he says chidingly, pointing the tip of his fan at me. He loves fans and his favorite is the one I gave him three years ago.

“Then I’ll continue until I develop Bulimia.”

“You’re so fucking morbid. Go work on your models.”

“I’ll see you at the party?”

“I won’t miss that,
ma cherie
.”

I kiss his cheek and walk into the mayhem that is my dressing room here in Paris tonight.

I join Rowann who’s busy fitting Giselle into one of my creations.

I air kiss the supermodel.

“Can I wear this in the coming Met gala, Stella?”

“Of course, my dear. It’s perfect on you.”

She smiles. “I look perfect in anything you design.”

“Thank you.” I circle her and find everything in place. “Okay, you’re all set, G.”

I leave them to check on the other models being assisted by my design team. I have fewer models in this show as I’m only showcasing a dozen original, one of a kind gowns.

Unlike my show in New York, I feel no nerves here.

This is the Paris Haute Couture Week and I came with a full arsenal of my wildest creations, so far. I went full on Kandinsky and some. Raiden would be so proud.

After Cathy’s glowing review of my NY collection, orders came pouring in like a hailstorm. My clothes have always been hot in the market but business has never been that good in years. But business wasn’t my priority. My priority was Raiden. I skipped the Paris spring/summer show hoping I’d see him again.

But I didn’t see him. He wouldn’t see me. But I’m holding him to his last words before he left.

When you’re ready, you know where to find me. I will be there.

If there’s anything that’s certain in my heart right now, it’s the truth that my Raiden is a man of honor and a man of his word. I just hope I’ll see him again soon. I miss him everyday. Every hour. I miss him with my every breath.

Months have passed. I poured myself into my designs. I’ve sent him messages every day. But he never answered. For all his patience and kindness, this is a lesson that I’ve learned the hard way and must never forget in the future— when Raiden reaches his limit, you will suffer to get him back.

I’m suffering, alright. The lump in my throat never goes away. My chest is filled with broken glass and it hurts to breathe.

I remember everything, the littlest things about him, the things he did to make me happy.

My eyes won’t dry up and I shed a tear for him everyday. I don’t want my eyes to dry up. He deserves every drop of my tears and more.

He deserves so much more from me.

I wait everyday for the chance to give my all to him.

December came and I cried when I finally got another message from him.

“Merry Christmas. Reconnect with the past and let go.”

I knew what he meant.

For the first time in two decades, I went to see my father again. Though he never made contact with me over the years, I wanted to thank him. Simply for my life.

He was misty-eyed when he saw me. It was awkward at first, but we got to be private. My father was never a communicative man, but that night, he was expressive. He had something to tell me and I was so glad I went to see him. I needed that conversation. It was a major turning point in my life.

“Stella…I was not a good father to you.”

The moment he started like that, my tears fell. There was no small talk. He went straight to it. Maybe he’s been struggling with it all these years, as I was.

“I was blinded by so much hurt…about what happened between me and your mother…but none of it was your fault. I made you suffer with me. I’m so sorry, sweetie."

“Dad…”

“When you left for Paris…I wanted to contact you, but I was so ashamed of myself. You were already with your mother and I didn’t want to cause any more discord between our respective families…but I’ve always thought of you. I wish I could turn back time.”

“I’m here now, Dad. It’s never too late to start again.”

He nods, his tears falling. “You have no idea how proud I am of you, Stella. You’ve done so much for yourself. You turned out so well despite…despite not having a mother for so many years and a father who was there but never was. I was the only one you got and I wasn’t there for you. I was never there for you.”

I couldn’t control my sobs. It only really dawned on me then that my trust issues stemmed from my father’s rejection. This was the first man who put me down, the one man who I thought would champion me, the person who I expected to protect me like a knight. My own father. But he failed me.

“Forgive me, sweetheart. God, forgive me.”

I hugged him tight and cried in his arms, letting go of years of feeling abandoned, of feeling unwanted.

That night, I truly left the past where it belonged. In return, I was gifted with a present. A new beginning. A new family.

It was a quiet but heartfelt reunion.

My stepmother invited me to come back next Christmas. My half-sisters who just lived nearby with their husbands came over to say hi. I met their little children, too.

I was a new person when I got back in New York.

Aiden…I saw him again at a gala two weeks ago. I knew then that the ghosts of him were gone from my heart. I was standing there, looking at him and marveling at the fact that I felt nothing for him. My heart didn’t howl with rage, didn’t clench with bitterness and didn’t seethe with vindictiveness. I stared at him across the room, willed him to look at me, daring him to show me the same arrogance and disrespect he did the last time we met, but he couldn’t look me straight in the eye.

It was him who left the gala unnoticed. He made the gossip headlines with a split lip and a broken nose after Raiden decked him that night at my show. His resurging career is again on the downslide after Regina dropped him cold that same night. I have forgiven him, if only to clear all the cobwebs of the past for my new man, the true love of my life. God will perhaps forgive me if I cannot feel sympathy for Aiden. Maybe in time, I will forget what he did. As it is, after being with Raiden, Aiden is just a very distant, insignificant memory. It’s just funny that their names sound the same.

I spent a few days with my mother’s family here in Paris last week. Sophie’s wedding is in two months and I’m designing her gown. I’m so happy for her.

As for me and Raiden, we’re still the hottest couple in both the dailies and the rags, what with his grand declaration of love in front of dozens of paparazzi that completely stole the show from me. Videos of him are all over the internet. I still cannot get over what he did. He did tell the world in the most eloquent way possible, how much he loves me. I’ve downloaded the video in my cellphone and I watch it every time I become afraid he won’t ever come back to me.

“My name is Raiden Azzaro, Stella Rhodes’ boyfriend. I’m 25 years old, a businessman and artist and I live in a beautiful island in Asia. I know you may find my intentions suspicious but I assure you, I’m batshit crazy in love with her as you can see from my actions now. I want to marry her. Don’t worry about prenup. I’m not drawing any for her to sign. She can have half of what’s in my bank account and it’s a lot bigger than what she has in hers. All of it if she wants to. I don’t believe in prenup. My love for her goes beyond all the material riches in this world. Now that we have that shit out of the way, I beg you, people of New York, to give us a chance, to wish our love luck, to pray for us to end up together. Because I only have one heart and if Ella won’t have it, it will wilt and die. What a shame then, huh, because I have a good one. I love you, people of New York!”

The people of New York are all waiting for our happy ending.

If only my prince will come back to me.

“Stella!” Rowann calls me.

Giselle is ready to walk.

After that, it’s my turn.

“You look like you’ve consumed a bottle of that happy pill,” I remark at Rowann’s grin that hasn’t left his face all night.

Rowann laughs and Misha joins.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing! Everything’s so fab, Stella! Let’s retouch your make up. You’re a knock out in this one. This is going to be Juancho’s finale, not yours. You’re walking in his gown!”

I smile. “I don’t mind.”

Misha retouches my make-up.

“Okay G, ready?” Rowann asks Giselle.

The supermodel puts her hands on her hips. “Raring to go!”

“Alright…and go!”

Giselle struts away into the runway.

I touch my lock pendant, uttering a silent prayer.

I walk the runway with my models
amid a standing ovation.

From the center, I can feel the magnificence of Guy’s set.

We got the Louvre Cour Carree for our venue. I envisioned Akiko’s aviary filled with the most exotic flowers. Guy gave me one heck of a giant tropical paradise in Paris!

I raise my hand to wave at the audience. All the lights are on now and I can see the place is packed.

My heart is thumping like mad. Okay, I’m proud of myself, sure, but I feel amped in a strange way.

My eyes scan the crowd, looking for my friends in the business.

My eyes stop at my right, just a few meters away.

Is that…?

I blink rapidly.

My eyes are not playing tricks on me.

That’s Akiko right there!

And beside her is Princess Antoinette!

What the hell…?! Are they together?

Obviously. They’re standing next to each other.

I think I’m gonna have a heart attack.

Then I see him.

He just appears from the crowd and steps forward.

I feel faint.

I grasp my pendant.

I expect him to disappear any moment.

But he does not.

He’s still there.

He’s real!

I hike the flowing layers of my gown up and dash down the runway steps, nearly tripping in my heels.

I launch myself at him, not thinking at all.

Just feeling.

He catches me.

And carries me.

As he always does.

He puts me back on my feet
when we’re away from the crowd.

“What the…what have you done to yourself, woman?!”

I swallow hard. He’s looking at me like he’s pissed.

He reaches me and scrutinizes me up close. I’m wearing Juancho’s sexiest number from his latest collection and it reveals my brand new figure. 38-27-42. That’s the best measurements I can possibly achieve given my bone structure. I know I look better in a bikini now too, so I’m quite confident he would be wowed.