Chapters (57)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Part One
- Claudine
- Zara
- Henry
- Zara
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Part Two
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- Part Three
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Zara
- Claudine
- Zara
- Henry
- Part Four
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- Part Five
- Claudine
- Henry
- Henry
- Zara
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Zara
- THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING
I know that feeling. The temporary confusion of being famous but wanting to be regular. This is what it’s like to be a celebrity. Sure, there are some downsides. Paparazzi. Stalkers. Careless fashion bloggers. It’s all worth it. Any famous person who says they wish they weren’t is full of shit. Our lives are easy. Drivers, trainers, stylists, personal chefs. We don’t have to lift a finger. Walking into the Hotel Jerome was no different. Porters took my bags and the concierge whisked me into the barroom, where the bartender was already pouring my gimlet. I sat close to the fireplace beneath a distorted painting depicting two men in darkness, lit only by the campfire or lantern or whatever. A portrait of roughing it hanging in the middle of all that elegance. And I thought, they must have been here a million times. Claudine Longet and good ol’ Andy, popping over for a post-court drink. In the old days people were always doing things like that.
I sipped my gimlet and the warmth from the fire felt nice. Then I scooped Pip up and headed to my room. It was time to dress for the party. Getting ready is always my favorite part. I like to take my time. Crank the music, do my own makeup. I was going to look good, I knew I brought a killer outfit.
Claudine
The moment she stepped into the massive foyer, she knew the night would be unforgettable. They would sell this house to Zara. She was sure of it.
Unlike Henry, Claudine had decided she was looking forward to seeing Montague House again. It felt like a necessary pilgrimage. Everyone always credited him for the brilliant design, but it wouldn’t even be there if it wasn’t for her. It didn’t used to bother her, that no one knew she was the one who had made it happen. Secured the land, convinced the banks, pushed him to get over the nastiness of the acquisition, so he could use his talents to their full extent and create something unforgettable. None of it would have been possible without her.
The first time he took her up to see the view, all those years ago, she knew her future, their future, and the property would be linked. It was one of the only remaining lots that rested in the high planes on a plateau jutting out from the mountain, devastating views of the Rockies in all directions. Yes, what had happened was unfortunate, but the history of the West was full of more brutal dealings than this. The point was they left the world more beautiful than they found it by building the crown jewel of Aspen.