‘My favourite designer is the one going on maternity leave. I like Clara, we’ve met a few times and I enjoy her. I think she likes me, and we could work well together. She’s my first choice.’ Thadie bit her bottom lip, frowning. ‘But I don’t think two weeks is feasible and I might have to give her a miss.’
‘You need to try, Thadie, you’ll regret it if you don’t,’ Angus told her.
She swallowed down a spurt of annoyance. Words like that were easy to say but when they got back to Johannesburg, she would resume her normal routine. It would be impossible to look after the boys and whip up a design portfolio. And it would take time to get them into a school.
By the time she got the kids into bed, she was exhausted, and her energy levels were depleted. She’d probably fall asleep at her desk. If she got as far as her desk.
Why hadn’t she given this idea more thought before reaching out to the designers? She should’ve waited until she got the boys into a nursery school and planned this properly. Instead of running headlong into the situation, not thinking it all the way through—just as she’d done with Clyde—she should’ve weighed up the pros and cons and made a more sensible decision.
But she’d remembered the approval in Angus’s eyes, how impressed he’d been at her reaching out and chasing her dream and, basking in his approval—it had been a long time sinceshe recalled someone being proud of her—she’d fired off those emails.
Such a reckless move...
Angus’s arm landed on her shoulder, and his big hand cupped her arm and pulled her to his side. ‘Relax, Thads, it’ll be fine.’
She tried to smile, annoyed by his breezy attitude. He was so confident and had no idea how scary it was to attempt something new, putting herself out there, not sure if she could do what she’d breezily promised.
She wasn’t a kid any more, a twenty-six-year-old with no responsibilities, someone who’d taken her time to get her degree. She was a Le Roux, had a dedicated social media following—a lot of them who were young mums who listened to what she said and watched what she did—and a press pack who’d dogged her every step because she was, because of her last name and ridiculously, South African royalty.
Thadie slapped her hand over her mouth, terror skittering through her. She stopped abruptly, her toes digging into the sand. ‘What have I done, Angus?’
His hands skated up and down her arms. ‘You’re chasing your dreams, Thadie. There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘You don’t understand,’ she gabbled, panic closing her throat as another thought hit her. ‘If the press hears about this, I will be excoriated.’
‘Why?’ he asked, looking genuinely confused. ‘You’re going in a different direction. People do it all the time.’
‘But if my designs aren’t a success, then they’ll say that I’m playing at fashion, foisting a sub-standard product on the public and thinking I can sell it because I am a Le Roux. If my designs are a success, then they’ll say that it’s only because I am trading on my name. That’s if I get as far as launching a line. If they hear about me reaching out to designers and I don’t follow through,or if none of the designers wants to work with me, then that’s another story that’ll dominate the headlines!’
Angus told her to take a breath and when she did, he looked down at her, shaking his head. ‘Don’t you think you are overreacting a touch?’
Overreacting? Seriously? She started to blast him, then remembered that he didn’t live in this country and that he’d only seen the video of her press conference because she was his client. Was she still his client? Did she still need a bodyguard? She didn’t know whether her and Clyde’s bust-up was still dominating the headlines.
But that was, fractionally, off the point.
Angus had no idea that, as Theo and Liyana’s daughter, she was often featured in society columns, and her engagement to Clyde, an ex-rugby player who was a national hero for being part of the World Cup winning squad, had set off a feeding frenzy. Her wedding woes had kept everyone entertained, there had been speculation about the health of their relationship and when she’d fired Alta as one of her bridesmaids that story had entertained the public for weeks.
Her non-wedding and viral video had been, as far as the press was concerned, an abundance of riches.
Angus, a Scot and someone who didn’t overly concern himself with the shenanigans of A-List South African society, had no idea how newsworthy she was.
‘I am not overreacting,’ she said, through gritted teeth.
Angus linked the fingers of one hand with hers. His eyes, the same colour as the sun-speckled ocean behind him, connected with hers and she couldn’t help herself, she tumbled into all that blue. ‘I get that you are scared. Trying something new is always frightening. But this is your time, you need to grab this opportunity and do something for yourself.’
He didn’t understand—it wasn’t that easy. ‘I have boys to raise. They take up a lot of time. I haven’t sketched for four years. I have no idea if I even remember my training. I have wedding gifts to return—’
‘You’ve given me lots of reasons why it won’t work,’ Angus agreed. ‘Now give me a few reasons why it will work. Why doing this will be one of the best decisions you’ll ever make.’
She had to think, and she couldn’t do that when he was so close. Didn’t he know that he short-circuited her brain? She walked away from him and scuffed the sand with her bare foot, scowling at the second, smaller speedboat the staff were loading. She looked at the twins, who were by the rock pool, looking into the shallow depths.
Thadie folded her arms across her chest, her heart thumping.
‘Well?’ Angus asked from behind her.
She wrinkled her nose, not happy that he wouldn’t let this go. ‘I was good,’ she reluctantly admitted. ‘I was told I had talent.’
‘Talent doesn’t just disappear so, with a little practice, I’m sure it will all come straight back to you,’ he told her. Thadie felt her bands of tension loosening, a little confidence returning.