The Grand Palais glittered with glass, steel, and camera equipment. Editors, buyers, celebrities, and investors filled the rows on either side of the catwalk. Alexander and I sat in the front row directly opposite the photographers' pit. Nearly a hundred lenses faced the end of the runway, where every finale model had to stop.
The show began.
The models came out one by one in the first collection produced without me. The clothes were competently made, but the cuts repeated old Cross silhouettes and the surface work borrowed from my Monaco Resort line. Buyers took notes without leaning forward. The applause after each look remained brief and polite.
I found Julian across the runway. He sat with his jaw tight and one hand pressed flat on his knee while his publicist whispered beside him.
