Fashion Jungle

by Kathy Ireland

  Just. Them.

  “This broccoli is amazing.” She pointed at her plate. “Did you get any?”

  “Nope.” He swiped a piece from her plate and chewed.

  Stunned, she wondered if he was always this comfortable in his own skin, unapologetically… him.

  “What?”

  She shook her head and smiled down at her food. “Nothing, I just like you.”

  “Should I change my Facebook status yet or…?”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

  He cursed just as the oven dinged.

  She watched him open the oven, move around the kitchen, and it was eerily… perfect. Today? Lying in bed during that photo shoot with Ronan? That was what she had seen and wanted when she was a teen; that was what her expectations had been.

  But she suddenly realized that this—talking and being open and hovering over takeout—felt more normal than anything.

  Normal and exciting, all at once.

  A grin spread across her face. Maybe she was getting a second chance. Another opportunity to do the right thing.

  Which just made her that much more resolute.

  She needed to find her girl.

  She needed to close a chapter in her life so another could finally, after sixteen years, open again.

  New York Fashion Week Countdown - 7 Days

  Brittany woke up the next morning with two things on her mind: her daughter, and her date with Oliver.

  With a deep breath, she dialed Dane’s number and waited for him to answer.

  Three rings in and his deep voice came over the receiver. “This is Dane.”

  “Hey.” She licked her dry lips. “Are you alone?”

  He sounded as if he were walking, and then a door closed. “I am now.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, this is hard, so I’m just going to say it and get it off my chest.” Another deep breath. She could do it, she could say it out loud. Couldn’t she? “Do you… do you have any records of where you sent my daughter? Or who adopted her? I just… I don’t even need to meet her, just seeing a picture of her with her family, knowing that she’s thriving would be enough. I—”

  “Brittany.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Yeah?”

  “I’ll be at your apartment in five minutes.”

  The phone line went dead. Brittany stared at it then dropped the cell onto her bed and quickly got dressed and made herself look presentable. Grace was only too happy to let her take a day off, especially since she remembered how good-looking Oliver had been. And Roger? Well, he seemed ready to break out into song and dance when she said they were going to stop by that night for a cooking lesson and a date.

  She only hoped that the guy didn’t go overboard since he was known for doing that. It would also be a great opportunity for Roger and her to talk about Chrissy and the whole Marnie situation.

  She knew there was a very serious no-poaching rule when it came to the models and agents, but Marnie was just the worst. Surely, there was a way for Chrissy to get out of her contract. Or somehow Roger could snatch her up.

  The only problem would be if Chrissy were booking a lot of shoots, Marnie would want that money, and she’d want to, yet again, have the notoriety of discovering the next best thing.

  Brittany slammed a throw pillow onto the bed just as a knock sounded at the door. It took too long for her legs to carry her down the hall, for her hands to turn the doorknob. Her heart hammered against her chest as she jerked the door open.

  Dane was standing there in black Nike joggers.

  She did an actual double-take and frowned. “Are you wearing sneakers?”

  “I was headed to the gym.” His mouth curved into a smile. “I know, it’s like seeing an animal outside the zoo.”

  “Or your first-grade teacher at the bar taking tequila shots,” she added, crossing her arms.

  “Hilarious.” His white T-shirt looked so foreign on his body that she was having trouble focusing. In theory, it made sense that he had a life outside of controlling every possible situation in his universe, but he looked so relaxed.

  He placed the large cardboard box he held on the table.

  “So, how are things with Zoe?” she asked, trying to break the ice again.

  He stilled and then turned his intense gaze to her. “We’re not here in this moment to discuss Zoe.”

  “No.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m afraid to ask what’s in the box.”

  His face softened. “Don’t be, Britt. And you don’t even have to look if you don’t want. Tell you what, I’ll leave that box full of things on this table for one full day. When you get back tonight, decide what you want to do. Open or keep it closed.”

  “That easy, huh?” she teased, wiping away a stray tear.

  Dane leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. “Facing our truth is never easy, but you don’t grow when you stand still, Britt,” He pushed off the wall and settled a hand on her shoulder. “You sink.”

  “When did you get so wise?” She laid her hand over his and squeezed.

  “I’ve always been the wise one. It’s you girls who drive a man to day drink. I can’t make this decision for you, but I can give you the opportunity to choose. To see her life for what it is. Beautiful. To close a chapter that has maybe stayed open for too long, allowing that wound to fester over and over again. I don’t know, Britt, I think that too often we try to keep things black and white and completely forget about the gray areas.”

  “You…” She let go of his hand. “You exist in that gray area.”

  “Oh, I have a flat-screen TV and hot tub in that gray area.” He winked. “No pressure either way. And have fun with Oliver today.”

  She froze. “How did you know?”

  He just grinned and shrugged. “I know everything.”

  “I see Zoe hasn’t had a chance to rein in that arrogance yet.”

  He chuckled. “Probably because she secretly likes it.”

  He sauntered to the front door and looked over his shoulder at her, then at the box and back to her. “If you do decide to open it, I know you’ll have questions. I won’t have all the answers because, sometimes, life just happens, and even when we try to control every minute detail, the world still spins however it wants.”

  With that cryptic comment, he shut the door behind him.

  Brittany turned to face the box. It seemed so plain, so nonthreatening, and yet she knew that answers were inside. In that cardboard container, she would find pictures of her girl’s face. Inside, she would discover memories she hadn’t been a part of. A life that, now, she would have sacrificed anything to share.

  With shaky movements, she walked up to the counter and held the box lid between her hands.

  She had all day to decide.

  Why was it suddenly so difficult?

  She dropped her clammy hands to her sides and walked away from the box. A knock sounded at the door.

  Tonight, she promised herself.

  Tonight.

  She opened the door to see a handsome looking Oliver dressed in skinny jeans, combat boots, and a V-neck vintage tee that looked incredible on him.

  “You know…” She eyed him up and down. “There’s just something about the way a guy leans against a doorframe.”

  “They teach it to us in first grade. It’s the only way to make friends. Learn the doorframe move, and you’re in. Fall on your face, and well… it’s the lunch table facing the bathrooms where you can time people’s flushes.”

  Brittany laughed. “Wow, both descriptive and a bit personal. I’m guessing you didn’t master it until later on in life.”

  He grinned down at her. “Late bloomer.”

  “I see.”

  They stared at each other for a few more seconds, smiles wide before she cleared her throat and closed the door.

  Body heat radiated off Oliver and seemed to reach out to her. It didn’t help that he smelled warm and spicy. His eyes lit up when she beamed at
him and then grabbed his hand.

  His palm pressed against hers.

  And he held tight.

  As if he were afraid that she would slip away if he loosened his grip. Brittany decided she liked it.

  And when they walked out into the sun, she took a deep breath and grinned down at her red Pierre Hardy boots. She’d gone for more of a weekend look with her blue-and-white-striped Ralph Lauren peasant dress and low ponytail. Something about it felt playful. Or maybe it was just Oliver and the fact that she wasn’t working on a Saturday when she typically would. She walked toward his car parked on the street, but he twirled her around and kissed her cheek, managing to wrap his arm around her as they walked.

  “No driving this morning.”

  “I like it.” She patted his chest. “Plus, it’s beautiful out.”

  “I call it pre-autumn in New York, nothing like it.” He grinned down at her. “I figured since you planned the evening, I could plan the late morning and afternoon.”

  “Does your plan involve coffee?”

  He gave her a serious look. “All plans should involve coffee. I’m not a monster.”

  “Good.” She liked the way he felt next to her, the easy steps they fell into like they were already in sync.

  “Favorite color?” he quizzed.

  “Blue,” she answered quickly. “Yours?”

  He stared down into her eyes and gave his head a shake. “I think you just converted me.”

  She had blue eyes.

  Was he talking about her?

  “Favorite food?” he asked next.

  “What is this? Twenty questions?”

  “Oh, no. It’s going to be about a hundred, but don’t worry, you get a prize in the end.”

  “What’s my prize?”

  “A really good kiss, the best of your life.”

  “You know you make a lot of big promises,” she pointed out, loving the teasing side of him, the easiness of it. She’d never had that with Ronan, and she hated that she was comparing, but he was all she had to compare to!

  “And I fully intend to follow through.” He kissed her forehead as they continued to walk. “So? Your favorite food?”

  She licked her lips and grinned up at him. “Garlic bread.”

  “Is it wrong that I want to give you your prize after two questions?”

  “God forbid you call me a cheater.” She elbowed him.

  “Ouch. Okay, fine.” He laughed. “Favorite book?”

  She almost stumbled when the answer came to her head. “Um… the Bible.”

  He gave her a curious look. “I had you for more of a Darcy sort of girl. Okay, so the Bible. Can I ask why?”

  “When I started modeling, I was in over my head. It was the only thing that sustained me, that made me feel peace, safety.” Brittany shrugged. “Plus, it reminded me of home, of my faith, of family. It kept me grounded and focused—not that I’m perfect, not by a long shot.”

  “Well, that was a pretty perfect answer. My Grandpa was a pastor, I think he would have called that a Sunday School answer, but I’ll give it to you because I can hear the conviction in your voice, and I like that you chose the Bible. What I like even more is that you were honest—and you meant it.”

  Her lips parted in shock as they rounded the corner and he led her into a tiny bakery that smelled so delicious, her mouth started watering. “What is this place?”

  “Heaven,” he said simply. “Remember? Carbo-loading.” He pointed to a flaky croissant, and Brittany’s stomach immediately growled. “We’ll take two of those and two of those.” He pointed to a chocolate éclair. “And five maple bars.”

  Brittany made a choking noise. “I hope you don’t expect me to eat all of that!”

  “Oh, I don’t share their baked goods. You have to make your own order. I keep a very vigorous workout routine so I can come here and splurge.”

  The guy behind the register laughed. “It’s true, he’s here every Saturday.”

  Brittany’s stomach warmed.

  Her heart thudded wildly against her chest.

  He hadn’t just taken her to a bakery.

  He was showing her his life.

  His spots.

  His routine.

  The barricade around her heart started to shake with the need to fall, to expose her entire self to him and see if he’d accept her just as she was.

  Flaws and all.

  “Your order?” the high school kid asked.

  “Um, right. A maple bar and… how about a croissant?” She looked to her right. Oliver was staring at her mouth. “What? Do I have something here?”

  “No.” He held out his credit card to the kid without looking away. “It’s just, I’ve never heard anyone say croissant so sexily. I’m admittedly jealous. You don’t say my name like that.”

  “I’ll practice,” she joked.

  “Wow, you’re just earning all the points today, aren’t you? Must want that prize.”

  She found herself nodding and then wrapping an arm around him. “Maybe because I know the prize doesn’t come with conditions. You aren’t that sort of guy.”

  “No.” He sobered. “I’m not. And for the record, I meant it when I said a kiss. Nothing beyond that. Because, honestly, I don’t think I would be able to handle anything more without losing my head and begging you for it, and that just puts you in a bad position where you have to reject me and… bam, friendship over.”

  Brittany bit down on her lower lip. “Baby steps, Oliver.”

  “Baby steps,” he agreed with a wink and handed over her pastries.

  As far as dates went, this one was topping her list. They went from bakery to bakery. Apparently, Oliver liked to eat, and when they were done doing that, they went to the MET.

  Something she hadn’t done in years; it seemed she was always too busy doing other things.

  They had two hours before they had to meet Roger and Grace for the cooking class and dinner.

  “So.” Oliver twirled her with his hand and smiled down at her. “We’ve established almost all of your favorites, including your favorite person.” He pointed at himself.

  “But,”—Brittany held up her finger—“only because—”

  “Chocolate bananas. Which I agreed was completely fair this early on in our frelationship.”

  “Frelationship?” She laughed so hard her throat started to hurt. “You gonna explain that one?”

  “That,” he said and grinned, “is self-explanatory. Friendship plus relationship equals frelationship.”

  “And, somehow, I don’t think that would pass during a Scrabble match.”

  “I could get away with it. I’m extremely charming.”

  “Mmm.” They swung their arms as they walked through the park. “I’ve seen my fair share of charm. How do I know it’s not an act?”

  “You’ve been with me all day. Either I’m a really good actor on top of being one of the best surgeons in the state, or…”

  She smiled, narrowing her eyes. “Or you were born that way?”

  “Just like Gaga, but with less makeup and costumes.”

  “I think my favorite Gaga costume was the one with the bacon, you remember?”

  Oliver stopped walking. “Brittany, there is absolutely nothing wrong with honoring bacon by wearing it. In fact, you should tell your friend Zoe to add that to her lineup for her show.”

  Brittany beamed. She’d explained the line to Oliver, and he’d genuinely looked excited then asked if he could go. She was only too happy to not only show off her friend’s hard work but also show off Oliver.

  Everything just clicked between them.

  “I’ll let her know.” She sighed happily. “So, we have some time. What did you want to do? We could always go freshen up if you want.”

  He pulled her into his arms and then held up his finger. “I think we need to go over that hill.”

  “Okay?”

  He gripped her hand and led her over the hill.

  A small park was on t
he other side.

  It had swings, a slide, and a merry-go-round.

  “We clearly need to swing. It’s abandoned.”

  “And sad,” she added for dramatic effect.

  “It would be wrong to walk by.” He took her hand again as they made their way to the swings first.

  She sat, and he just naturally moved behind her and started to push. “I used to be so terrified of the swings when I was little.”

  “Really?” she asked as he pushed her higher. “Why?”

  “First off, they’re really high, and when you’re a controlling little kid, you don’t like the idea of weightlessness. I was absolutely petrified that I’d fly out into space like ET.”

  “Logical.” She laughed. “But I can understand why you’d feel that way.”

  “Exactly. You’re feeling it now… It’s terrifying letting someone else push you. What if they push too hard, not hard enough? What if they stop pushing altogether? And what if they just… let go? You could drop, get hurt, or you could even be stuck…”

  She frowned as he stopped pushing and then stopped the swing and pulled it close so he was facing her.

  “Life’s kind of like that, isn’t it? Depending on other people, letting go, allowing yourself to just… fly. It can be scary. Trusting people always is, but I don’t want you to think I’m the sort of guy to shove you into a swing and push you as high as you can, only to come crashing back down to Earth. That’s not what this day’s about, that’s not what I’m about.”

  Her throat felt heavy with tears. “Why me? There’re a million women out there who would fight me just to go on a swing with you.”

  “Well, Roger did vouch for you,” he teased. And then sobered. “It’s your eyes, the way you carry yourself, the way you look at the world when you don’t think anyone else is looking.”

  “Oh? And how do I look at the world?”

  He sighed. “Like you used to look forward to living in it until you were forced to survive instead.”

  Tears threatened; they stung the back of her throat and her eyes. “I was jaded at a young age. I tried to keep the sunlight, but you know the thing about the sun? It goes down… darkness always descends. I do love the world and everything in it, but some days, when my past comes back to haunt me, all I can do is turn to survival mode and pray to God that it passes.”