by Donna Alward
They weren’t hanging just right, and she realized with a start that the clothes were sliced, ruined. She moved out from beneath Jacob’s hand and rushed to the rack, her fingers touching the rent fabric. “Oh, my God,” she said, and then louder, “Oh, my God.” Every item on the rack had been cut, and cut in such a way that they couldn’t be repaired and certainly not before the show at ten.
“Stay here,” Jacob ordered, and for once she did exactly what she was told. Both because she was shocked by what she was seeing and because of last night’s email. Her dress had been slashed, and now all the items were cut to ribbons. Who would do something like this?
He scanned the room and then began to search. Once, she saw him stop and his head turn, and then suddenly he made a dash for the back of the room, where a door started to open before there was a loud thump.
“Drop the scissors,” Charlotte heard him say, in a tone that sent shivers down her spine. She would never want to be on the receiving end of that sort of instruction. It was even different from the day she’d dashed to the deli for bagels, disobeying his orders.
She raced to where he was with whomever he’d caught...and stopped in absolute shock when she came face-to-face with Amelie, her wrists held firmly by Jacob.
Her assistant. Her confidante. The person she’d told about the earlier emails, had set up her itinerary, had been so sympathetic and...her friend.
Amelie had sabotaged today’s show.
Charlotte wasn’t sure if she was more angry or hurt. Oh, she was furious at the sabotage, but she was also decimated by the betrayal. The Pembertons didn’t let many people in, just by the nature of their money and fame. Trust was a rare commodity. To have hers violated in this way made her sick to her stomach.
“Why?” she asked, her voice raw around the massive lump in her throat. “Why would you do this?”
Jacob took the scissors from Amelie’s grip and threw them on the floor. The venom that gleamed in Amelie’s eyes was startling. “You really don’t know. You sit in your office and make decisions and you don’t give a damn how they affect people.”
Confusion was added to the maelstrom of emotions flooding Charlotte. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Marie!” At Charlotte’s still-confused look, Amelie spat, “Marie Tremblay!”
Now Charlotte understood. She nodded at Jacob, who released Amelie’s wrists and took a step back, still staying between her and the discarded scissors. “Who is Marie to you? She was stealing from the company, Amelie.”
“Who is she? Mon Dieu, you never paid any attention to my personal life at all. Never asked if I was dating, about my family... Marie is my girlfriend. She is a brilliant designer, but she never got the recognition she deserved. Always passed over. How else was she supposed to move up as a designer?” Amelie was nearly shouting. “You ruined her. No one will touch her now!”
Charlotte took a deep breath and pushed her feelings aside. “Marie stole designs from Aurora. She made her own decisions knowing full well there would be consequences if she were caught. Why send me the threatening emails, then? I had nothing to do with firing her.”
“Because I had to see you every damn day, your smug face and not a care in the world, while our world was turned totally upside down.”
Not a care? Charlotte fully acknowledged that her stressors were very much what people would call “first-world problems,” but she had her own goals, dreams, insecurities, failures.
“And last night’s email? Ugh, that’s why you were surprised I went to the party, right? You figured I’d be too upset?”
“You went off the itinerary and went on that stupid shopping trip.” She swore in French, making Charlotte’s eyes widen. “That dress you wore? Do you know who designed it? Marie! And you had the nerve to wear it.” Each word sounded dipped in poison.
That Amelie had held such hatred while pretending to be a loyal employee and friend felt unreal. Charlotte looked her in the eyes and said, “You’re a very good actress, and maybe that can be a second career for you. Because you’re obviously fired, Amelie.”
“You could press charges, Charlotte.” Jacob had remained quiet, but now spoke up. “She harassed and threatened you, and vandalized Aurora property.”
“That’s something I’ll talk to Legal about.” She met Jacob’s eyes briefly, then looked at Amelie again. “Get out of here, check out of your hotel room and get the first flight home. And don’t even try going to the office when you get back. We’ll pack and send you your things.”
“Charlotte...” That from Jacob.
“No, I mean it, Jacob. I want her out of my sight.”
Amelie moved to leave, went by Charlotte and muttered, “Bitch.”
When she was gone, Charlotte stood for a few moments, unsure what to do. “What do you need?” Jacob asked, after bending over to pick up the scissors Amelie had used to destroy months of work.
She couldn’t deal with feelings right now; there was no time. “Amelie’s security passes have to be revoked. I don’t want her anywhere near anything to do with Aurora.”
“I can look after that.”
“The show is canceled. There’s no way we can pull it off now.” It cut her to the quick to say it. This show was to be her big chance to show everyone that she had what it took. She was supposed to step out into her own, really cement her value to the family business. Instead the whole thing was a failure.
But there wasn’t time to let that get to her. “I’ll cancel the show. Then everything here has to be boxed up and...” Her fingers trailed over a nearby gown. “And sent back. I want it all sent back home.”
“All right. We’ll work together to get it done.” He smiled reassuringly and reached out to squeeze her arm. “By the way, you were fierce back there. Totally calm and self-possessed.”
“It didn’t feel like it.”
“That’s twice you’ve held your ground, Charlotte. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he answered, squeezing her arm again before going to meet with security.
The show was canceled, and the fashion division team that had come from Paris came to pack up the room. It was unusually quiet after Charlotte had spoken to them as one, praising their hard work, asking them to keep mum on the events of the day and allow Charlotte, and Aurora, time to issue an official statement.
It was bound to be a PR nightmare. Charlotte knew she’d be dealing with press releases and interviews and sound bites all week, but this... This was different. No one canceled shows during Fashion Week. Everyone would be after the scandalous details.
She had a brief video call with the family to update them on what was happening, saying she’d have an initial press release to send to them and Legal by noon. All the while Jacob was in the background, helping where he could. Including sending someone for coffee and blintzes from the same deli she’d gone to that first morning. It was a sweet gesture, and a warm spot in a cold, horrible day. He, too, was an Aurora employee, but he did something that he knew would make her feel cared for, and it nearly made her cry, if she hadn’t had such a firm hold on her emotions.
They left the venue, doing their best to avoid the journalists who had already got wind of the story, and went back to the apartment, where Jacob made more coffee and put it at her elbow as she worked on a press release and sent it to Paris. Then she sat back and rubbed her eyes, exhausted. It had been five hours and it might as well have been fifteen. She felt as if she’d been run over by a truck.
This was supposed to be the day. A triumph. How had it come to this? All her plans and hopes crushed by one upset employee. How could Charlotte have been so blind?
Jacob came back into the dining room and put another mug by her elbow, but this time it was full of soup. “You need something to eat. You can’t survive on coffee and half a blintz all day.”
“You don’t h
ave to care for me so,” she said softly. “But for the first time since I got on that plane last week, I’m truly very glad you’re here.”
“You lost the person you trusted most, and that leaves you feeling alone,” he said, taking the seat beside her. His gray eyes delved into hers. “You totally sprang into action, but you’ve got to have some pretty heavy feelings about it all.”
“I do. I’m not sure I’m ready to feel them yet. I’m still in crisis management mode.”
“Fair.”
“I wish my father were here.” The words came out of nowhere, hitting her with a punch of emotion. “Dad always had a way of taking a bad situation and putting it in perspective. Or keeping things calm while we sorted out a plan.”
“You still miss him.”
“A lot. The family hasn’t been the same since he died. We’re faking it a lot. But today... I’m not sure I have the energy to pretend.”
“It’s okay to still be sad. It’s a testament to how much you loved him.”
He was right. “I’m glad you’re here, Jacob. Even if I don’t need protecting anymore.” She shook her head, still trying to wrap it around the fact that Amelie was behind it all. “Amelie wouldn’t dare try anything now. I think she knows I would press charges. She’ll go back to Paris with her tail between her legs.”
Charlotte lifted the mug and sipped some of the flavorful broth. “Oh, that’s perfect. Thank you.” Then she looked at Jacob and sighed. “I just can’t figure out what her end game was. What did she hope to achieve?”
“Ruining you, for a start. And once it was over, I bet she would have started looking for another job and quit. Her mission would have been accomplished, and she could have faded away without anyone suspecting. Consequence free.”
“It seems like a pointless waste of time,” Charlotte replied, sipping more soup. “The truth is, Marie deserved to be fired. It’s not like we enjoyed it. She was a brilliant designer. Anyway, while I’m waiting for feedback on the press release, what are we supposed to do about the party tonight?”
“You haven’t canceled it?”
She shook her head. “Amelie destroyed our clothing, but that’s all. I think it should go ahead. One ruined show doesn’t have to ruin everything.” She smiled up at him. “I’m a bit stubborn that way.”
“It’s one of the things I’ve come to like about you,” he admitted, his voice softer than she recalled it ever being before.
“My stubbornness?” she laughed.
“Yes.” His gaze clung to hers now. “It made me pretty angry the first day, but last night, after getting that email... You were so determined to be unafraid and go on with your plans. Not in a foolish way, but in an I-refuse-to-be-intimidated way. I admire that.”
“Well,” she said, a little breathless, “imagine that. Jacob Wolfe actually admires something about me.”
“More than one thing,” he murmured, and she suddenly realized how close they were sitting. Not once had he acted inappropriately toward her, or touched her in any way that wasn’t professional. The most he’d touched her all week was a hand at her back when they entered a room, and today when he’d gripped her arm. Now he wasn’t touching her at all but oh, it felt as if he was, he was that close. Close enough she could reach out and touch him if she wanted.
What she really wanted was to rest her head on his shoulder for a few minutes and let the weight of the day fall away. It was only the feeling that she’d seem ridiculous that held her back.
And then he did the most amazing thing. He lifted his hand and placed it along the side of her face, a tender, reassuring touch that made her close her eyes with gratitude. She tried to remember the last time she got a really great bona fide hug and couldn’t. If she had it was probably William or something, at Christmas.
As she leaned into his warm hand, she realized that she was incredibly touch-starved. A sigh escaped her lips as she let some of the stress of the day go.
“You’re exhausted.”
She opened her eyes and smiled a little. “Yes, but I still have enough energy to get through tonight. You’ll still come, won’t you?”
His gaze plumbed hers, asking silent questions.
“I want you to,” she said. “Not as my bodyguard. As my guest, as a friend. I know I’ve been a pain in your neck sometimes this week, but it hasn’t been all bad. And you’ve really come through when I needed it.”
“It hasn’t been all bad. High praise.” But he smiled, the tiniest hint of a dimple creasing his cheek.
“Your tux was sent out for cleaning and should be back in your closet. And I think you’ll like tonight’s dress.” She’d picked it out earlier in the week, eschewing the planned black-and-white number and instead going for something vibrant and very unmistakable. Janet had had it sent over yesterday, and it had been sitting in Charlotte’s closet ever since. If this party was going to make a statement about Aurora, she was going to make a personal statement, too.
He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “I come from a different world,” he replied. “One where it doesn’t really matter what dress you wear. You’re a beautiful woman, Charlotte. But that’s not because of what you wear or how you do your hair or anything like that.”
She figured that for a man like him, this was damned near poetic, and her heart softened even further. “So you’ll come with me?”
He sighed. “Charlotte, I’m the wrong kind of man for you. I don’t live in your world and to be honest, I don’t want to. I’m a regular guy who knows nothing about fashion. Money doesn’t change who I am. Deep down I’m still a soldier. A plain, ordinary grunt who would never fit in with your movie stars and models and moguls.”
“Did you consider those are the exact reasons I like you?” She put her hand over his, still on her cheek. “I know you’re not with me because of what you’ll gain from it. It’s refreshing.”
“I have no idea why you trust me.”
She looked in his eyes. “Because you have not given me a reason not to. Because I’m not twenty-two and naive anymore.” She turned her face and kissed his palm, a tiny press of her lips. “Before the party last night...what you said... I don’t think I’m the only one who’s had their heart broken. And I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m sorry you’ve been hurt so badly.”
His throat bobbed. “This is so far over the professional line,” he murmured.
“It’s over. There doesn’t have to be a professional line anymore. So come with me tonight. As my friend. Please.”
“I’ll come with you.”
She smiled, suddenly energized again, knowing she wouldn’t have to walk into that ballroom alone. “Thank you. Let’s get ready and show the world that the Pembertons don’t stay down for long. We might have canceled the show, but Aurora will go on long after today.”
He stood and held out his hand. She took it and rose from her chair, then gave it a small squeeze before letting go and heading to her room.
One thought kept running through her brain: Jacob wasn’t an Aurora employee anymore. Tonight, everything could change.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JACOB COULDN’T TAKE his eyes off her.
Gone was the trademark black-and-white couture, and in its place was a stunning gown in a vivid, hot pink, the perfect color for her creamy skin and dark hair. From the moment she’d stepped out of her room he’d been mesmerized, and that was saying something. Jacob Wolfe didn’t do mesmerized. Not anymore. And yet now, as he held a glass of Scotch in his hand and watched her talking half a room away, he was entranced.
His mission was accomplished. He could go home in three days as scheduled, Charlotte was safe, the mystery of the emails solved, everything back to normal. Just the way he wanted. He could take his trip to Tenerife. Exactly right. Then he’d return and continue running a company that protected VIPs and dignitaries and made him a truckload of money.
&nb
sp; Except then Charlotte turned a half turn and looked over her shoulder at him, and he was sunk. She smiled, and he wondered what the hell he was going to do.
Go home and forget about her, that’s what. He’d spoken the truth earlier. He wasn’t the man for her. Hell, even being here tonight he was a complete fish out of water. As a bodyguard he stayed in the background, on the perimeter of the high-powered worlds of his clients. He was...in his place. This, though, was different. He was faking his way through the evening, but it wasn’t fitting right. Kind of like having a sock wrinkle under your foot and not being able to adjust your shoe to fix it.
He finished off the Scotch—his liquid courage—as Charlotte wound her way through the crush of people to where he waited. He didn’t mind the tux; he was used to being in formal wear and the Hackett suit had been tailored specifically for him. The bow tie felt constrictive as he swallowed. All he could think of was that he wasn’t Charlotte’s bodyguard any longer. That barrier between them was gone, and there was no denying they’d been fighting an attraction to each other all week. How could he not be attracted to her? She was beautiful, smart and brave. Not once had she cowered when it came to the harassment leveled at her. If anything, she’d stepped up her game. God, how he admired that. No matter how far apart they were in social spheres, he was still attracted to her. Uncomfortably so.
She stood in front of him now, in that pink column of fabric that clung to her curves, enveloping her breasts in a strapless neckline that looked like a heart. The small train behind gave her such a Hollywood glamour look that he was sure she was something out of a dream.
“You’re bored,” she announced, her eyes twinkling.
“I swear I’m not.” He wasn’t, either. He was busy keeping his eyes on her. Not because he was paid to, but because he couldn’t help himself.
The ballroom glittered around them, all chandeliers and gilt and sparkly dresses and jewels and fashion royalty. It was a very different feel from the sometimes raucous party they’d gone to last night, but it fit Charlotte, fit the Aurora brand. Champagne flowed and wait staff circulated with delicacies for nibbling. Instead of the hip-hop artist from the Brooklyn warehouse, the music was provided by a classics crooner even Jacob recognized.