by Kari August
She frowned. “You mean Dougie’s Kitchen Korner?”
Dickie spoke up. “We mean Liiizette’s Style House.”
Lindsey looked her up and down. “With such a pretty face, you would represent the petite plus sizes to perfection.”
Dickie studied Connie more closely. It was true. She was chubby, but cute. Lindsey was a genius. “Our line extends from the very small to grandiose.” He motioned with his hands to indicate a wide expanse.
Lindsey politely chuckled and stepped in front of Dickie. “How clever. What Dickie means is size extra petite to five-X.”
Connie reached to straighten her hair. “I’ve never modeled before, but I could sure use the extra money.”
Dickie smiled. “Excellent.”
It took considerably longer, however, to convince Connie to allow Cody to continue learning the use of weapons, but Dickie finally prevailed.
After Connie left and Cody went over to their commercial kitchen to pack cookie boxes, Lindsey asked Dickie, “Who else is going to model for us? If we get the contract, I need time to tailor the attire just for them.”
“I’ve got that covered. I’ve already hired a friend of mine to model. She’s flying in after Ned and I meet with TBN to finalize the deal.”
Lindsey pleated her brows. “Is she tall, thin, and beautiful?”
Dickie nodded. “Definitely. And sweet. Very sweet.”
“I hate her already.” Lindsey smiled.
Just then a sleepy-appearing Ned appeared in his bedroom doorway in boxers and a T-shirt. He yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes. “Dickie, I thought I heard voices. What’s going on?” He looked across the room and smiled warmly. “Oh, hi, Lindsey. How are you?” Remembering himself, he took a step back to partially cover himself behind his door.
Lindsey smiled back at Ned just as affectionately. “Good morning, Ned. Sleep well?”
Ned continued grinning as if he were completely besotted. “Never better.”
Lord, Dickie thought, watching these two could get old really quickly. He decided to interrupt the lovebirds. “Ned, we’ve hired another model for our clothing line: Cody’s mother.”
“Connie? But isn’t she kind of short . . . ?” Ned trailed off.
“That’s the point. We want to appeal to women of all shapes and sizes. Isn’t that correct, Lindsey? Of course, it also helped placate an irate Connie.”
“Yeah, she looked as if she was going to kill you for a while there, so I thought I would try to help. But you’re right. We should display our clothing first on a paragon of womanhood, then show what it will look like on the average woman. It’s a smart sales strategy.”
Ned frowned. “Back up a minute, Dickie. Why was she irate?”
Dickie waved his hand. “Oh, just a misunderstanding over weapons. It’s taken care of. Want eggs for breakfast again?”
Ned opened his mouth as if to debate the issue more, then obviously decided not to. “Sure, I’ll be out in a minute.”
Dickie was pleased with how smoothly the next few days progressed. He mainly baked cookies with Cody’s help while Ned and Caroline worked on business logistics.
Lindsey spent most of her days tweaking her clothing line. Fortunately, she was usually responsive to the few suggestions Dickie made. First, he encouraged buttons in the shape of boars, his longtime personally chosen badge. The beasts were known to be aggressive fighters and had played important roles in favorite stories he had read as a youth. Next, he strictly forbade fabrics with red roses on them, the symbol of the Lancasters, but directed her to choose material with whitish roses, the York family’s emblem. He conceded on allowing her to offer purple items, though the color should have been reserved just for royalty. He also suggested using toggle closures instead of zippers when she was able. They gave more of a medieval feel. But he also remembered well which outfits were his wife Annie’s favorites. Lindsey, however, proved stubborn about not using real fur trim on her dresses. But for the most part, Dickie was content with how well he worked with her.
At night Lindsey would usually spend time alone with Ned on the front porch. Dickie noticed that often there was some pretense, such as discussing the TBN contract again or where to obtain the best fabrics, which would first start their conversation. But as Dickie would relax on the couch, watching television, occasionally looking out the window during commercials, he would often see them smiling at each other or hear their laughter through the doorway. His cousin Ned was definitely happy and had a bounce to his step again.
But the day finally arrived for the concluding contract negotiations. It was clear that no matter how much of a fuss Lindsey had originally made about working for Dickie, she now was eager for this enterprise to succeed. She packed the samples herself, gave specific instructions to Dickie for how the clothing should be handled, rehearsed over and over what she wanted him to say about each outfit, and basically fretted and paced the day before Ned and Dickie departed. The important meeting would determine whether Dickie would be selling only shortbread cookies during Holidays in August or additionally, his new clothing line for TBN.
Chapter Twenty
Snorkels was late for their meeting. Ned and Dickie were asked to take a seat at the conference table until she finished up whatever business was keeping them waiting.
Ned spoke up. “Dickie, I was wondering whether Cody expected to go on my next camping trip with me.”
“I forgot to even mention the camping to him yet. Why?” Dickie was puzzled. They were waiting for an important meeting to begin and Ned was thinking about camping?
“Oh, uh, er . . . Lindsey would like to see some of the Rocky Mountain’s unique flora and fauna.”
Dickie burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. He slapped Ned on the back. “How soon will the wedding be?”
Ned rolled his eyes. “We’re not talking about marriage, for God’s sake, Dickie.”
Dickie frowned. “I’ve already told you what’s expected when you compromise an innocent. She is an innocent, isn’t she?”
Ned groaned, clearly exasperated. Dickie was afraid he was about to begin his head banging again when Snorkels walked in. They both stood.
“Have a seat, gentlemen. Sorry I’m late.” Snorkels was in a short gray business suit with high heels. They all sat down.
Dickie spoke up first. “You’re looking particularly lovely today, Ms. Snorkels.” Ned nudged Dickie’s thigh under the table. What? What was wrong with saying that?
Snorkels fought back a smile. “Thank you, Mr. York. Shall we begin? Let’s start with the shortbread cookies. After that, I’ll call in our design consultants to review your clothing samples.”
“I have a surprise for Dougie on the next show.”
Snorkels frowned. “All surprises must be submitted for approval first, Mr. York.”
Dickie countered, “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, now, would it? But very well. I’ll tell you. I’m lining a custard cup with my special shortbread, then filling it with some of Dougie’s favorite macaroni and cheese.”
Ned looked briefly revolted and began a gagging motion, before he caught himself. Snorkels appeared pleased and said, “Now, that’s the kind of surprise that is totally acceptable. I’m sure Dougie will love it.”
“He will?”
Dickie turned to Ned. “If you watched the show more often, you would know that Dougie adores his macaroni and cheese.”
Snorkels interjected. “He certainly does. It’s a battle between the macaroni and cheese and his waist. But what we need to discuss is that not only will we be offering the individual shortbread versions in orders of thirty each, as well as the deluxe set of shortbread cookies containing fifteen of each type of cookie, but the network has decided it would like to offer the cookies in auto-order.”
Dickie shouted with his hands in the air. “Brilliant!”
Ned cleared his throat and looked serious. “Auto-order?”
Snorkels smirked. “You really don’t watch the network muc
h, do you, Mr. York?”
Ned demurred. “Well, I, uh—”
Dickie interrupted. “Ned, auto-order is fantastic. Once you sign up, the food just keeps coming and coming and coming, even if you don’t need any more or forgot to order some more on your own. It’ll make us rich!” Dickie pounded his fist once on the table and grinned.
Snorkels snapped her brows together. “Auto-order runs every three months for one year and can be cancelled by the customer at any time without penalty. It’s not meant to trick the customer into receiving more than they want, but is meant as another convenient way for our customers to receive their orders.”
Dickie snorted.
Her frown deepened. “So should I take it as your consent to place the shortbread under auto-order?”
Ned and Dickie said in unison, “Absolutely.”
Snorkels picked up her phone and spoke. “Tell them to come in.” She looked over at Ned and Dickie. “I believe all details on the medieval clothing line preliminary contracts have been agreed upon, pending final approval of the samples.” She looked over at the opening door. “Ah, here they are now. Ms. Katrinka is in charge of sizing specifications, Mr. Shanee overall design, and Mr. Loralie color and future trends.” They all nodded pleasantly to Dickie and Ned as they walked into the room.
Hmmm. Dickie suspected that stout Katrinka woman would have made an excellent medieval warrior, woman or not. But there was just something a little different about Misters Shanee and Loralie; he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. His thoughts were interrupted as a rack of his clothing was rolled into the room. They had been clearly taken out of Lindsey’s special packaging and placed on padded hangers by someone at TBN. This was it. Showtime.
Dickie stood and started to walk over to the rack. He quickly found his carefully planned descriptions of each item were unnecessary.
Katrinka was already noting the size on each item and measuring with a tape the dimensions of each article. Shanee was holding up articles with a critical eye and uttering approving words such as “fabulous” and “gorgeous” and “stunning.” Loralie was expressing a desire to see some items in other colors or with contrasting belts.
But it was a query by Snorkels that caused the most stir. “Should we have our in-house designers intervene?”
Ned, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly jumped to his feet. “No! We made it explicit in the contract that we have creative responsibility and final decisions on designers involved. It’s our designer or a no-go.”
Dickie crossed his arms and smiled, amused how Ned was surely going to slay any dragons that threatened Lindsey. But Katrinka, Shanee, and Loralie just looked up at Ned’s sharp tone of voice. None seemed to want to give an opinion on the matter. Snorkels dismissed the three with an order to send a written report summarizing each of their opinions.
Snorkels frowned. “Mr. York, I am aware that you are not so familiar with TBN. Perhaps ‘intervene’ was too strong a word. What I should have said was, should we have our in-house designers collaborate with your designer? That sort of working arrangement is pursued all the time. Your designer is inexperienced and unknown, after all.”
If possible, Ned’s facial expression seemed to turn even more combative. Dickie quickly spoke up. He certainly had had his fair share of experience trying to placate angry lords. “The clothing line speaks for itself. It’s elegant, wearable, and stylish. Our designer has talent, and isn’t that the most important credential? We can offer her your in-house designer’s help; however, if our designer does not want it, we will stand by her decision. Sound reasonable?”
Snorkels’s lips tightened briefly before she spoke. “TBN has made exceptions with you since the beginning, when you were given a selling slot without any proven track record. Any further inconsistencies from normal practice would have to be reviewed by committee.”
Ned glared. “And the committee needs to be reminded that we have agreed to lifetime exclusive TBN selling rights for those hit cookies. Surely a bonus for TBN.”
Ned had hinted to Dickie a couple days ago that there was a legal loophole for that issue. But, onward, Ned! Dickie had to admit Ned looked rather dashing in his business suit. Dickie looked down at himself. Ned had insisted he wear a modern suit also. No, it just didn’t compare with his normal regal attire, but he liked how the tailor had added extra padding to his left shoulder so his right shoulder did not appear slightly higher due to his curved spine.
But Snorkels was speaking again while standing up. “I will get back to you as soon as possible about TBN’s final decision. If we are to add the clothing line to Holidays in August, this deal needs to be finalized, or not, quickly.”
Ned nodded curtly and stared at Snorkels’s retreating back. As the door closed, Dickie said, “She has nice legs.”
“I didn’t notice.” Ned started packing up his briefcase.
Dickie leaned against the table. “I’m not worried at all, are you?”
Ned looked up. “It’s just . . . Dickie, so much rides on a favorable decision. . . .” He just shook his head and finished packing.
Dickie grasped his shoulder. “Come on, Ned. Let’s get out of here. You’ll feel better once we reach Colorado.”
But Ned continued to stew on the flight back and for most of the drive to Estes Park from the airport. He desperately wanted Lindsey to stay in Colorado. Despite what he had said to Dickie about marriage, Lindsey was the one. The person who made him happiest in the entire world. He hoped to become intimate with her on their camping trip. And if—wonder of all wonders—she could overlook his misstep in not denying that Dickie was actually Richard III, she might agree to marry him sometime in the future.
Every time he was near her, he yearned to hold her and kiss her. But Ned had kept his physical distance, trying to gauge her potential reaction. Surely she expected to share a tent on their proposed camping trip. She wasn’t just interested in flora and fauna, was she?
When Ned turned into the cabin driveway, his phone rang. He frowned and answered immediately. It was Snorkels. Yes . . . Yes . . . Yes . . . All right! The deal had gone through! He hung up and screeched the car to a stop.
Dickie was looking at him expectantly in the passenger seat. “So?”
“We did it. High five!” Ned raised his hand. Dickie looked at him, baffled. Oh, right. Cousin Clarence and he were the only people who ever did that congratulatory expression anymore, not that Dickie ever had.
Dickie motioned with his head over at the cabin. “Well, go tell her.”
Ned looked over and saw Lindsey slowly descending the steps of the porch, tentatively heading toward him to hear the news. He bounced out of the car and darted toward her. He stopped abruptly a few feet away from her and shouted, “Victory!”
She squealed, “Oh, my God!” and then closed the remaining distance between them. She grabbed him around the cheeks and kissed him soundly on the lips. But as Ned briefly broke the kiss and looked tenderly into her eyes, there was recognition between them of deeper feelings than just happiness over the TBN contract. He lowered his lips and kissed her softly and reverently at first, but changed it to a deeper, more passionate kiss as the seconds whirled by.
He briefly registered Dickie quipping as he walked by, “Flora and fauna, my arse.”
But otherwise, for several more moments they were in a world all their own, right there in the front yard. He ended the kiss and took Lindsey’s hand. Silently he started walking toward the mountain trail that ascended beside the house. Anywhere for them to get complete privacy, away from the RV and cabin.
He could hear another car climbing the driveway and then coming to a stop. He didn’t care who it was. He wanted to be alone with the love of his life. The car door slammed shut. He kept walking, not bothering to turn around. But then he heard it.
A familiar sweet voice calling, “Neddie? Is that you?”
He dropped Lindsey’s hand and turned around in horror. “Charlena?!”
Chapter Twenty-One
Charlena was her normal bubbly self. She scurried over to Ned and gave him a quick hug. She looked intently into his eyes. “Oh, Neddie. I’m so glad you forgave me. I felt so terrible for what happened between us.”
Ned didn’t know how to respond. But Charlena wasn’t finished. “I can’t believe you want me to model clothes for you.”
Ned gaped. “I do?”
Lindsey took a few steps back.
Charlena looked suddenly hurt and confused and said in a small voice, “You don’t?”
Ned frowned. Was she going to start crying? He didn’t want that. “Uh . . . well, possibly I did.”
Lindsey turned and quietly started walking toward the RV. Ned called out, “Lindsey, wait!” She didn’t turn back around, but motioned with her hand to leave her alone.
Dickie seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Ned, I guess I forgot to tell you. I hired Charlena to model the clothes on TBN. I called her yesterday to tell her the deal was being finalized today with TBN and to fly here as soon as she could.”
Ned sputtered. “But we didn’t even know if it would be.”
Dickie smiled. “I was sure of it. Now, why don’t you properly introduce me to this stunning lady? We’ve only talked over the phone.”
“Charlena, this is my English cousin, Richard. Richard, Charlena.”
Dickie bowed over her hand. “Enchanté. Call me Dickie, love.”
Ned rolled his eyes. Charlena giggled and smiled pleasantly. “I already have been.”
Dickie held out his arm for her to take. “Now let me introduce you to the rest of our employees. I’m sure they’re all anxious to properly meet you.”
Ned wasn’t so sure about that. But he did know that circumstances had conspired to deal a serious blow to his relationship with Lindsey.
Lindsey looked around the immaculately clean RV and shook her head, somewhat dumbfounded. She’d never lived in such neat-appearing surroundings. But when Charlena had cheerfully started picking up the place, despite the fact that she had grown up with servants all her life, Caroline and Lindsey had guiltily joined in, and now it was turning into just a habit for them all to keep the RV tidy.