by Cate Beauman
“Since I’ve never been one to fold, I’m going to do what I do best and use this latest development to my advantage.”
A few people laughed while others cheered their encouragement.
“I thought you might approve.” Lily grinned. “I’ve decided it’s time to work on a new cause very dear to my heart. It’s here among my friends that I announce the launch of Lily Brand’s latest line, the Escape line.”
Abby set down her glass among the raucous applause, afraid she would drop it as Lily’s gaze met hers across the room, and her words sunk in.
“I’ll be handing over this endeavor to one of my very best and brightest. She, along with our new product, will make their debut at Fashion Week.”
“Who, Lily?” Jeremiah Jacobson asked. “Who’s your new designer?”
She shrugged. “I guess we’ll all find out next month.”
Abby’s heart pounded as she looked from Lily to Jerrod. “Did she just—I can’t—Jerrod.” She shook her head in utter disbelief, reaching for his hand.
He laced their fingers, holding tight, while the room buzzed with speculation.
“Do you know who?” Tyler asked Abby.
She shook her head again. “I’m—I’m not sure.”
“This is news to us,” Jerrod added.
“I’ve never been more excited for Fashion Week. This should certainly kill Toni’s buzz.” Tyler laughed. “Leave it to Lily to use this entire situation...”
“Yeah,” Abby replied with a small smile, still in the throws of shock.
“How about some air,” Jerrod said into her ear. “We have about twenty minutes before we have to head to the airport.”
She nodded.
Jerrod helped her push back her chair, and they started toward the double-pocketed doors of the balcony, but Lily stopped them. “Heading out?”
Abby’s eyes filled as she stared at the amazing woman before her. “Oh, Lily.” She moved in to hug her.
Jerrod stopped her with a hand to the shoulder. “If you hug her now, you’ll kill the mystery.”
“You’re right.” She took Lily’s hands instead. “How do I thank you for everything? How do I thank you for making my dreams come true?”
“You kick ass, kid.”
“Oh, I’ll kick ass…after the shock wears off.”
Lily laughed. “And I want you walking the runway again as soon as the general here says it’s safe.” Lily stepped back, looking Abby up and down. “Damn, Abigail Harris, there’s not much height to you, but you sure as hell know how to make my designs come alive. Doesn’t she, General?”
Jerrod nodded. “She looks lovely.”
Lily snorted. “Lovely’s a little g-rated, but we’ll go with it.” She winked at Jerrod. “You could make a potato sack look like something everyone wants to wear.”
She grinned. “Only if it’s designed well.”
“Ha. We’ll go with that too.”
Abby’s smile vanished as reality snuck back to amaze her. “Thank you, Lily.”
Lily waved the gratitude away. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while now. Do you still have those clothes you wowed me with at your interview?”
“Yes, of course. They’re hanging in my closet.”
“Good. You’ll need to bring them with you to the shoot.”
“What shoot,” she and Jerrod asked at the same time.
“Connie Withers wants you for the March issue of Trendy.”
Abby’s eyes popped wide as she absorbed the next surprise. “Nuh uh.”
“She wants an interview and photo shoot showcasing the new line—or what we have of it so far.”
Abby pressed a hand to her forehead, laughing in amazement. “You’re making this up.”
“I’m sure as shit not. Nine a.m. Friday at the Trendy studios.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“They want to use you for several photos. Are you up for whatever they throw your way?”
“Yeah. Yes. Definitely.”
“Lily, Abby can’t do this.” Jerrod stepped closer to Abby. “Abby, you can’t do this.”
Abby opened her mouth to object, but Lily cut her off.
“Of course she can. The mystery behind the designer along with rumors of the shoot will give the brand more exposure. It’s brilliant marketing. Everyone will want a copy of the magazine.”
“That may be, but we can’t take these risks.”
Abby opened her mouth again and quickly closed it when Lily jumped in for the second time.
“We’re going to use Jackie and Marco for hair and makeup. You know them. You’ve cleared them both. And I assure you Zenn MacGreggor and Connie are no danger to Abby. I’ve made sure this is safe, Jerrod. We won’t leak the rumored shoot until after it has already happened.”
“And the trial will be over by the time the magazine hits the shelves,” Abby finally added, frustrated that her new adventure was just beginning and precautions were already ruining everything. “Prosecutor Bitner said there shouldn’t be anymore delays.”
Jerrod’s calm eyes held her gaze. “Just because the trial’s over doesn’t mean you’ll be in the clear.”
She pressed her lips firm, well aware that he was right. “I’m doing this. I need to do this.”
He shook his head. “It’s a bad idea.”
It probably was, but she couldn’t live in the shadows forever, unless she planned to give up her career, which she didn’t. “This is my dream.”
“Tell you what, General. I’ll talk to Connie about a contingency plan. We’ll make sure there’s a Plan B if things aren’t going the way we want them to in regards to Abby’s safety.”
Jerrod sighed. “Send me your ideas, and we’ll go from there.”
“Fine. Done.” Lily turned her attention back to Abby. “Connie wants to discuss the new line and our plans to donate one hundred percent of the profits to the safe houses we’re starting here in LA and Baltimore.”
“Lily,” Abby whispered as her eyes filled again, but this time they overflowed. “Oh, Lily.” The clothing line and the safe houses. This was everything she’d been wanting—a way to change lives while doing what she loved most. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“I’ll scan over the main points I want you to hit during the interview. Of course you’ll have input after we’ve had more of a chance to talk, but this should get us started.”
“Thank you.” She sniffled and wiped at her cheeks.
“Shit, Abby, thank you. My profit margins are about to go through the roof, and there’s a good cause behind it. We both get what we want.” She glanced around. “I should mingle.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you Wednesday.”
She nodded, her voice too tight with emotion to do more as Lily walked away.
“Come on.” Jerrod took her arm. “Let’s get your wrap, and I’ll call Austin. We can head to the airport a couple minutes early.”
“All right,” she murmured, suddenly overwhelmed by the daunting evening. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”
“Okay.” Jerrod veered toward the hall closet.
Abby continued down the hall, pausing outside Lily’s master suite when she spotted another balcony. Craving fresh air, she stepped in and unlocked the slider, pulling it open, bracing herself against the rushing winds and shock of cold as she walked to the railing. Her teeth chattered, and she gripped her arms tightly around herself as she stared out at the city, relishing the freedom and endless views, afraid she might have somehow imagined the entire evening. How often did a person actually get everything they’d ever dreamed of?
“I thought you had to go to the bathroom.”
She whirled with a hand to her heart. “I just needed a minute.”
Jerrod stepped up next to her, placing her wrap around her shoulders.
“Thank you.” She held the white cashmere tight.
“Damn it’s cold out here.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he hunched
against the harsh rush of wind.
She tilted her chin to the air. “I like the breeze. It’s real.” She turned, facing him. “Is this—the private jets and limo rides, dinner and conversation with my idols, my own clothing line?” She laughed. “Am I going to wake up in my bed, or worse, in the stash house only to realize my subconscious was playing nasty tricks on me?”
His jacket blew about with the next unforgiving gust. “It’s too damn cold out here to be anything but reality. Although if we are dreaming, I want more of that cake.”
She smiled. “I can’t believe this is happening. I wish Gran were here. She would be so proud. And Lex… I don’t know what to think or feel.”
“Is this what you want?”
“Oh, yeah.” She smiled again. “I’ve wanted this since I sewed my own prom dress. I’ve wanted the Escape line since the night Lex and I were stuck on Zachary Hartwell’s roof.”
“You’ve got it. What are you going to do with it, Abigail?”
“I’m going to take it and run…after I stop being terrified.” She laughed again and threw her arms around him, holding on to the warmth and comfort that was Jerrod.
He returned her embrace, his rough hands sliding along the bare, sensitive skin of her back as her wrap flew about like a cape. “Abigail, you’re freezing.”
She drew away, still holding him, unwilling to let go. “I’d say I’m more afraid than anything.” She planted a noisy kiss to his cheek, then looked in his eyes. “And really, really happy.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around her without his typical hesitation and turned, taking the brunt of the unforgiving winds. “Congratulations, Abby. Your vision’s going to help a lot of people.”
“Thank you.” She grinned as he did, savoring this perfect moment. Then she remembered yesterday. “I’m sorry.”
His smile turned into a frown. “For what?”
“For yesterday.”
He shook his head. “It’s over. We’re here. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
“But I—”
“Water under the bridge, Abby.”
“Okay.”
“Now can we go inside?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
“Thank god.” He winked.
She laughed and took his hand, walking back into Lily’s bedroom as his cell phone started ringing.
He stopped and pulled his phone free, glancing at the readout. “It’s Austin. We should go.” He pressed ‘talk.’ “Quinn. Yeah. We’re ready.” He grabbed her hand and they moved down the hall as he continued his conversation.
Abby gave Lily a wave on the way out, listening to Jerrod spew his jargon, watching him move his jacket so his weapon was at the ready. The magic of the evening quickly vanished when he opened the door, keeping her close, and Austin met them. There were no more princes and princesses or pretty roses and candlelight. She still had her clothing line, but she also had her grim reality.
Chapter Seven
Jerrod stood close to the stage, scanning the small group of parents and faculty members scattered among the first few rows of auditorium seating. For two hours he’d watched the double doors and stage exits closely, making certain everyone entering or exiting wore a red badge identifying them as a member of South Central High’s Day of Fashion. He checked his watch in the dim lighting, counting down the minutes until he could get Abby out of here, tensing when the auditorium doors opened for the umpteenth time. His gaze flew to the woman stepping in, and he automatically searched for a tag on her shirt, relaxing—sort of—when he spotted it.
Today should have been a cakewalk. Abby had helped Lily host a similar event with the same group of kids earlier in the fall. The aspiring designers were supposed to share their sketches and the outfits they’d created, get a few critiques, then eat a catered lunch in the faculty lounge down the hall. That was it, end of story, gravy, but nothing was as simple as it had been in October. Instead of enjoying an easy morning of watching Abby interact with a great group of teenagers, he was on high alert, waiting for something to go wrong. He was expecting it.
Lily’s plan to turn the media in her favor had worked in spades. The newspapers and entertainment rags no longer focused on underpaid models and prostitution; instead, they filled the headlines with misinformation—from the practical to the absurd—speculating on the identity of Lily’s new mystery designer. Abby remained in the clear for now; her name had yet to be mentioned, but she was going to have to throttle back—all the way back before their luck ran out and she was discovered. And today could be that day.
Although Lily kept her at-risk youth program discreet, it was only a matter of time before someone caught wind that Lily was spending the morning at the university. Locked doors and the rent-a-cop stationed outside the building wouldn’t keep reporters hunting for the next Lily Brand story away for long.
He glanced at his watch again as Abby’s laughter carried through the huge space, accompanied by chuckles from her captive audience crowded around her on the stage floor. She sat with Lily among their ‘apprentice team’ of ten young men and women, relaxed with her hair up in a pony tail, wearing a red button down sweater with a snug black shirt beneath, dark blue jeans and black boots. Lily was certainly the money behind today’s event, but Abby was the star. The kids adored her, hanging on her every word as she answered their endless questions and offered hints and suggestions when she held up each students’ sketch one by one.
She loved being here. Her enthusiasm was genuine, her passion infectious. He hated that he had to worry more about door duty, red stickers, and exit plans than the good Abby was doing, but that’s the way it was.
She glanced up, meeting his eyes for a tense moment, then gave her attention back to her group. They’d argued again this morning. Despite every logical reason he’d given her for canceling her appearance, she’d refused. They need me, Jerrod. This might be their only shot at something better. Her heated words echoed in his head as he scanned the crowd.
A month ago, he would have been all for her participation; hell, even a week ago this wouldn’t have been a big deal, but that was before the media circus unknowingly joined in the hunt for Abigail Harris.
“Latisha,” Abby got to her feet, smiling at the pretty girl. “Why don’t you show us your sample?”
“Sure.” Latisha hopped to her feet and stood next to Abby in front of the group.
“All right, let’s see what you have this time around.” Abby rubbed her hands together greedily, earning another round of chuckles.
Latisha hesitated. “I don’t think it’s very good.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge?”
“Okay.” She unfolded a solid black dress with a vivid, multi-colored flower sewn on the side and a tank top matching the bright bloom.
Abby blinked. “Latisha, this is great.”
The girl beamed. “Really?”
“Yes. Really. Lily, do you agree?”
"Absolutely."
“Thanks.”
Abby took the dress from Latisha. “Your design has great cohesion, not to mention amazing flow. This is very summery. I would wear it.”
Latisha eyed her skeptically.
“I’ll put it on right now. We’ll use this as one of our examples of clean lines and excellent movement. Jeremiah, why don’t I take your top too? I think your shirt and Latisha’s skirt will pair well.”
Latisha’s eyes filled with guarded excitement as Abby started toward the small dressing space and a camera flashed. Jerrod focused on the heavyset woman snapping picture after picture in the front row—Latisha’s mother no doubt—and walked toward her.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” He smiled. “I’m afraid this is a non-photographed event.”
“I’m taking a picture of my baby girl. Ms. Abby says she makes great stuff.”
“You must be very proud. The dress is beautiful,” he added, still going with tact before he was forced to take the camera away, which more than likely wouldn'
t go over well. “We’re trying hard to protect Lily’s privacy right now with all of the media buzz. She wants to be able to do this for the kids without drawing attention. It keeps the day special. Lily will take pictures with everyone during the lunch break.”
Latisha’s mother eyed him, then huffed. “All right. If that’s the way you want it.” She shoved the camera in her enormous purse.
“For Lily and the kids,” he reminded her as he let out a quiet sigh. The last thing the needed was a Lily Brand brawl adding to the headlines.
Latisha’s mother grumbled as she took her seat.
“I appreciate it, as does Lily.”
The kids clapped, and Jerrod turned, smiling as Abby stepped from the small dressing space, strutting around the stage in the snug, roughly sewn tank top created by Jeremiah and the pretty skirt Latisha made.
“So, what do you think? Constructive thoughts only.” She stood hipshot, then turned, walking as she had hundreds of times in their dining room. Even with the shoddy tailoring, she made the outfit look great. “Let’s start with what we like, then we’ll move on to what our designers could do to improve their techniques. Tamara, your hand is up.”
“The pattern is off on the shirt, but the fabric is a nice choice.”
Abby nodded. “I absolutely agree. A design is only as good as the fabric. The sketch might be great, but if the actual piece doesn’t translate well, your back to the drawing board. Jeremiah, I like the fit, but something fell apart during assembly right here around my arms.” She pointed to the lopsided sewing by her armpits. “Let your mannequin be your guide. If it doesn’t look right on her, it won’t look right on me.”
Jeremiah nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Abby, but I don’t have a mannequin.”
“Oh.” Abby looked from Jeremiah to Lily. “Okay, well, there are ways to get around that.”
“Abby, I think we can help Jeremiah out.” Lily stood and walked to the draped platform crowding the right side of the stage. “Actually, I think we can help all of our designers out. Abby, can you grab the other end.”
“Sure.” Abby moved to the opposite side taking hold of the huge sheet.