Making Waves (The Happy Endings Resort Book 20)

by Fifi Flowers

  Back from dinner at a little underground sushi place, Mitzi complained about her feet and plopped down on the sofa in our executive suite—one huge room, a king bed, and a sitting area—and removed her shoes.

  “Oh my, God! I have a great idea. Will you be a dear… I’ll be your bestest friend forever…” Two beautiful pleading eyes looked up at me and I was ready to do whatever she wanted. “Grab my sketch book and a pen. I have to draw this idea before I forget… in my bag over there.” Following her finger, I went in search and was about to bring it back to her when she spoke up again, “Just reach in. It’s okay… go in my purse… I have nothing to hide.”

  I wasn’t so sure that was the case and decided to have a bit of fun with her as the three large beers we split were kicking in. “Special-O lipstick?” I held up the unusual tube so she could see it.

  “Put that back! Don’t you know what a pen and paper look like?”

  I wasn’t ready to give up as the look on her face, along with its redness, was priceless. “You carry that around with you?”

  “Do you carry a condom in your wallet?” She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow waiting for my answer.

  I chuckled. “Of course, I’m a guy. Need it in case I get lucky.”

  “Well, there’s no difference, but I have backup if I don’t get lucky.”

  “Wow! You are prepared. I see you have a Love-Me-Box too… another toy?”

  “Seriously, find the paper and pen… you’re making my vision fade…” Her voice was faint on her last words before she spoke so I could hear since I hadn’t put the box back. “It is a discreet condom carrier, okay? Are you happy? And by the way you are officially not allowed to get into my purse again.”

  “Don’t be mad at me,” I said, locating the items she asked for, walking them over to her, and grabbing a seat near her feet on the sofa.

  “You owe me,” she pouted. “I bought you dinner and then you humiliate me.”

  “Let me see if this does it for you.” I raised her feet up and watched her eyes grow big and darkened as I placed them in my lap and began to rub her arches.

  “Oh,” she moaned and threw her head back, closing her eyes. “You are… amazing with your hands… and so forgiven… don’t stop… more, more.” That move and her moans had my pants tightening and I was thankful that she couldn’t see that her gestures had me wanting to rub more than her feet, but for that moment I let that be enough.

  “Enough! Time to get out of the water, you love-struck puppy before you drown or get hurt. That last wave almost swallowed you up and spit you out.” Frank was right. “You need to make the move on this fucking trip. You’ve had too many opportunities and never gone for it. Put that into your mental notebook. But for now, shut off the love working out in your head and let’s ride one last wave in before you get yourself too fucked up to go anywhere.”

  Agreeing with him, we paddled on down the line and rode a pair of waves to the shore. I had to get going on my plans.

  Chapter Three

  Mitzi

  I couldn’t believe it. I was so excited. I was going off with Jack alone with no one flying through the door asking us to wow them with our latest collection. He mentioned collaborating on our new collection but that wouldn’t take up all of our time. Surely, he meant for us to have some fun too. Too bad he wouldn’t be willing to really let his hair down and play with me. I giggled at my imagination running to all kinds of wrong that Jack would never go for with me. We did need to make some changes since I had made promises during our last market week and that was probably what had prompted Jack to suggest the trip… the research trip. I needed to get my head back to remembering that he was my business partner and not my potential lover.

  “Mitzi, you have got to give these to me in high heels.” Karen, a big buyer from San Francisco was in for market week and her words never varied. She wanted us to give her heels and she was right I could see our sandals with a high heel. I just wasn’t really interested in going that route. However, I did want to sell shoes and the rubber-band sandal had captured her eye.

  How could anyone not love that shoe? I designed them one day sitting in the studio daydreaming about Jack as he rattled on about a shoe form that wasn’t coming out just right. He used so many technical terms as he spoke that I often got lost in his words. That day he really wanted my attention and shot me with a black fabric coated rubber band. He definitely got my attention as it hit me on the side of my face. It didn’t hurt, thankfully, but the way it bounced on to my sketch pad had my pencil scribbling wildly. Linking rubber bands on the top of the foot in unique patterns, I thanked Jack as he was trying to apologize for hitting me. I told him he could make it up to me by figuring out how we could construct the shoes. I wasn’t sure if they could be made into a high heel version but we could try, I thought to myself without consulting Jack and made a bold statement.

  “If you buy this complete line, I will make you high heels.”

  Karen clapped her hands and took a swallow of bubbly from her champagne glass as if she was already celebrating her victory.

  “Not this season.” Jack spoke up and Karen’s face instantly fell as she bit into a deviled egg sprinkled with a dollop of caviar—Lark knew how to feed the buyers in her showroom. “I need to make sure the construction is sound since a heel would require stability to the overall design and we would be eliminating the back zipper. How would you fit your foot into the shoe? Those are problems that would need to be solved along with the factor of comfort.”

  “They’re heels, Jack,” Karen retorted, “no heel is comfortable.”

  “That is part of our branding. Beauty as well as safety and comfort.” Jack refused to back down when it came to standing behind our company.

  “Well, I’m sure that Master Builder Jack can do some research. I’m thinking… maybe by next season’s collection and you take all of this collection now to be featured for its appropriate season.” Karen was studying me and looking between us. “Jack is brilliant. I have faith in him.” I was really trying to sell her as I wanted our current line in all of her flagship stores across the country.

  “He needs to come up with a dress shoe too…” Oh no, Karen was really pushing it there. I didn’t even look toward Jack. “…Nothing too fancy, but it would be nice to see him in a stylish shoe. A cool guy in cool shoes.”

  “Are you saying my feet are too ugly for my flip-flop line? Jack questioned her wearing his signature footwear. He had really nice feet.

  “Not at all, I think you’re hot as fuck, honey… even the toes. I’d just like to see you dressed up and looking GQ. I saw your magazine layout. I think every woman in town ran out to buy your shoes hoping they would make their own men look better. Imagine what you could do for a dressier line.” Karen was a top buyer and definitely knew what sold and what did not. She, also, never had a problem selling out of our seasonal Fritzi Mitzi collections, and she was always reordering from our F & M flip-flop line.

  I was pretty sure that butting of heads was another reason for our trip… but whatever. Our squabbles were probably allotting me a trip to Monte Carlo to check out what the fashionable men and women were wearing. Perfect for inspiration! I definitely needed some fab resort wear and I knew just where to get it; Lark’s showroom. She was our LA rep in the garment district just down the way from our studio. I loved to pop in on her as she always had racks of samples in a back storage room. So much to choose from too! I was getting more and more excited as I walked a few blocks down and over to Ninth Street, across from the Mart.

  Stepping inside of the huge showroom loft space, I found Lark with another designer, Tomasina, who designed killer high-end jewelry with real stones and nice quality faux ones for her lower-end line. I had wanted to set an appointment with her about adding faux jewels to our sandals… maybe it was a sign for our new designs—mental note taken. But I decided not to say anything without speaking with Jack first as I didn’t want to make anymore bold decisions on my own.
Keeping my mouth shut, I slipped into the treasure room and filled my self-supplied shopping bags with amazing clothes. I couldn’t wait to be the hit on the French Riviera, strutting along for all to see—I was sure that these looks would surely turn a few heads.

  Back to the studio, I unloaded a few additional items to decorate my stark desk that could also be used with appropriate outfits. I had ordered a set of Singer Summerfield bejeweled box purses in every color she made, a rainbow of fun; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. Standing back admiring them after lining them up perfectly on the edge of my drafting table, Jack came walking in the door.

  There was that gorgeous man that I was about to go on vacation with. I was doing a little dance inside after purchasing my wardrobe. I wondered what he would think of some of the sexy numbers I bought. He might not find them stimulating in the way I hoped, but he always made me feel great with his comments. Well, most of the time he did… however, he did also like to prod me about dressing too fancy. I will have to admit that I may have worn a dress that would be great at a nightclub to a NASCAR race, but he told me that we were going to be sitting in a VIP suite. It did have a very nice wide red racing stripe down each side—great for enhancing the figure—of the tightly fitted black dress. It was all about creating the right look. He teased me playfully when I explained and then he suggested that a checkered flag print might have been an even better look. His commentary on my fashionable ensemble had me in stitches and we caused a little scene, but it was fun… life with Jack.

  “What are those?” I knew what he was referring to immediately.

  “Competition for your LEGO collection.” I was quick with an answer that had him laughing and shaking his head.

  It really wasn’t a competition, but they did echo his bright stack of primary colored blocks dotted with a few miniature cars made from smaller blocks. My boxes were like a girly version of them at a brief glance. My desk space had been pretty boring before I set them up, I realized. I had never paid much attention to our two oversized drafting tables side by side, I just liked seeing them close together when I walked into work. Our job really didn’t seem like work, as in a chore. It was more like a fabulous career… a dream profession that allowed me to be beside my best friend… my best male friend. If Singer heard me call Jack that one, she would give me a dirty look as she had claimed me long before he came along, and two, she would call bullshit. She knew that I had unfriendly, unprofessional… truly unhealthy thoughts about him.

  For some reason I couldn’t get over some of those feelings or maybe they weren’t even what I thought they were all about. Except for my naughty thoughts every now and again when I got a good whiff of him or he rubbed up against me, I loved him as a person. Jack was what they say, the perfect yin to my yang. We connected and we really enjoyed each other’s company, rarely did we fight. We accepted what each of us brought to the table in our friendship and business, even if some things seemed whacky on both of our parts.

  Chapter Four

  Jack

  “Wish me well,” I told Frank as I saw Mitzi making her way to the table. She was right on time as usual. I had never met a woman that was on time for anything.

  “Keep it a surprise is my best advice. Otherwise, I imagine you will be losing money on your non-refundable vacation plans,” Frank warned in my ear. “You are a brave soul. Kevin would absolutely kill me.”

  “Bye, Frank,” I said, lowering my phone.

  “Hi, Frank. Bye, Frank,” Mitzi said, leaning in close to my face. She smelled great and her lips that found my cheek felt even better. If only I could taste them, nibble them, lick them… “What did you say, Mitzi?”

  “I said hang up the phone. Frank is practically screaming on the other end and people are starting to look.”

  I looked around, no one was even batting an eyelash at us, and my inspection of the crowd had her laughing. Shaking my head, I pushed the end call button and wondered why Frank didn’t just push it himself. Then I began to wonder what he was screaming and prayed that he wasn’t singing something like “kiss the girl” like he often sang to me when I talked about Mitzi.

  “So, good news. I found a place and booked their very last reservation. No backing out now.” I handed her a menu.

  “I have good news too.” She set the menu down in front of her and leaned forward like she had a secret she didn’t want anyone to hear. “Business first and then pleasure.” Please stop saying that word I wanted to say. “Karen wrote up the whole collection, reordered some F & M flip-flops for her resort stores, and she added a note that she was willing to give us two seasons before we have to deliver heels to her department stores.”

  That was all good news, but I really didn’t know how we were going to convert some of Mitzi’s designs into heels without losing our integrity… or maybe just mine. I hoped that Mitzi wouldn’t sell me out and would stick to the reason I agreed to come onboard… to form our partnership. In the end, they were her designs but I brought them to life for her and we had been praised for their construction in several magazines: “Beautiful, stylish, and smart.”

  “Good to hear so that we can really brainstorm and come up with a proper and practical solution. If we can do that, they might have to be something different than anything you have ever designed. I do think we both agree that we will only do sandals?” I lifted my glass of ale and looked over the rim as I drank.

  “I agree one hundred percent.” She lifted the glass of Chianti I had ordered for her before she arrived and reached out to clink it to my glass. “Here’s to never making completely closed-in shoes. Long live the sandal!” I grinned at her, she is perfect to my way of thinking. “Enough with business, let’s order, I’m starving for raviolis. Then you have to tell me more about our surprise vacation.” Settling her glass on the table, she clapped her hands together, so cute.

  “Did you just hear what you said? Surprise vacation. If I tell you all the details, then it will not be a surprise.” I picked up my menu again. “You want to share a flatbread first? Your choice or we can just get bread.” I already knew her answer but I waited before I ordered with the server standing next to our table.

  “Why eat bread when you can get pizza? Get us something spicy with lots of cheese, yum. And let’s share a mixed green salad with vinaigrette along with it.”

  I didn’t bother to order anything for myself because I knew that I would be finishing most of what she left uneaten. That was usually what we did for lunch. It was a good thing that she had good taste in food. Another way we fit so well together besides working together.

  I looked forward to every day I spent with Mitzi. She came into my life at the right time and saved me from making a decision that I think I never would’ve been satisfied with. I like creating different things. That was why I liked LEGOs so much ever since I was a kid. Simple blocks turned into buildings, cities, cars, boats, other worlds. I never tired of them and people often gave them to me as gifts, especially my brother—he had his own sci-fi space collection. My newest ones came from my three nephews when he took his wife and boys to LEGOLAND. They insisted on presents for Uncle Jack; three small boxes of different cars knowing my love of race cars; racing firetruck, racing super hero car, and a racing train car.

  I built them at work one morning waiting for Mitzi to come back from an appointment. They were the perfect size to sit on my drafting table, I thought to myself as I sat in my ergonomically correct chair—another thing that I created. I had looked for a good chair to sit at my tall desk. When I found nothing that suited me, I bought the most comfortable chair and then took it apart to see if I could modify it. I found that it could be done with a bit of help from a friend. It proved to be a great move as my friend and I have sold several of them since creating mine and then one for Mitzi. She loved that it was comfortable as well as stylish and often helped to promote them to fellow designers who used drafting tables too, telling them that I was a genius. I don’t know about that, I just loved to bui
ld—it was in the blood.

  I grew up in a household that was filled with architectural models and other put together items like model cars and airplanes. First toys in our house were building blocks for me and my brother. I took right to it, my brother took another path preferring to construct breasts instead and became a plastic surgeon. For me, it was a no brainer as I had enjoyed working with my father as a teen on building sites. Both of my parents said I had to go to college. I’m glad I did because I found that there were far more things to construct besides just buildings. But I still think they pushed me toward an education as a way to appease my grandparents.

  My mother’s grandparents… my great-grandparents didn’t like that her parents ran off to America. They didn’t understand why my mother’s parents thought that they needed to leave Italy to give their kids a better life. The older Italian generation didn’t stress the importance of education. So my grandparents brought their kids to America to get educated and made sure that my mother and her brother graduated from college. Then she met a man who wanted her to travel around the country with him going where there was work for him. Against their approval they eloped and she immediately got pregnant with me. The family back in Italy were more concerned that he wasn’t Italian.

  My father proved himself. He was pretty much self-taught from watching and learning from one of his bosses who lectured him about the elements of constructing a building soundly taking into account natural forces and more. He basically got a hands-on education while I learned what he had over five years in college. He moved up quickly to foreman, no longer doing the physical part, he ran the job sights until he got his contractor’s license and began to work with great architects to create his own buildings. Rather than put me to work with him, he insisted that I get an education and be ahead of the game. I always thought that I would eventually work with him and maybe become a partner in his company one day. Who knew that I would go out on my own, partnering with a woman… a beautiful woman to construct designer shoes. One that made me happy and kept me laughing at her quirkiness—she would hate that I labeled her that way, but it was true and I loved it.