by Nita Brooks
* * *
The second she walked through the doors of the gallery and lounge Nicola realized she should have thought this through a little better. At night, the art gallery side was illuminated with dim spotlights on the artwork. Jazz music accompanied by singing drifted through from the connected lounge. The entire place had a warm welcoming vibe.
Warm, welcoming, and appropriate wardrobe required.
The men and women were dressed in cocktail dresses, sleek shirts and slacks, heels, makeup, and expensive cologne. She, on the other hand, was in leggings, a thin t-shirt and her hair... she didn’t want to think about what her hair must look like.
At least you left the bonnet at home.
The woman who’d greeted her weeks ago when she’d first come in walked over to Nicola, stopping her before she could make her way to the lounge.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but you have to purchase a ticket to enjoy the music.”
“How much?” she didn’t have her purse, but she’d taken the time to slide her credit card and license in her bra.
Nicola reached toward the collar of her shirt to retrieve the money. The woman raised a hand. “Umm . . . the cover is twenty-five, but we also have a strict dress code. If you’d like to go home and change, we’d love to have you back.”
Nicola dropped her hand. “Look, I don’t want to stay long. I just need to pop in there and look for someone.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you interrupt the show.” The woman placed a hand on Nicola’s arm and gently tried to turn her away from the door.
Nicola dug her heels into the ground. “No, I really need to get in there. Please, it’ll only take a second. Or you can go in and ask him to come out. I’m looking for Damien Hawkins.”
“Damien is here with a private party. I don’t think he’d like to be disturbed.” The woman’s gentle pressure on Nicola’s arm increased. “If you’d like to leave a note and wait outside.”
“No, I would not like to wait outside. Damien knows me. You met me before. A few months ago. I came in and he greeted me.”
“I remember you.”
Relief made her shoulders relax. Finally, some headway. “Then you understand he knows me. I need to tell him something.”
“Ma’am, you’re making a scene.” The lady glanced around at other patrons who were looking at Nicola. “If you could save your drama for somewhere else I’d appreciate it.”
So much for being recognized. “It’s not drama. I messed up. I broke his heart. I need to apologize. I need to tell him that I love him. That he was right and that I want to try and do better.”
The woman’s eyes softened. Nicola released a breath. Maybe pouring her heart out to people would always make things easier.
“That’s really sweet,” she said. Then her fingers tightened on Nicola’s arm and she forcibly pulled her toward the door. “But you’ll have to confess on another night.”
“What? Wait? Let me go. Please. Just one second. Let me tell him I love him.”
“Nicola?” Damien’s deep voice cracked through the melee. “What are you doing?”
The woman let Nicola go. She swung around toward him. He stood in the door separating the lounge from the gallery. His dreads were pulled back in an intricate style. He wore a loose white shirt, silver chains peeked through the open neckline, dark slacks loosely hugged his long legs. His beautiful eyes were wary, confused as they focused on her.
In that second, she felt like the single most ridiculous woman in the world. “I . . . I wanted to apologize.”
He took a few steps forward. “You could have done that without interrupting my boy’s set.”
Heat flamed up her face. All eyes in the room were on her. “I know. I’m sorry. I would have called, but you aren’t really accepting my calls.”
“I told you we weren’t doing this anymore.”
Her anger from earlier came back. She’d come down here, revealed her heart to two people, embarrassed herself completely, and now he didn’t even want to hear her out. “Why? Because it wasn’t easy and perfect?”
“You’re the one who wants perfection.”
“And you want things not to be messy. You want someone who won’t do you like your ex-wife. Fair enough. But you can’t take every fight we have as another sign I’m going to hurt you the way she hurt you.”
“We tried. It didn’t work out.”
“We tried. I did what I usually do and tried to handle everything on my own. You bailed instead of calling me on my BS. We both messed up.”
“Look—”
“No, you look.” She pointed a finger. “I love you, okay. That’s the other thing on my list. Tell someone I love them. I never did it, even though I thought I’d been in love before. I know now I wasn’t because I never said it. I just internalized it. Kept it to myself and hoped one day they’d see the love in me and realize they loved me, too. That isn’t how life works. That isn’t how relationships work. I should have told you. I should have let you try and help me when I didn’t know how to accept help. I shouldn’t have pushed you away, but it was easier to do that than to admit that someone I loved didn’t love me back. If you don’t want to try again, fine. I’ll accept that, but I couldn’t go another day without saying it.”
The silence that fell after the declaration was thick and huge. Wide eyes of the other people in the gallery swept from her to Damien. His face was a mask. His eyes impenetrable. Humiliation made her face flame, but she wouldn’t take the words back. She’d done it. She’d admitted her feelings, and while it was awkward as hell, she didn’t regret letting Damien Hawkins know that he’d worked his way into her heart.
“What do you want me to do with that?” he asked, his voice thick.
She swallowed and shrugged. “Do what you want with it. I just had to say it.” She glanced at the woman who’d tried to usher her out. “I’m sorry for causing a disturbance.”
She turned and hurried out the door. The night air held the chill of autumn and cooled her flaming face. Her eyes burned with tears threatening to spill. The exhilaration of declaring her emotions warred with the pain of knowing her declaration had been met with rejection. This hurt like hell, but she’d survive.
Tears spilled and she jogged toward her car. She had to get away from here. Screw it, maybe she’d go back to Miami. Or Shonda’s. Shonda made more sense. Who could cry when faced with the excited faces of Shonda’s kids?
“Nicola, wait!” Damien’s voice called.
She ran harder. No way was he seeing her tears. She’d opened her heart to him. Whatever he had to say could wait until tomorrow.
She got to her car and struggled to press the button to unlock it. Damien’s footsteps closed in. His hand slapped the roof of the car with his sudden stop.
“Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
Nicola pressed a hand to her face. She quickly scrubbed away the tears and turned. “I was trying to leave.”
“Why?”
“So you wouldn’t see this.” She pointed to her wet face. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” he said breathless from his sprint.
“What else is there to say?”
He straightened and stared her in the eye. “I love you, too.”
She sucked in a breath. Everything went still for an endless moment. Words she longed to hear didn’t register. “But you asked what to do with what I said.”
“I’ve never had a woman declare her love for me in front of a crowd. It was . . . life altering.”
He came closer. The earthy smell of him enveloped her as he placed his hands on her hips. “I shouldn’t have compared you to her. You’re nothing like her.”
Nicola stared up into his deep dark eyes. The reality of the situation finally bursting through her. Disbelief and happiness scattered and sank into every cell of her body until joy clouded her senses. Still, she tried to focus. She had to get this right. “I can’t promise to never close
up. I’ve done that for thirty years, but I promise I’ll try to let you in when I want to retreat. You have to promise to remember that when I get like that it’s not because I don’t love you.”
His hands tightened on her hips. “I promise to try. You’ve got to talk to me, okay.” She nodded. “And I’m sorry for shutting down. I won’t do that again. I said I’d be there for you, and that’s what I’m going to do. If you’re ready to give me another chance?”
“That depends,” she said. Her breath hitching at the nearness of him. The longing deep in her midsection.
“On what?” his forehead dropped to hers.
“On how well you kiss me.”
His grin hung the moon in her sky. “Challenge accepted.” He kissed her, and thoughts of not giving Damien another chance flew right out of her head.
Chapter 36
“Nicola, thank you for agreeing to the follow up on our Living Your Dreams series.”
Audience applause accompanied Cassandra Duncan’s enthusiastic greeting. The bright lights shining on Nicola in the studio for Your Morning Wake-Up Call’s show were just as hot as they’d been the last time. Cassandra and Tom’s bright smiles almost as blinding.
“Thank you for having me back.”
“Were you surprised so many people asked for a follow up to your story?” Tom asked.
Nicola thought back to how hard she’d tried to pretend people would lose interest and smiled. “I did. I didn’t believe your viewers wanted to hear more about my plans.”
“Well,” Cassandra said. “You have quite an update. You’ve done a lot in the nine months since we last spoke to you. Do you mind if we take a look?”
“Go ahead.”
Nicola had prepared herself for this. The video flashback of all her antics over the past few months. There it was, the disastrous date with Bobby. Her awkward dancing at an L.A. night club with Quinn. The videos of her feeding the tiger cub and doing magic with her grandfather. There were also the interviews with her pottery classmates, and their not so great artwork. The plunge in the river and Damien’s swift rescue of her. The video ended with her laughing with Quinn and Shonda in Cancun before segueing into the massive launch party for Desiree’s perfume. Not one second of the fight with Quinn.
“Wow!” Cassandra clapped with the audience after the clip ended. “You really did pack a lot into a few months.”
“When I view it like that, it’s hard to believe I did all of that.” Nicola was surprised to see how amazing they made the last several months of her life look. She remembered every single moment of pain, insecurity, and joy. To see it all together made her appreciate getting through.
“And your work didn’t suffer,” Tom said. “I mean, Desiree’s perfume was the hottest debut of the season. It sold out immediately and is already on back order. I think you clearly made the case that you can be dedicated to your work and also be successful.”
“You could say that, but I’ll admit it wasn’t always easy. I don’t think I’ll cram as much in so few months in the future.”
Cassandra crossed her legs and leaned forward. “What did you learn from this experience? What would you tell our viewers who may still be afraid to step out and do the things they’re afraid to try?”
Nicola took a moment to consider the question. She thought back to that speech she’d given at the luncheon when she’d met Damien. The practiced speech that didn’t have any of her truth in it. “I’d tell them that it’s hard. I opened myself up to things I always believed would distract me from my goals or topple me from the pedestal I’d set myself on. Instead, I gained so much more. I grew closer with my family, I fell in love, I found success, but I could have just as easily not had those things. I won’t paint a false picture that doing everything you want to do will magically make your life better.”
Tom’s head tilted to the side. “What will it do?”
“It will teach you more about yourself. What you can handle. What you want to handle. What you don’t want to handle. You may lose, I almost had some losses. I would have lost a lot more if I hadn’t been honest with myself and chosen to do things that were uncomfortable.”
“Would you do it all again?” Tom asked.
“Maybe not all of that,” Nicola said laughing. “But I will continue to make time for the people and things that matter in my life. That’s what I really learned. To open up and let other people help you, love you, and support you. That’s the greatest gift of all.”
A READING GROUP GUIDE
THE ESSENCE OF PERFECTION
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The suggested questions are included to enhance your group’s reading of Nita Brooks’s The Essence of Perfection!
Discussion Questions
1. What was your first impression of Nicola and her position at Queen Couture?
2. Did you think Nicola’s family put pressure on her to be perfect, or was she the only source?
3. What is something from your past you would go back and change if given the chance?
4. Do you agree with Nicola’s decision to go along with filming her tackling the items on her list?
5. What were your thoughts on Nicola’s relationship with Quinn?
6. Nicola was upset about Quinn’s growing friendship with Shonda. Do you agree with her being upset? Why or why not?
7. How did you feel about Nicola’s romance with Damien? Do you think they’ll last? Why or why not?
8. Nicola never thought she belonged in the world of fashion and cosmetics, despite proof of her abilities. Have you ever dealt with feelings of not being as good as people say you are?
9. What did you think when Nicola checked Quinn’s phone during their vacation? Was Quinn’s reaction too strong?
10. Nicola and Quinn eventually had to work together. What were your thoughts on their collaboration at the end?
DON’T MISS
Redesigning Happiness
Witty, sharply-observed, and warmly wise, Nita Brooks’s debut novel tells the heartfelt story of a suddenly successful single mother who finds her perfectly-designed, fame-bound life upended by a surprise from the past . . .
Chapter 1
The Power of Perfection.
Yvonne Cable stared at the headline and grinned. The glowing feature on her latest design made her want to do cartwheels down the hall in her office. If only she’d mastered the art of a cartwheel.
The picture below the headline was of the completed home office for her latest client. Muted blue-grey colors created a cozy and restful feel. The natural light from the picture window overlooking the home’s intricate landscape brightened the room. A mixture of textures—cotton, leather, and wood—added depth and visual interest.
After clawing her way through Atlanta’s cutthroat interior design community, the article in Atlanta Life Magazine was the coveted crown after a hard-fought battle. She created perfection for her clients. Gave them the spaces they needed to be comfortable and content, a haven in their hectic lives. Money, family, status . . . she didn’t care. Whatever her clients needed, she was going to give them.
She put the magazine on her desk and walked over to the perfectly organized whiteboard in her downtown Atlanta office. Nine sections partitioned off. The title of her projects in blue at the top of each section. Tasks associated with each project in green. Due dates written in purple. Red checkmarks for completed tasks. The board served as a quick reference guide to where she was and what she needed to do next.
Her grin widened as she a grabbed the green dry erase marker to add the title for a new project to the ninth box. Sandra Covington Project. Or, as her assistant Bree liked to call it, the super enviable commission of every designer in Atlanta. The people who’d vied for Sandra’s new home project were many, but Yvonne was the one to land it.
Sandra Covington, self-help author turned radio personality, had just announced that her radio program was going into nationwide syndication. Yvonne was familiar with Sandra’s radio show. The woman’s
advice was quoted everywhere. Known for going deep into her readers’ and clients’ pasts to help them unlock the “key to their potential,” her famously quoted words, Sandra kept her own personal life out of the spotlight. Yvonne didn’t care about Sandra’s past, all she cared about was that she’d gotten the project. Designing Sandra’s house, and possibly getting a shout-out on her show, combined with the notoriety she’d gotten from her appearance on Celebrity Housewives, would go a long way toward increasing the demand for an original Yvonne Cable Design when someone needed decorating for their home or business.
She’d arrived. Shed the mistakes of the past and become a household name. Her mom still couldn’t believe it. On most days, Yvonne couldn’t believe it either.
“Yvonne, I got the fabric swatches you needed for the Tyson project, and don’t forget that you’ve got a call with the editor of Lady Entrepreneur magazine in fifteen minutes.”
Bree Foster, Yvonne’s administrative assistant, swept into Yvonne’s office with an arm full of fabric. She laid the material on the drafting table in the creative corner of Yvonne’s office. Vision boards for projects adorned the walls in that corner. Sketch pads, colored pencils, and drawing notebooks littered the drafting table where Yvonne created her designs. Bree continually purchased organizers to keep Yvonne’s samples in order, but when Yvonne was in the middle of the creative process, materials scattered the desk. As usual, Bree picked up the strewn color charts, pencils, post-its, and papers and put them back into their correct spots.
“Crap, I completely forgot about that call.” Yvonne hurried over to her desk, in the working corner of her office. Lady Entrepreneur magazine wanted to start a lifestyle section which would include design tips. Yvonne wanted to be the person who supplied the articles.