by Francis Ray
You can do this, honey. Standing back and letting her hit wall after wall was killing him. He wanted to step in, help her. Catherine had convinced him that he couldn’t. This time Dianne had to solve her own problems.
If either of them stepped in, she’d continue to think she didn’t have it in her to succeed on her own.
And when she did succeed, where would that leave them as a couple? She cared about him, but was it the strong, everlasting kind of love that would bind them together forever? Once the design firm was doing well and she knew she had what it took to be successful, would she be content to stay with him?
She hadn’t seemed to mind staying at home with him, but he was unsure if it was due to her not wanting to face people or because she really enjoyed being with him. He wasn’t sure how he’d handle her leaving him.
He’d just have to have faith that she was with him because she wanted to be. Only time would tell if he was right.
* * *
“I came to a decision about D and A last night,” Dianne said and watched as Alex’s shoulders tensed beneath the white shirt.
“Yes?”
He’d always been so patient with her. So understanding. “I’m going to try to schedule a press conference this afternoon.”
Alex put down his coffee mug and stared across the breakfast table at Dianne. “You haven’t wanted to speak with them before.”
“Just the thought makes my stomach knot,” she admitted.
“Then why now?” he asked.
She clasped her hands on top of the table, her breakfast forgotten. “I need to get the attention of buyers and stores. They aren’t interested in our designs, but they might be interested in my thoughts on being fired.”
His eyes narrowed with worry. “It won’t be easy. Some of the questions will be deliberately cruel to be more sensational.”
“It can’t be helped.” Her hands unclenched. “This interview can give us the kind of exposure D and A needs to get the word out about our company.”
Getting up, he came around the table, knelt, and took her trembling hands. “But at what cost?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She stared down into his dark eyes. “It would help if you were there. I know you’re busy.”
He didn’t hesitate. “What time?”
“Can you be free about two or three?”
“I’ll be there,” he told her. “I’ll see if Catherine and Luke can make it.”
“Thank you.” She was used to interviews, but it had always been about the company; this time it would be personal. The hurt had dulled, but the thought was still there that she hadn’t been good enough.
Pushing to his feet, he kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you at the press conference. If you need anything or just want to talk strategy, don’t hesitate to call.”
She nodded. “I won’t.”
Brushing his hand across her hair, he walked from the room. Dianne didn’t move until she heard the front door close. Getting up, she cleaned up the kitchen.
She wasn’t sure if she was putting off the calls or not. She didn’t like the spotlight shining on her personal life. Perhaps because it had never been good. Her mother in no way had ever been shy about talking about her weight in public. She’d associated her weight with not measuring up to her mother’s standards.
And despite everything, as Catherine had said, Dianne still wanted her parents’, especially her beautiful mother’s, approval. The kitchen spotless, she phoned Greg at the studio.
“D and A of New York.”
Just hearing the company’s name bolstered her resolve. “Good morning, Greg.”
“I hope you’re calling with good news,” he said. “I’m almost finished with the rest of the designs.”
“Hopefully. Can you round up seven models and have them there by two this afternoon for a press conference?”
“Probably, but why would the press want to cover D and A?”
“Because they also get the opportunity to question the fired spokeswoman for Harrington.”
He whistled. “You know it could get ugly?”
“If it happens, it happens, but D and A will also get press,” she said.
“You know what?”
He was probably going to tell her that she was crazy. “What?”
“I thought you’d bail and when you did, I wouldn’t have to worry about the contract I signed.”
Dianne couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice when she replied, “You don’t think very much of me.”
“My opinion changed a few days after we started working together,” he told her. “You worked shoulder-to-shoulder with me, never complained about the long hours or stiff muscles. I’m proud to be on your team. Your grandfather would be proud.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Thank you.”
“You get those reporters here, and I’ll have the models dressed and ready to strut.”
“Thank you. Bye.” Dianne hung up, took a deep breath and dialed. Luckily, she remembered the number because she often had to call back to do phone interviews.
“Peter Lovett, Couture Fashion magazine.”
“Hi, Peter. It’s Dianne Harrington.”
“Dianne, what’s the story with your being fired?” he asked without preamble.
“Peter, if you want the whole story be at my studio at two this afternoon.” She gave him the address.
“Talk now. I might not be able to make it.”
“I’m talking at two. If you can’t make it, I’m sure other media will be there. Good-bye, Peter.”
Dianne pushed in the next number and ignored the beeps indicating she had a call. Peter would be there. He was too competitive not to be.
“Howard Cruise.”
“Hi, Howard, it’s Dianne Harrington.” Howard was a freelance writer.
“Hey, babe. Heard you were put out to pasture. Any comments?”
Howard was also rude, but he had written for several high-fashion magazines and had a blog followed by industry insiders. “You can hear every juicy detail if you come to my studio this afternoon at two for my press conference.” She gave him the address. “Bring your cameraman. Good-bye.”
Disconnecting the call, Dianne went through her media list, ignoring the incoming calls. A bit of secrecy would titillate them and get them there. A couple of hours later she stared at one last number, took a breath, and dialed.
“Fashion Insider.”
“Cicely St. John. Dianne Harrington calling.”
“I’ll see if she’s available.”
Her stomach fluttering, Dianne stood. Cicely was busy, but she was also well respected.
“Hello, Dianne, and the answer is the same.”
Since Cicely didn’t waste time, neither would Dianne. She quickly told her about the scheduled press conference. “Women’s shapes are changing and they deserve to see themselves in fashionable clothes and in magazines.”
“That may be, but the majority of my readers want thin. They demand it, and I give them what they want.”
Dianne hadn’t expected it to be easy. “You’ve always been an innovator and on the cusp. Just come and look at the line. I need you there.”
There was a slight pause. “You know the magazine runs three to five months out.”
“I also know you post weekly on your blog of what’s hot.”
“Your clothes might not make the cut,” Cicely said. “I might hate your designs.”
“You won’t,” Dianne said with confidence.
“I’ll come if I can. We’re looking over the photographs for the next issue,” Cicely said.
“Thank you. I hope to see you this afternoon. Bye.” Her heart thumping, Dianne hung up. Cicely wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t hesitate to speak her mind. D&A had to be ready to deliver the goods when they showed up.
Chapter 14
Alex arrived with Luke and Catherine at half past one. He had forced himself not to come any earlier. This was Dianne’s show. Opening the door to the design studio, he was disa
ppointed not to see anyone in the twenty or so chairs in the front area. Over a long table by the door was an eighteen-by-twenty-one photo of him, Dianne, and Greg the day the first design was completed.
“Where’s Dianne?” Catherine asked.
Closing the door, Alex glanced around for her. “I don’t know.”
The words had barely left his mouth when she came out of the back room with a small box in her hands. Greg was behind her with bottles of water.
“Hi. You’re early.”
She looked beautiful and scared in a fitted yellow sheath that showed her gorgeous legs and toned arms. Boswell was dumber than dirt. “We didn’t want to miss anything.” He saw fear flash across her beautiful face; then it was gone. That’s my girl.
“Hi, Catherine, Luke,” Dianne greeted. “You’re just in time to help. Greg thought of Pellegrino with a little tag for D and A, and a media release to be handed out when the press conference is over.”
“I knew I was smart to hire you.” Alex took the box containing the press release from Dianne.
“Damn straight, and I want a raise when we start working overtime to fill all the orders we’re going to have flowing in once word gets out.” Greg placed the water on the table.
“You got it.” Alex wouldn’t even quibble when the time came. Clearly he was in Dianne’s corner.
“What can we do to help?” Catherine asked. “Luke is excellent at security.”
Greg looked at Luke’s six-foot-four frame, his muscular shoulders. “I think a better use would be for him to escort the women models into the room.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed. Catherine smothered a laugh. “I don’t think so,” he said very slowly.
“I’ll do it,” Alex said. “Dianne, where are you going to stand?”
“Anywhere up front should work,” Dianne said. “The room isn’t that large so I shouldn’t have any problems hearing questions or them hearing my answer.”
“If they do, use a technique my audience loves. Walk down the aisle, repeat the question, and then answer.” Catherine glanced at the seating arrangement. “We can move the rows farther apart so it will be easier getting in and out.”
“I’m on it.” Luke began rearranging the chairs. Everyone pitched in.
“Catherine, we can do this,” Dianne protested, picking up a chair.
“So can I.” Catherine placed a chair beside Luke’s.
“She’s stubborn, but sturdy.” Luke grinned and picked up two more chairs.
In a matter of minutes, the chairs were rearranged. Dianne stared at the door. “I feel like I’m waiting for the doors to open for an after-Christmas sale.”
“And they always do.” Alex curved his arms around her waist.
The door opened and Peter Lovett entered. Beside him, looking annoyed, was Howard Cruise with a cameraman.
“You’re on.” Releasing her, Alex stepped back. Giving him a smile, Dianne went to meet the men.
“I’ll go check on the models.” Greg took off.
Through the door came more people. “I don’t think she needs it, but I’ll go help her get folks seated,” Catherine said and walked away.
“Man, I love that woman,” Luke murmured.
Alex wasn’t surprised by Luke’s impassioned statement. “She loves you just as much.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Luke said. “She’s my life. The reason I breathe.”
“If asked, she’d say the same thing about you.” Alex stared at Dianne. “But it almost didn’t happen.”
Luke folded his arms, his intent gaze on his wife, who was charming everyone she spoke with. “I don’t like to even think about the time when she ran from me. Your sister can be stubborn, but I had a backup plan.”
Alex turned to Luke. “Because she loved you. How did you know when she loved you?”
Luke finally turned his attention to Alex, then clasped his shoulder. “A lot of things, but what cinched it for me was the way I felt when Catherine looked at me, as if I was her entire world.” He glanced at Dianne leading two women to seats. “Listen to your heart and not your fears and you’ll know.”
“Loving a woman is scary as hell,” Alex admitted.
“And when that love is returned, there is no better feeling in the world.” Luke glanced over Alex’s shoulder and caught Catherine’s imploring gaze. “I think we’re needed to get people in their seats. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Dianne. You decided what you’re going to do with the information I gave you on Boswell?”
Alex’s hands clenched. “There’s a good chance if the information is known, he’ll be fired. There’s a pretty good chance that when that does happen, the board will also try to get Dianne back.”
Luke placed his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Yeah, but since I know you, I already know what you’re going to do.”
“Dianne’s happiness will always come first.”
“Dianne has proven she’s stronger than any of us thought.” With a squeeze of his hand, Luke walked away.
Alex slowly followed. His brother-in-law was smart, and as an ex-FBI agent, he read people well. Alex just hoped he had a chance to experience what Luke and Catherine shared. Once what he knew got out, he could very well lose Dianne forever.
* * *
“Thank you for coming,” Dianne said, her smile firmly in place. Cicely hadn’t come, but others were there. Only two empty seats remained. Alex, Catherine, and Luke were in the front row. Greg stood by the door to the room where the models waited.
“You said you’d talk about being fired,” a female reporter for a newspaper blurted out.
“Yeah, what’s the nitty-gritty?” Howard Cruise interjected.
“How—”
“Please be patient,” Dianne said, cutting Peter Lovett off. “I’ll answer all of your questions if you’ll just give me a moment.”
“Make it quick,” Peter said impatiently, glancing at his watch.
Alex came to his feet an instant before Luke. “I believe Ms. Harrington asked you to be patient. If you find you can’t comply, I’m sure she’ll understand if you have to leave.”
A snicker came from the back row. A camera flashed. Peter’s mouth flattered into an angry line. His eyes promised retribution.
“Now, that’s what I call bodyguards,” a woman whispered.
“They could guard my body anytime.”
Dianne kept the smile on her face although she wanted to glare at the two women. Catherine had no such restraint.
“Thank you for staying,” Alex said smoothly. “You’re here because Ms. Harrington values you.” Alex took his seat, as did Luke.
Peter sat up a bit straighter. Hopefully Alex’s words had appeased him and soothed his wounded pride. Her lawyer was in top form.
“Harrington House was my life until six weeks ago. My identity, my self-worth was tied to Harrington as ‘The Face.’ It was who I was. I was recognized in the industry, on the A list, I had a good life that I thought would continue.
“I walked into a board meeting with CEO Theo Boswell and my parents fully expecting my life to go on as it had since I was eighteen and launched the D line. I was wrong.” She blinked a couple of times, but kept her chin up.
“Instead of a paycheck I was handed a letter of termination by the secretary of the new CEO of Harrington House, a company my late grandfather had founded. Mr. Boswell informed me that I was too fat and too old to continue as The Face. Even though the D line remained profitable, he thought without me it would do better.” She swallowed.
“I was shattered. Perhaps more so because my parents agreed with him.” Her arms circled her waist. “They wanted what was best for a company that hires hundreds of people, and while I understood their reasoning, it hurt.”
The only sound in the room was the click of cameras.
“I walked out of that meeting with little money and a mangled self-esteem. I didn’t even have a place to live, because my apartment belonged t
o Harrington House. One man stepped in to help me, gave me time to move on, and when I didn’t, gave me a fast reality check.” She sent Alex a special smile.
“Alex Stewart helped me learn to be my own woman, learn that I have value. I might be fat to some people, but Alex thinks I’m pretty hot.”
Alex shot to his feet, pumping his fist. “Yeah!”
Smiling, Dianne blew him a kiss. “Since being fired, I’ve taken a hard look both at my life and at fashion. Both need some adjustments. I love clothes, getting dressed up, looking pretty and desirable. However, for some women, that is a challenge. I want to change that. Alex?”
Alex disappeared into the room with the models. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you designs by D and A of New York.”
One by one, Alex stepped into the room with full-figured models wearing one of their designs. After advancing several feet, he’d return to the room for the next model until all seven were on the floor, looking fabulous and sassy in four-inch heels.
“Two of the models are size eighteen, two size twenty, and three size twenty-two,” Dianne told the media as an excited buzz ran through the room. “Alex. Greg. Please join me.”
Both men flanked her. She hooked her arms through theirs. “To my right is Alex Stewart, a renowned lawyer, my partner, and my personal ace in the hole. On my right is Greg Dickerson, a man many of you know and respect as a fashion design genius. With Alex’s backing and Greg’s talent, we were able to create D and A of New York, a company that will, as you see, create stylish, carefree fashions for full-figured women, who deserve to look good and not have to search all over town for beautiful clothes.”
“I get that the D and A stands for your and Mr. Stewart’s first names. Is that the only input you had?” Catherine asked.
“No,” Dianne answered, smiling her thanks to Catherine. After Alex had shut down Peter earlier, others might be cautious in asking a question. “Greg and I are the design team. He makes my ideas better. We tend to feed off each other’s energy and ideas.”
“Who are the buyers?” asked Peter.
“When will the line launch?” Howard wanted to know.
Dianne pulled her arms free and clasped her hands. “Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to interest any buyers or stores that feel as we do.” She lifted her hand toward the seven models standing on either side of the media.