Designing Woman (The Sloan Brothers Book 2)

by Willow, Jo

  I felt activity behind me and someone in a well tailored, big name suit took the stage. Her hair was perfect a la Audrey Hepburn, and her makeup was perfect. She began by announcing that the show was about to begin and she thanked everyone for attending. She gave special thanks to the “who’s who” in the audience, making sure to mention my mother who smiled and nodded her head like true royalty in the fashion industry. I could be sending my models out in various colored paper bags and my mother would still gush as if I was the next up and coming Versace. My mom was a well of support where her girls were concerned.

  First up was a newcomer that had generated some buzz back in the Spring, but had been laying low since. I’d met her once or twice at various functions, but she still didn’t stand out yet. Her designs took the stage and I had to give her credit. A few were noteworthy and I smiled at her. She looked relieved. Odd that. I was slowly becoming respected, but I was no one to pass judgement on anyone else. Not yet anyway. Sean whispered in my ear, “Where did she find those models, the Pound?” I choked and elbowed him in the ribs.

  Another group of five took the stage and we were up next. We lined them up, checking hems, collars, and accessories, and finished just in time for our cue.

  The first one strutted an example of our daytime office ideas. A simple silk blend trouser ensemble in navy blue with a fine gray pinstripe. The jacket that matched was cropped, tucked at the waist and had a wide lapel. The blouse beneath was a silk dove gray and showed a scant amount of cleavage. It moved beautifully on Cameron when she walked and the applause showed approval. So far so good. The next was our “Night on The Town” number, and was our version of the backless Little Black Dress. Once again, approval and a few “ahhs”. Two more models took the stage to applause, each design sparking more and more interest. The final model came up and this was the one. We saved the best for last. If it fell flat, we’d be talked about alright, but it would be the kind of talk that would make us glad we’d discussed a fashion line for babies.

  Chantel was tall, blonde and cool. Her eyes were ice blue and that’s why we went with the indigo blue watered silk. Sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline, she had the bust to pull it off. In a retro maneuver, we put her in elbow length indigo blue gloves and a sapphire and diamond pendant that my folks had given me as a graduation gift. It cinched at her waist and fell in an a-line skirt. The kicker was the silver embroidery along the bust and at the hem. Just a tiny line of swirls that looked like ocean waves rolling along, but Sean had worked hard on it and it made the dress pop. The back was laced from the waist like a corset, the laces were thin silver cords. The crowd went crazy. People were on their feet the minute she took the runway. Flashbulbs went off and the sound was deafening. Critics and fellow designers were taking notes on steno pads. People, we had arrived.

  Sean and I high-fived and did a happy dance, wondering how we’d ever top that one. That’s what you think about when you put your ass on the line doing anything creative. It doesn’t matter if you’re designing, writing, painting, or playing music. You’re always thinking one step ahead and dreading the next speed bump. You battle your own mind constantly. Today though, we would celebrate. The next show wasn’t until the Spring.

  We took our bows at the end of the show and accepted our glasses of champagne for a job well done. The other designers were flocking around Sean, trying to poach him for his embroidery design, so I snuck away into the audience.

  My mother wrapped me in a hug and whispered her praise. That never got old. This time, I could tell it was genuine. She loved the dress so I offered it to her as my gift. I could think of no other person I would want wearing that one of a kind. She would look magnificent in it. She had tears in her eyes when she accepted it. I’d made my mother proud and now she was speechless. My job here was done.

  My sister hugged me and congratulated me, followed by Deacon who asked about the office suit which surprised me. Dorothy had taken an interest in it and he wanted to surprise her with something nice for after the baby was born. I could see her in it so I told him I’d send it over after I had it cleaned. He beamed at me and kissed my cheek. High praise coming from my brother-in-law.

  Pierce surprised me the most. He picked me up and swung me around in a tight embrace, then kissed my cheek.

  “Your designs were amazing. The three of you do unbelievable work and I’m proud to know you Mel’.”

  I grinned up at him in an, “ah shucks” way, and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

  “Careful Teddy Bear or I’ll think you like me.”

  He winked and grinned back.

  “By the way, where did you store Ayla?”

  He straightened his tie and glanced around. That was more like the Pierce I knew.

  “She’s at home with Chase and Austin. Chase is leaving to go home tomorrow, but he’ll back after the holidays. Sooner if things heat up. He always spends holidays with his family. He mentioned something about taking a leave of absence until this problem is wrapped up, but we’ll see what happens.”

  I nodded in understanding.

  “You should call her and congratulate her on her success. None of this would have been possible without her or Sean.”

  He smiled and kissed my hand.

  “Even when you’re a pain in the ass, your heart’s in the right place Melody. That’s why you’re a perfect addition to our family.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong Slick. You guys are an addition to OUR family.”

  “That’ll change when Anton gets a clue.”

  I was shaking my head adamantly.

  “Nope. We had a brief discussion on that subject and I set him to rights. He thinks we’ll keep the current arrangement as is and I informed him that I’ll be settling down eventually. I don’t think he liked that very much because he hasn’t spoken to me since.”

  I nodded my head once in his direction.

  “He even brought a date to my big day. That speaks volumes in Anton speak.”

  I saw something in Pierce’s eyes that I hate to see in anyone’s when they look at me. Pity. There was possibly a little sympathy there, but mostly it was pity. Before he could start the “let’s dis Anton” speech, I set him straight.

  “Pierce, he has every right to feel the way he does. I won’t knock him for that. We’re reading from different books and that’s okay. I’ve ditched guys for getting too serious too fast, so I know where he’s coming from. He’ll get there eventually and for his sake, I hope he finds the right girl when he does. I’m thinking I’ll be off the market by the time that happens and that’s just a matter of timing. Cut him some slack.”

  Pierce gave me a brief hug and rubbed my back.

  “You’re too good for him Mel’. I’m afraid he’s gonna figure out what he had after he’s lost it.”

  “That’s the way life is Teddy. Some people are always looking for something better when they’ve got the best in the palm of their hands. Sad but true.”

  I pulled away and gave him a genuine smile. No melodramas today folks. I was the talk of the town and I was gonna bask a little.

  Anton was watching me, I could feel it. When I looked over at him, he looked wary and maybe a little nervous. His arm was around his date, his hand resting on her waist. I saw him clench a little tighter at my approach.

  “Hi Anton, glad you could make it. Solidarity and all that. What did you think?”

  He relaxed but looked confused. It was my favorite look on him.

  “I haven’t been to very many of these, but I was surprised. You stole the show Mel’. Congratulations.”

  I sipped my champagne and smiled.

  “Thank-you. We weren’t sure until the crowd reacted, but we’re hopeful for a positive response to our Spring line now. Who’s your friend?”

  The stunning redhead looked at me as if she were in awe. Good start. It’s hard to hate someone that’s looking at you as if you’d cured cancer.

  Anton cleared his throat, getting ready for trou
ble that was not going to materialize. I was done passing judgement and playing games. Something clicked when I was talking to Pierce and I realized I’d meant every word I’d said.

  “Janet, this is Melody Lincoln. Her sister is married to my brother Deacon. Melody, Janet Bridges. She writes for Fashion Magazine.”

  Holy shit. Fashion Magazine? I was pretty sure Janet would be my new best friend. If I had to use duct tape and rope to make that happen.

  I extended my hand and she took it like a life line.

  “Ms. Lincoln, it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve been following your work since you introduced the pearl satin number two winters ago. Tonight’s Indigo Dream blew me away.”

  Kissing my ass was always a nice start to a perfect relationship.

  “Janet, please call me Mel’, all of my friends do. I’m glad you liked it. Sean’s embroidery work is always exquisite and when he suggested it for this dress, I had a feeling it would be well received. My mother, Catherine Jacoby-Lincoln will be wearing the dress from now on. I presented it as a gift a few minutes ago.”

  And cue the doe eyes. Of course she’d heard of my mother. The only people that hadn’t, were either cave dwellers or island refugees. If you were anywhere near fashion, you knew who Catherine Jacoby-Lincoln was.

  “She was made to wear that dress! Mel’, would it be too much to ask for an interview sometime? I realize you’re busy, but the magazine would love to run a feature on you if that’s possible.”

  A feature in Fashion Magazine? Here comes Santa Claus my friends. We were about to hit the big time.

  “Absolutely. Let me give you my personal number. If you contact me after the holidays, you can come to my home office and meet Sean and Ayla, my assistants. We can show you how we make things happen and answer any questions you might have.”

  Bless her. She hopped up and down. I had my first fashion minion.

  She thrust her cell phone in my hand and I programmed my number into her contact list before handing it back.

  “There you go.”

  “This means the world to me Mel’, you have no idea. This will be a real coup for the magazine. You’re the rising star in fashion. Everyone knows that.”

  I felt myself blush and I smiled at her.

  “I don’t know about that, but it’s nice of you to say so. Thanks for coming and I’ll look forward to your call.”

  Then I looked up at Anton who had remained silent during our exchange.

  “Close your mouth Anton, you look like a Gomer. Thanks for inviting Janet and I’ll see you over the holidays. We’re all going over the river and through the woods to the farm.”

  His mouth clamped shut and his eyes grew huge from shock. I winked at him and smiled.

  “Don’t worry, you don’t have to get me anything. We’re cool.”

  Janet was still beaming as I walked away in search of Sean.

  I didn’t stay for the after-party, I had too much shit to do. Christmas was two weeks away and I still had presents to wrap and a suitcase to organize. Due to the weather, the plan was to arrive on Christmas Eve and stay until the thirtieth. Everyone wanted to be back in the city for New Year’s Eve, weather permitting. Rural Connecticut isn’t like the city. You make winter plans around the weather. Why in the hell Dor’ wanted to live there I’d never know. I read all about the Donner Party and saw the movie too. Reenactments weren’t my thing. That much snow had a tendency to make me nervous.

  The condo was unusually quiet when I got home. Austin was either with Ayla or at the bar, Sean was partying his ass off (he deserved it), and Ayla was at Pierce’s. It had been a long time since my place was that quiet.

  I put on a pot of coffee and slipped a bottle of wine in the fridge to chill for later. I was starting up the stairs to change clothes, when there was a knock at the door. No one knocked except couriers and delivery people, and security always buzzed me before sending them up. Everyone I knew that mattered, had a key. Unless someone forgot their key. Still, with all the strangeness hanging over us like an ominous cloud, it was no wonder I was paranoid. No wait. Not paranoid, paranoid happens when you’ve nothing to fear. I was cautious and rightfully so. Ayla and I were often joined at the hip, so whatever affected her, would undoubtedly affect me.

  I drew closer to the door and the knock came again, a little harder this time but still not sounding threatening. I peeked through the peephole without saying a word. No need letting the knocker know anyone was home yet. If I was being followed, then a stalker was outside and he definitely didn’t need to know I was home yet. The door had a steel core. There was no way he was kicking that bitch in. While I was standing there, I turned on the security alarm. Seemed like a good idea.

  The man outside my door was big. I was five-seven and I was staring at his neck. This particular neck was massive. The sweater he had on was barely containing his chest, but I had to admit, he had good fashion taste. It looked to be a burgundy cashmere. Whoever was out there had money.

  He took a step back and I got a good look at him. Sweet baby Jesus, it had to be him. His hair was black as a raven’s feather and shaggy. It fell just below his shoulders and he scooped it back with one huge hand. He looked annoyed. His eyes were so dark, they looked black, and if he wasn’t Italian, he was doing a fine impression.

  I will never understand what made do what I did next. There’s a gene in my family that makes you do or say stupid shit unexpectedly. I’m not sure who I inherited it from, but if I ever find out, I’ll bitch slap that sucker.

  With my eyeball still pressed against the peephole, I did my best at sounding unafraid and unimpressed.

  “Tony, I know who you are and I know why you’re here. The whole fucking lot of us do and you’re unwelcome. She had every right to want to get the hell away from you, so go away or I’m calling the cops.”

  There. I told him.

  In a frightening move, he raised two fists that resembled large hams, and pounded them once against the door. So this was the Dom. My first thought was, Teddy Bear needed to go back to Dom school. Then his voice came through, low and menacing.

  “I know she’s not in there bitch, and I know who she’s with. Tell him he’d better not touch her. He’d better not hold her hand, kiss her cheek, or see her naked. She. Is. Mine. She knows it and I know it. She promised me and she will keep that promise.”

  Oh now I was pissed. Who the fuck did he think he was messing with?

  I flung the door open and hit the red button on the security alarm. He’d be surrounded within minutes. He seemed surprised that I was facing him down with my hands on my hips.

  “Listen up Stallone. You don’t scare me, so shut the fuck up and make yourself scarce. The cops will be here shortly and because of where we are, the part of town we’re in, and my last name, it probably won’t take THAT long and there might be fucking artillery involved. You think you’re something? You might be something in Boston asswipe, but you’re nothing here but a woman beating has-been. So get your sorry ass back to where you came from and give up. You don’t fuck with the Lincolns and you definitely don’t fuck with the Sloans. Got it?”

  Holy shit. I even impressed myself.

  Tony looked shocked for all of five seconds. Then he looked pissed. At me. I made the cardinal mistake at that point.

  Let me take a moment to give unasked for advice. Should you ever find yourself in the position of pissing off a giant Dom, do NOT step back through an open door. If he comes in and closes that door, you’re goose is cooked. That’s for future reference. Now back to my story.

  I took a step back because his big ass hands were now up and shaped into claws, his face red and rage filled. I had seconds to bust a move or he was going to. I didn’t think bringing up the Restraining Order and the fact that he was entering her place of business would get me anything but dead. I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances. I was still wearing my favorite stilettos, so I hauled off and kicked him right in the nuts. What was I gonna do? Punch
him? The guy was a boxer! It might have been like a bell and he might have come out swinging. How the hell was I supposed to know? He could’ve been like Pavlov’s dogs, the guy was an insane stalker! Don’t judge me for fighting dirty, at least I was fighting.

  My aim was true and the shoes were pointy. He went down like a sack of potatoes and I couldn’t resist. This is where you can judge me if you must but by this point, I was pissed too. He was at my home! My place of business! So while he was down and incapacitated, I kicked him again. In the face.

  There was no way I didn’t break his nose. Blood started spurting everywhere and the only thing I could think at the time was, “he ruined my damned shoe”. Blood would never come out of dyed satin. This sucked.

  Speaking of which, he started sucking in air and wheezing like a three hundred pound couch potato that had decided to take up marathon running. His eyes were glazed and he made his way to his feet while hunched over. One hand on his nose, one hand cupping himself. It would have been funny had I not been holding my leg while hopping around like an eight year old on a pogo stick. He wasn’t the only one injured.

  He started screaming.

  “I only wanted to tell her that I forgive her! I love her and I want her to come back so that we can talk!”

  “Talk?”, I huffed while hopping, “Is that what they call it now? Funny, asshole. I thought when you made them kneel and flogged the shit out of them, it was called something else.”

  He paused and his eyes narrowed, his blood ruining that beautiful sweater.

  “She told you about that?”