by M. Malone
He cups my cheek gently. “I wonder sometimes how dangerous you would be if you knew your own power. Don’t you know I would give you anything you asked for? Anything at all.”
He growls softly when I bite my lip. “Get out of the car, Casey.”
I look over at him, not surprised to see the same tortured expression on his face that I’m feeling.
“Go on, sweetheart. I need to make sure you’re safely inside.”
With a sigh, I push open the door. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time as I walk away.
But I don’t look back.
15
* * *
I put down the sketch in my hands and stand. How long have I been at this? The clock on the wall shows it’s almost lunchtime. It’s amazing how time moves when you’re trying to distract yourself from something.
Driving away from Casey’s building last week was difficult. Every part of me wanted to follow her upstairs, see where she lives, sleep with her in her bed.
Despite how many times she’s made it clear that what we shared is over, there’s a certain part of my anatomy that refuses to accept it. I look down at the anatomy in question.
Every man has a unique relationship with his cock. You have to when dealing with something that has a mind of its own. These things lead us around by the nose quite often and mine has been particularly unhappy with my decisions lately.
But then I remember the look on her face when I kissed her forehead. Surprise, yes but also hope. Even though I don’t know her whole story yet, I get the sense that men often let her down.
So no matter how angry a certain part of me has been lately, I’ll continue to give her what she needs. A friend.
Plus, even with an ego like mine, I have to admit that she could have taken things further in the car if she’d wanted to. There was nothing stopping her from leaning over and kissing me like she did that night in the bar. Or unhooking her seatbelt and climbing into my lap.
But she didn’t. The past few days she hasn’t given me any indication that she wants to see me. Hell, she could have called if she was feeling any of the things I am.
Then it hits me. She still doesn’t have my phone number.
I’m actually sitting here moping because she hasn’t called me when I never gave her my number. I have to laugh. My friends would tease me until the end of time if they could see how much Casey throws me off my game.
Voices filter through my closed door pulling me from my thoughts.
“Oh no, please don’t disturb him!”
“It’s no problem. Mr. Lavin made it clear that marketing is a high priority.”
Who is that Kate is talking to? I check my watch. It’s definitely not time for the board meeting yet. Things have been quiet around the office. Most of our employees, besides the design team we brought with us, are American so they were gone to celebrate Thanksgiving last week. Things have been pretty quiet. It would have been an excellent time to get some work done if I could actually concentrate.
The phone on my desk rings. I hit the button to activate the speaker. “Yes, Kate.”
“Mr. Lavin, a Cassandra Michaels is here to see you from the Mirage Agency.”
It’s a wonder I don’t break the button with how fast I hit it again. “Send her in, Kate. And hold all my other calls.”
A few moments later, the door opens and Casey steps in. Instantly my shitty mood elevates and I don’t bother to hide my pleasure at seeing her again.
“Casey. This is a surprise.”
She thanks Kate over her shoulder before the door closes behind her. Looking around nervously, she hugs the folder she’s carrying to her chest.
“How have you been? Did you have a good holiday?”
She looks puzzled for a moment. “Holiday? Oh right. I didn’t go home for Thanksgiving. My mom is a nurse and she usually volunteers to work that day so the people with families can stay home.”
“Your mother sounds very kind.”
The smile that covers her face is breathtaking. “My mom is the best.” She holds out the folder. “I’m so sorry if I interrupted anything. I tried to tell your assistant that I was only here to drop this off.”
My hand extends for the folder but really it’s an excuse to get close to her again. There’s something about being near her that just makes me happy.
That’s what this is, I realize. This unexpected lightness, this buoyancy every time I see her. It’s happiness. Clearly I didn’t recognize it because it’s been so long.
The folder contains the final markups from the first ad campaign. Jason has been asking for these. He’s worried about the excess costs to change advertising at the last minute, so I asked Mya to finalize at least one ad that we could run at Fashion Week.
It has several panels, each with a model wearing a different outfit from our new line. There’s a square representing the new Bridal division, the existing menswear line and then the first promo image from our new line of underwear.
“Thank you. I’ll get this over to Jason immediately.”
Casey smiles. “Mya might have mentioned that he was asking for it.”
Which means Jason has also been making a nuisance of himself by calling the designers directly. “I’ll have to ask his assistant to tighten his leash. He shouldn’t be allowed to interact with too many people outside of the company.”
Her eyes move around the room, taking in the mannequin in the corner and the board across from my desk where I keep all approved sketches for the next line. It inspires me to see what the rest of my design team has created and then I can design the central piece to complement them.
“Did you draw these?” She points at the board.
“Not all of them. This one is by Cristiane Laveque. She was just promoted this year to Creative Director. She’s been with us since the inception of my menswear line.”
I motion to the right side of the board where a rougher pencil sketch of a slinky evening dress is pinned.
”That’s one of mine. One of the things I’m known for is mixing masculine and feminine elements so I decided to create evening wear for women. That’s one of the reasons I employed Mirage, to help us change our image from a menswear brand, to an everyone brand.”
“Maybe, if you’re okay with it, we could use some sketches like these in some of the advertising.”
“Like this one? It’s just a quick pencil drawing. It’s not even finished.”
“I know! That’s what makes it so cool.” Her hands move as she talks, her excitement evident.
“I’ve never really thought about the whole process of how a design comes to life. But looking at this makes it seem really relatable, somehow. This drawing will then be turned into a pattern and created and then worn. If it’s this interesting to me then I’m sure other people want to see it, too. People love behind the scenes stuff.”
“Well, if you want to see what’s really behind the scenes, I can show you around. You can actually see some of the junior designers at work creating sample pieces.”
“Really. Right now?”
I laugh at her excitement. She’s like a little kid with a new toy. “Of course. I have time if you don’t need to get back.”
She pulls out her phone. “I’m sure Mya won’t mind. This is research after all.”
Looking at her phone, I chuckle.
“What?”
“Just that after all that’s happened, I still don’t have your number.”
She looks startled and then her cheeks redden. “Yeah, I guess we were a little busy that night. Here, put your number in before I call Mya.”
As I type the digits in to a new contact on her phone, it feels like a small victory.
We spend the next hour walking through the design floor. Casey is interested in everything and stops frequently to compliment the designers on their work. Every time she does, I can see their chests puff up with pride. In just a quick tour, Casey has probably done more to fix company morale than anything my HR team has
come up with.
Maybe Lavin Couture should try to hire her.
She tugs at my sleeve. “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything. I’m sure you didn’t mean to spend this much time showing me around.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t have time. There’s a board meeting soon so I was going to have to stop what I was doing anyway.”
She frowns. “The stinky board that doesn’t like recycling, you mean.”
I smile at her description. Most of the members are old friends of my mother’s and CEOs of other mega brands. Most are older and extremely conservative. It’s not always easy to get approval for ideas that are new or different. But I’m used to dealing with the hassle. It’s just part of my job.
When we turn the corner, I see Jason standing near the door with one of the members of the board.
“And this is our cue to get out of here.” At her curious look, I motion discreetly with my head toward the door. “Jason is talking to one of the board members right now.”
Casey’s head swivels that way and then she gets a determined look in her eyes. Before I can process that, she’s started walking.
“Jason, what a nice surprise! I didn’t expect to see you today.” Casey approaches Jason with an outstretched hand and a huge smile.
He looks startled, as am I, since I know they’ve only been introduced once. Her greeting makes it seem like they’re good friends who chat all the time. He shakes her hand and then glances over at me with a What the fuck? expression but I just shrug. I have no idea what Casey is up to but I definitely want to find out.
“Nice to see you too, Miss Michaels.”
Casey stares expectantly at the man next to him, and in the intervening silence it becomes clear she’s waiting to be introduced.
“And this is Paul Nussbaum,” Jason stammers finally. “There’s a board of directors meeting today. Which means that we should probably head on–”
“Oh, you’re on the board? How wonderful! Have you seen these samples yet?” Casey interrupts, linking her arm with Paul’s and walking back toward the design floor.
He looks alarmed but there’s not much he can do unless he wants to plant his feet and make her drag him. Casey starts pointing out various things to him and before long Paul is nodding and chuckling along with her.
“Well, I’ll be damned. She’s charmed that old goat, too.” Jason moves next to me, shaking his head as we follow behind.
“Don’t start, Jason. She’s a nice person.”
“I didn’t say she wasn’t. I’ll admit I was initially inclined not to like her after watching you self-destruct for months. But I can’t hold that against her. It’s not her fault you’re a sap.”
I ignore that last comment as we come to where Casey and Paul are watching one of the designers at work. We approach in time to hear the tail end of what she’s saying.
“Look at this beautiful fabric. It hurts to see so much of it just land on the floor. But that’s okay. I’m sure it’s being recycled in some way. Actually thank you for reminding me, Paul. I meant to ask about Lavin Couture’s green initiatives. We need to highlight that in our campaign.”
Paul looks back at us in confusion. “Green initiatives?”
“Oh yes, it’s so important to be environmentally friendly these days. People are tired of large companies that take from Mother Earth but don’t protect her. All it takes is one person mentioning it on Twitter and the next thing you know your company’s name is trending for all the wrong reasons. But I always pick up quite a few stocks on sale when that happens so that’s a plus.”
Paul pales slightly. “Stocks on sale?”
Casey shrugs. “When that happens, the stock price of the company in question usually nosedives. So I think of it like a sale.”
He looks like he’s going to be sick. “There have been some initiatives brought to the board’s attention. They were just concerned about our fabric being used for inferior quality products. We don’t want just anyone having Lavin quality goods.”
Casey squeezes his arm conspiratorially. “Well, it’s not like the fabric is what makes Lavin clothes so special. I’m sure other brands source fabric from the same places you do. What makes Lavin clothes so special is because they’re designed by Andre, of course.”
“And his fabulous team.” She adds the last part in a loud voice that has several of the designers nearby grinning.
Paul is nodding along to every word she’s saying now. “Green initiatives really are so important, aren’t they? You know, the other board members can be a little slow to move with the times.”
Casey pats his arm. “I’m sure you can convince them to do what’s right. They’ll listen to you, won’t they?”
Paul beams. “Well, I am the Chairman.”
As they walk away, I can hear Casey’s laughter. “I knew it. I could tell when I met you that you were a man of action.”
Jason leans over. “Holy shit, did she just get your recycling plan on the board agenda? The woman is more dangerous than I thought.”
16
* * *
I splash water on my face and pat my skin dry with a paper towel. Talking for so long left my voice creaky and has given me a slight headache. Being the center of attention isn’t my favorite thing but when Andre told me a board member was here, I knew this was a chance I wouldn’t get again.
Paul actually turned out to be a nice man. A little stodgy and more moved by stock prices than people, but not a complete monster the way I’d imagined the board members must be. I mean, really? Who is against recycling? I figured most of them just hadn’t thought about all of the positive sides to doing it.
I only wish I could have spent more time watching how Andre’s company works but he had to get to his board meeting. And I’ve already been gone longer than I expected.
The door swings open behind me. An older woman enters and places her handbag on the counter next to mine. Her dark hair doesn’t have a single strand of gray and her forehead is unlined. If I had to guess her age I would say she’s one of those women who refuses to age past forty-five.
“So, you’re the young woman causing so much commotion on the design floor today.”
“I suppose I am. Hello.” I’m not sure what she means about commotion but perhaps she’s one of the designers I didn’t get to meet. We did spend more than an hour down there talking to everyone. An unexpected interruption like that is probably a manager’s nightmare.
“I apologize if your designers didn’t get all their work done today. I was just so excited to see how they do it all.”
I move over slightly and turn on the faucet. Hopefully that will keep us from having to blunder through any more polite conversation.
“My son seems to be quite taken with you.”
I shut off the water.
My son. This cold, brittle woman is Andre’s mother?
“It’s not that I don’t understand the allure. I once had a dalliance with the family gardener. He was a strapping man and quite a pleasure.” The older woman meets my eyes in the mirror as she reapplies her lipstick. “But I’d already married and given my husband two sons. It was harmless and just as forgettable. My son hasn’t yet done his duty.”
Her eyes roam over my fitted skirt and blouse. She purses her lips as if unimpressed. A hot wave of embarrassment brings tears to my eyes.
The other woman pats my hand, her touch as cold as her eyes. “It’s nothing personal, my dear. I’m sure you’re a lovely young woman, but my son has responsibilities you can’t begin to imagine. He needs someone appropriate for a man of his position. He’ll be thirty soon and he’s still unmarried. He needs to focus on his future.”
I nod blindly although a petty part of me wants to tell her that he’s only twenty-eight. That he’s a grown man and can decide for himself what he wants. But I don’t bother because in the end, none of it matters.
Andre and I… well, there is no Andre and I.
All we are is a cata
strophe waiting to happen. Which is why we agreed to keep things professional in the first place.
“You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Lavin. I’m just an employee of his marketing firm. Your son is a very nice man who agreed to give me a tour of the design floor today. I’m sure that once the marketing campaign is over I won’t see him again.” It hurts just to say the words but I need to hear them just as much as she does.
She drops her lipstick back into her bag and snaps it shut. “You’re a sweet girl. You’ve eased a mother’s heart today.”
Two air kisses later she’s gone, leaving a cloud of expensive perfume in her wake.
That’s the kind of woman Andre grew up with. Even as I feel a shudder of sympathy, I envision the elegant women he’s probably used to. Surely they aren’t all this cold. One day, he’ll meet someone warm and interesting who happens to have the right bloodline. Someone who’ll fit in with his staunchly conservative mother and his exclusive social circle.
Someone appropriate.
It’s only a matter of time before he has no reason to come back to D.C. If we hadn’t made an agreement to be friends, there’s a chance we would have gotten caught up in the magic of how we feel and that would only make things harder in the end. The best thing I can do is forget what it felt like in his arms and concentrate on my own future. Maybe if I try hard enough, I can stop wishing for something that isn’t good for me.
Luckily Mya is expecting me back in the office to help out with the design for another client. That’ll cheer me up. I love assisting the designers because it allows me to see how the agency’s core business operates. There are so many intricacies involved in developing a marketing plan, from the colors used in the advertising, to the radio and television coverage of the company’s products.
After that pleasant little chat I need a pick-me-up.
I take a deep breath, resigned to brush off the negativity left from talking with Mrs. Lavin. Nothing the older woman said was a news flash. It’s not like I didn’t know all along our relationship couldn’t work.