by Erika Kelly
Following, she muttered, “He has a Creative Director.”
“Zach,” he called.
The hipster dude looked up from the screen of his laptop, where he’d been clicking away like a maniac.
“This is Knox Holliday. Knox, this Zach, he’s the Creative Director for Duck Dive Haberdashery.”
“Duck Dive? That’s the name of your business?”
He couldn’t tell if she liked it or not. She sounded more surprised than anything. “Yeah. Like I said, we didn’t take it too seriously at the start.”
“Don’t believe a word he says.” Zach set the laptop on the coffee table and got up off the couch. “He’s a magnate.”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “Not even close.”
“Zach Martin.” He reached out a hand. “It’s great to meet you, Knox. Wish it were under better circumstances.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” She shook his hand but turned to Gray with a confused expression. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Yeah, sure.” He clapped Zach on the shoulder. “Listen, I hate to leave you guys like this, but I have to head to the airport. I’m hoping you’ll have a chance to get to know each other, see if you’d like to work together.”
“Are you kidding?” Zach smiled as he shook Knox’s hand. “Working on something other than board shorts? Hell, yeah.”
His creative director must’ve caught the crease between Knox’s eyes, because he continued. “Before I came here, I worked at Hugo Rossi.”
“Really?” Knox sounded impressed.
“Yeah, so getting back to higher end products is cool.”
“All right. I’m out of here.” Gray hoped like hell she’d like his staff. He wanted this partnership to work. It was more than wanting to make things right for her. The challenge of helping build her platform excited him. “Walk me out?”
“Yeah, sure.” She blinked away the tears glistening in her eyes.
When he hit the porch, he turned back to her. “Amelia’s got a professional preservationist coming in to pack up your dresses. We’ll expedite shipping so you don’t lose any more time.” But that only made her sadder. “You okay?” What else could he do to make it right for her?
She turned glassy eyes toward him. “You’re the kindest man I’ve ever known. I don’t even know what to say.” She looked lost. “Thank you just seems so hollow.”
“I think you forget that I’m the one who caused all your problems.”
“No, I’m not forgetting anything.”
He wanted to hug her, press a kiss in her palm, and tell her everything would be all right. But he knew where that would lead, because his tongue would wander toward her delicate wrist and then trace the ink on the inside of her forearm.
Starting just below the elbow, black thread unraveled from a spool and turned into a fanciful dress on a hanger. It continued its merry path to a stitched heart and ended through the eye of a needle. It was awesome.
But there would be no arm licking. “I’ve got to head to the airport. It’d be great if you could get to know Zach and Amelia. If they’re not a good fit, we can hire other people. It’s all up to you.”
She gestured to the bunkhouse. “This is better than anything I could’ve imagined. Gray, you’ve…set me up nicely.”
In that moment, he knew he’d give up Titans Invitational just to stay with her and get more of that softness, to be part of this journey she’d just started. He wanted…fuck. Look at me, going right back there. “Okay. I’m out.” He trampled down the steps. “You need anything at all, text me.”
The early September air swept over his heated skin. Even from this distance, he could see the kaleidoscope of emotions moving across her beautiful features. She was completely overwhelmed, and yet, in spite of her panic and confusion, she was rallying, moving forward.
It drove him crazy, what they’d done to her. How they’d ruined things. And he just had to help her. Had to.
Nobody felt things deeper than Knox. When she laughed, it was with her whole body, doubling over and clutching her stomach. When she was angry, hellfire flashed in her eyes. When she was hurt, she’d pull into herself like a turtle.
He’d loved all those moods, and no sixty-foot wave or twenty-two-foot halfpipe wall came close to the thrill he got from simply being with her.
His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his pocket to see a text from Sarah, his pilot.
Fueled up and ready to go.
Before hopping into the truck, he glanced back at the bunkhouse and caught a glimpse of Knox through the open door. Her long, surfer-girl hair gleamed as she headed toward the kitchen. The boy in him who’d never gotten to hold her hand wanted to stay, revel in her smiles and laughter and fierce attitude. But the man knew there was nothing between them. Not like that anyway.
He typed his response. On my way.
Chapter Forty-Five
“I can’t believe how fast Gray got these here.” Knox gently pulled the pale pink tulle over the dress form and smoothed it. He’d expedited the shipping, getting them preserved and delivered to the bunkhouse in one week. She was just so happy to see them outside the wreckage of that house. This one, the Pirouette, didn’t have much damage at all.
Zach used his cutter to open one of the other boxes. “He’s a great guy.” He pulled out a lavender organza so pale it looked like stardust and handed it over to her.
Moving to the next form, she eased the skirt over the top. “Yeah, but he’s got so much going on.” The strong scent of coffee permeated the huge space, and she worried about the dresses. “Maybe we shouldn’t cook here.”
Zach looked up, obviously trying to make sense of her comment.
“The fabrics will absorb the smells.”
“Ah. Gotcha. I’m used to polyester and nylon. I can hit up Calamity Joe’s, though, right? Bring in my own cup?”
“Definitely. It’s just better not to brew any here.”
Slicing open another box, he pulled out a glittery white fairy gown. “I don’t know squat about wedding dresses, but these are pretty damn amazing. I don’t even want to touch them.”
Normally, she wouldn’t let him. An uneven fingernail or a callous could ruin a dress. But these were already destroyed.
Her loss hit her. Full-on body blow. Sacked, she lowered her arms, stopped breathing for the count of one…two…three. God. Yes, she was glad to have her dresses back, but seeing what she’d spent a year sewing with her own hands ruined…hurt.
She just had to focus on moving forward. She had a plan, a business partner, and a team. It’s going to work out. And Zach was awesome. “If you don’t mind my asking, why’d you leave Hugo Rossi?”
“I’m actually from a small mountain town in Colorado, so when Gray first approached me, I was kind of into the idea of leaving the city and coming back to my roots. But what sealed it was that, at my old job, it was the same button downs, khakis, V-necks…over and over.”
“And Duck Dive?”
“Gray’s got a really creative business mind. His brain’s always working, always thinking of the next idea, and he likes what I bring to the table. As soon as I convinced him to expand into women’s swimwear, it opened the door to cover-ups and tunics. He lets me run with it, and I love that.”
“And here I’ve been worried about trusting a surfer with my career.”
“Gray’s not a surfer. He’s an elite athlete, who runs a successful business. And he’s focused on getting your career back.”
“I hope I can.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“It’s an extremely competitive world. The best path was through my old boss.” Who had yet to return her calls. She needed to talk to him, tell him her new path. “He had access to the kinds of unique fabrics and material I can’t get on my own. I’ll get there…it’s just going to be harder, that’s all.”
“Don’t sell Gray short.” Zach’s smile was filled with awe for his boss.
“I know his intent
ions are good, and I’ve already benefitted from his good ideas, but he does have a short attention span.” She said it with a laugh.
But he didn’t smile. “Why do you say that?”
“He’s training for the Olympics, but he gets the call for Titans, and off he goes? There isn’t much he takes seriously.”
“You sure about that? Not sure you can surf sixty-foot waves and heli ski if you don’t take it seriously. I know he comes off all easy-going, but I’ve seen him in action.” He tipped his head with a thoughtful expression. “Actually, I don’t know why he downplays his achievements.”
Had he always been like that? Knox stopped for a moment, considering. For years, both Gray and Robert had been rabidly competitive with each other. Literally, everything was a challenge. They’d hike up to Dead Man’s summit and, about a mile before the top, they’d both take off, race-walking. A drive to Bozeman would turn into a drag race, with Knox bracing against the dashboard and shouting at Robert to cut it out.
It only struck her now that Gray’s competitiveness had ended with Robert’s addiction. Except…now that she thought about it, maybe he hadn’t lost it at all. Maybe he’d only acted like he didn’t care. Isn’t that what they’d had to do for Robert? They’d been so careful not to set him off.
Had Gray started downplaying his wins? Had he stopped acting like he cared because he didn’t want Robert to feel bad? It certainly made sense.
Of course, it hadn’t worked. Gray figured out long before she had that you couldn’t control someone else’s behavior. She’d spent half her life fighting that losing battle. But had it become a habit for Gray, downplaying his achievements? Because Zach was right. Gray wouldn’t be a champion if he didn’t take his training seriously. “You know what? You’re absolutely—”
Before she finished her sentence, the door opened, and cool, fresh air swept in. Two gorgeous women—one, Callie Bell, a tall, elegant brunette, the other a sexy, gorgeous blonde who must be Delilah—sashayed into the bunkhouse. Callie put a hand over her heart and said, “Oh, my God. Look at those dresses.” Her gaze skimmed along the line of frothy gowns. “Is this for real?” She glanced up with a grin. “Can I have all of them?”
“You bet.” Knox knew she sounded a little stiff, but her heart was racing. She’d gone to school with Callie, which meant the woman knew everything about her past. The other one, Delilah, was she local, too? Knox hadn’t thought to ask Gray about her, so she tried to process her features, her attributes, anything that might trigger a recollection. The bullies had made a permanent imprint, so she’d recognize them a hundred years from now. She’d rather sell cars for a living than design dresses for anyone who’d ever barked at her. But, no, nothing about Delilah rang any bells. “You can have anything you want.”
“Careful what you offer me. I can’t even set a date for my wedding, let alone choose a dress.”
“Zach,” Knox said. “Do you know Callie and Delilah?”
“No, we haven’t met.” He shook both their hands. “It’s nice to meet you both. How about I let you ladies alone to talk gowns, while I finish unpacking them?”
“Thanks, Zach,” Knox said.
Turning back to the forms, Callie moaned. “How am I supposed to choose? These are the most gorgeous wedding dresses I’ve ever seen.”
“And trust me when I say she’s been looking,” Delilah said. “She’s got wedding magazines all over her house, her car, the museum.” With a bright smile, she reached a hand out. “I’m Delilah Lua, and you must be the magic maker.”
Knox clasped her hand. “That’s the title on my business card.”
“We are so excited that you’ll be making our dresses,” Delilah said. “Just to be clear, I’ve recently opened a restaurant here, and I’m in way over my head, so I’m in no rush to get this done. Also, I’m not going to be that crazy bride who takes up every second of your time making changes every time she sees something she likes better.” She gave an exaggerated tip of her head toward her friend.
Callie’s eyes went wide. “Are you seriously making fun of me right now? Look at these.”
Delilah burst out laughing.
My God, she’s dazzling. Knox was positive she’d remember her. “You’re not from here, are you?”
“Oh, no,” Delilah said. “I just moved here this summer. I’m from New York.”
Thank God. “That’s where I went to college.”
“FIT?” Delilah asked.
“Yep.”
“How many pounds did you gain eating Mort’s French fries?”
Knox found herself relaxing. “Ten in my freshman year. And I don’t regret a single one.”
“I went to school there, too.” Callie shook her head. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. I’m Callie Bell, Fin’s fiancée. Do you remember me?”
“Of course. It’s good to see you again.” Please don’t bring up the past.
“Delilah’s marrying Will.”
“What voodoo did you practice on him?” From the look on the chef’s face, Knox instantly regretted making the joke.
“Why does everybody say that?” Delilah looked genuinely confused. “Will’s got the biggest heart of anyone I know.”
“That’s because you cracked it open.” Callie came closer to Knox. “I remember you, you know.”
Her smile faltered. Don’t let her go there. “Well, who wouldn’t? I had quite the reputation.” Dread got a good, solid grip on her as she waited to hear Callie explain about Knox Holliday, the junk yard dog. Awesome.
Callie nudged her friend with an elbow. “She was a year ahead of me, and she had more style in her pinky than everyone in the whole town combined—and that includes the rich people. I swear, everyone in our school wore Uggs, jeans, and hoodies. But Knox?” Callie took in Knox’s slim-cut black velvet pants, the leather, studded ankle boots, and the boat-neck blouse she’d made herself. “She rocked scarves and leather jackets, ripped tights and baby doll dresses.”
“My mom was a child of the eighties,” Knox said. “I borrowed a lot of her stuff.”
“I remember making this list,” Callie said. “Pretty much writing down everything I saw you wear that I thought was cool. And I spent the entire winter break trying things on and playing with different looks. And then, the morning before we went back to school, my room was this explosion of clothing and accessories, and I wound up going to school in Uggs, jeans, and a hoodie, because I just couldn’t make anything work.”
“You have gorgeous style now.” Knox thought Callie looked as sleek and elegant as Audrey Hepburn.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t have the confidence back then,” Callie said. “You had it in spades.”
“Thank you. That’s nice to hear.” Though it wasn’t confidence so much as defiance. She wouldn’t let the assholes win.
“I can’t believe Gray destroyed your dresses.” Callie cringed, as though witnessing the accident right then.
“It wasn’t Gray behind the wheel, but he’s the one going above and beyond to make it right.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Delilah asked. “Are you fixing them for a show?”
“We’re…assessing.” She didn’t have the money to fix them, but she wouldn’t bring that up.
“We are definitely doing something with them,” Zach called from the long kitchen table, where he was laying out dresses since they’d run out of dress forms. “They’re amazing.”
“We’re hopeful.” Change the subject so you don’t break down in front of them. “But I’m excited to make your wedding gowns. Since neither of you has a date set, we can take our time. I’ll go over styles and fabrics with you, make some sketches, and we’ll start from there. Sound good?”
“Sounds fantastic,” Callie said. “I have to say, now that you’re here and this is happening, I’m really excited.”
“I’m glad. This’ll be fun.” She gave them a smile, but inside she was a little panicky. She had no idea where she’d buy the material for two dresses. The high-en
d vendors she worked with had a minimum amount of fabric they’d sell. Maybe since they knew her, they’d give her a break. Hopefully. She had good relationships with everyone.
Her phone vibrated on the table. “Excuse me.” Reaching for it, she turned away from them to face the French doors. Luc. Finally. Last time they’d talked, he’d completely freaked out before abruptly hanging up on her, and she hadn’t heard from him since. “Hey.” A million thoughts ran through her head.
Are you still mad at me?
I hope you know it wasn’t my fault.
I’m freaking out, and I just want you to fix everything and get my life back on track.
“It has taken me several days.” He spoke in a measured tone. “But I am finally coming to terms with the loss of our collection.”
Her heart squeezed painfully. Gray had mobilized so quickly to get her back in action, and she truly appreciated his help, but he didn’t get it. Only Luc would. It was such a relief to confide in him. “I know.” She stepped away from the others. “I’m devastated but trying to hold it together. I was so close, you know? So close to starting the career I’ve always dreamed of. And to have it ripped from me…God. I just…” Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she swiped them away. “I just can’t stand it. I lie awake at night, and it’s like I’m plugged in. Like there’s an electrical current running through me. I just can’t believe it. I want to wake up from this nightmare.”
“Mon petit chou, it is a nightmare. I had the Lincoln Center. I had Marie-Thérèse, who wears your gowns like she was born in them. But I have salvaged everything by giving your show to Antonia. She is as close to your talent as I’ve got. Close, but simply not the same.”
Antonia? A sting of jealousy shot through her. That woman was so full of herself. A true mean girl. “Well, good for her.”
“Yes, she is floating on air. Now, for you, ma chère, my favorite designer, all is not lost. I have a plan.”
“A plan?” Would he back her for April’s Bridal Fashion Week? She didn’t know if she could have twenty-five dresses in that time—some had to be redone completely.