Nobody's Fool

by Barbara Meyers

  Not good enough. “For?”

  “For behaving like an ass in Oak Ridge.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Jolie fought with the anger bubbling inside her and won, managing an even tone. “I don’t know what you want from me. You set out to hurt me. You succeeded. You can regret it all you want, but don’t expect me to forgive you.”

  “No, I suppose not.” He hesitated as if he wanted to say something else and then thought better of it. “I know how it must look to you, but my intention wasn’t to hurt you. I hope we can put our personal differences aside, because I have a business proposition for you.”

  Inside Jolie cringed. Was that the extent of how he categorized what had happened between them? Personal differences?

  “I understand Melina offered you a contract as her head designer, but you turned it down because of me. You could have told me, Jo.”

  While Court waited for a response, Jolie thought of ten reasons she hadn’t told him. The first one being it was none of his business.

  Right now, Atlanta was the last place she wanted to be and Court was the last person she wanted to spend time with. She’d had no choice but to turn down Melina’s offer. Not that she’d ever admit it to him. Instead she sat in stony silence.

  When it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything, Court reached for his briefcase. From an inside pocket he withdrew a fat envelope. “I hope you’ll reconsider your decision. This is a revised offer. It’s basically the same contract, which now includes a bonus clause. There’s also a personal letter from Melina. You’ll note the original offer she discussed with you has increased by fifteen percent.” He handed it to her but when she made no move to take it he set it on the coffee table.

  Jolie stared at the envelope, her eyes burning. That’s all he wants from you. That’s why he apologized. Because he wants to keep his client happy. He got his revenge, but now he needs you.

  She unfolded herself from the sofa and faced Court. “I’ll consider it. Was that all then?”

  “Jo, I’m sorry. If I could go back and undo it—”

  “You can’t.”

  “Fine.” Court leaned toward her. At least she’d succeeded in pissing him off. “I never believed you turned her down because of me anyway. You turned her down because you’re afraid.”

  “Afraid? Afraid of what?”

  “Afraid you’ll fail.”

  “I most certainly am not!” Jolie sputtered, so many feelings warring inside her she didn’t know what to do with them all.

  “You have the talent, Jo. You’ve always had it. But you never let anyone see it.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Isn’t it?” His words dripped skepticism. “I can’t remember a time when you weren’t drawing pictures of clothes. It’s what you always wanted to do. But instead of doing it you write about it. You dress semi-celebrities in other people’s clothes. Why is that?”

  “You don’t know me.” The last thing she was going to do was admit Court’s arrow had hit the mark.

  “Bullshit. I’ve known you forever. If I’m not right, you’ll have to prove me wrong.”

  “I don’t have to prove anything to you.” She rose and headed toward the safety of her bedroom. “Please leave.” She tossed the words over her shoulder.

  “That’s what you always do when you’re afraid to face the truth, isn’t it? You run. You did it when we were kids, you did it after that night with our parents, and you’re doing it now.”

  She whirled. “I am not afraid.”

  Their gazes locked, then his dropped to the neckline of her sweater, fixed on the locket. She cursed her sentimental foolishness, the fact that she hadn’t taken it off since her trip to Oak Ridge. But that locket had come to symbolize more than how she felt about Court. It was a symbol of where she’d gone wrong before. A reminder of who she wanted to be now.

  He walked over, lifted the locket and turned it around. The brush of his fingers made her tingle. Her mouth went dry as he stared at the locket. “I remember the day I gave this to you.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Remember what you did?” He released the locket and she felt the warmth of it touch her again. “You ran.”

  She stood her ground until Court picked up his coat. Before he reached the door he turned back. “At least consider the contract. For what it’s worth, I think you and Melina would make a formidable team.”

  The door clicked open and they both turned. “I got pineapple chicken and shrimp with lobster sauce…” Val stopped short and stared, looking from Jolie to Court and back again. “Oh. I didn’t know we had company.” He gave Court a hard look, no doubt picking up on the tension in the room. “Am I interrupting?”

  Jolie tried to send a signal to Val but he wasn’t receiving. A brief stare-down between the two men ensued before Court answered Val’s question. “No. We’re done here.”

  As soon as he left Jolie went back to the sofa and sank into it.

  “That was the infamous Court Harrison, I presume.” Val set the bag of food on the kitchen counter. “What was that all about?” He poured himself a glass of wine and topped off hers.

  Jolie took a grateful sip. “The job with Melina.”

  “Really? I thought you turned it down.”

  “I did. She offered more money. And some kind of bonus.”

  Val took the seat next to her and picked up the papers. “How much more?”

  “Another fifteen percent.” Her hand wasn’t quite steady when she set the glass on the table.

  Val scanned through the contract before tossing it back on the table. “That’s not all she’s offering.” He leaned forward. “You’re a fool if you don’t sign this.”

  “What if I’m not the right designer for what she wants? And he’s there—”

  “Who cares?” Val exploded. “You’re being stupid, Jolie, and I say that with all the love I have for you. You let your pride stand in the way of what you really wanted in high school and you’re doing it again. Court hurt you. Badly. You know it. I know it. I’m pretty sure he knows it. But take Court out of the equation. If he were in no way connected to Melina we wouldn’t be having this discussion, would we? Did he apologize again?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s not good enough for you, is it? Rhetorical question. It doesn’t matter. This is business, Jolie. Business! A chance to design your own line—”

  “Under Melina’s name. Her brand, her say-so—”

  “Who cares?” Val jumped up and paced in the small space available. “Look at the contract! If you initially design for her line and it’s successful, she backs you in a line of your choosing. You want to design your own line of wedding gowns? This is a golden opportunity and if you don’t take advantage of it, I’ll—I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” Jolie asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling at Val’s passion.

  “I’ll never let you forget it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Melina, your schedule is impossible,” Jolie informed her new boss for what felt like the tenth time. “And you are never going to get buyers to attend a preview of your line in Atlanta in July! You can’t expect them to cancel one of their weekends in the Hamptons for this. LA maybe. Atlanta? No way.”

  Melina frowned, her beautifully maintained brows drawing together over aquamarine eyes, her sensuous lips turned down.

  “I am boss. You not argue with me.”

  “Then fire me,” Jolie shot back, almost wishing Melina would. “Your expectations are unrealistic.”

  “Maybe Court wrong about you.”

  “Maybe he was.”

  She’d been in Atlanta for exactly one week and from the moment she’d arrived she’d regretted her decision. Jolie had been in such a rush to prove something to Court, or perhaps to herself, she’d barely scanned the revised contract before s
he’d signed it and overnighted it back. She’d imagined Court’s surprise when he learned of her acceptance. Take that! She wasn’t afraid of him or anyone else, nor was she afraid of their opinion about the collection she’d design for Melina’s brand.

  But that was then and this was now. She hadn’t realized Melina expected Jolie to live with her, but when she reviewed the contract she realized that’s exactly what she’d signed on for. Melina wanted complete access and with her training schedule, upcoming matches, travel and social life, Jolie could see that was the only way Melina would have time to oversee development of the line.

  Melina’s compound included a guest cottage just beyond the tennis court and swimming pool and it was there that Jolie had been installed. Melina had rearranged her formal dining room to serve as a work space. Melina’s cousin, Sophina, who spoke little English but could sew anything Jolie designed and could understand Jolie’s improvised sign language, was available around the clock.

  All the arrangements Melina had made were ideal, except for her timeline. A fact Jolie had been trying to explain to her for the past three days.

  In one of her lightning-fast changes of mood, Melina’s annoyance disappeared. “Let’s look at schedule.”

  They were in Melina’s gigantic kitchen, facing each other across a center island covered in polished black granite. From her perch on one of the stools, Melina opened a drawer and withdrew a calendar. Reluctantly, Jolie circled the island to join her. They’d been over this already and Jolie had a sinking feeling she knew what would come next. Melina would wheedle and cajole and explain to Jolie how exactly they would make it all happen.

  Jolie stared at the calendar over Melina’s shoulder. She figured she had at best three months to put together an entire collection, most of which had not yet been given Melina’s final approval. Jolie still needed to acquire the materials and do cost estimates for each look. Melina had people already working on deals with factories for mass production.

  But they’d need a catalog for buyers, which meant each look had to be complete. A photo shoot had to be scheduled, models had to be interviewed… The list went on and on. In Melina’s mind, however, launching a brand new fashion line was a breeze and she couldn’t even imagine what all the fuss was about.

  “You’re leaving for the French Open the middle of May. You have Wimbledon at the end of June.”

  “Correct.”

  “And you’ve set the soft launch for the end of July.”

  “Yes. I will be on roll then,” Melina informed her. “No better time to build momentum before the U.S. Open.”

  “Which is at the end of August.”

  “Yes. I already in New York. I will be hot news after I win. We head right into Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week. No better time to build buzz, no?”

  The thought of Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week made Jolie almost physically sick with trepidation. That internal voice that told her she wasn’t good enough, didn’t have what it took to make it as a top fashion designer echoed through her head. Not for the first time Jolie wished she possessed just a drop of Melina’s confidence. How did she do it? She was only a few years younger than Jolie yet she seemed to believe anything was possible. She had the world by the tail and she was the one in charge.

  As if Melina had read her thoughts, she said, “Jolie. You design. I hire Danny Carpenter. He take care of everything else. You tell me what you need. Together we make it happen.”

  “If you say so. Just one question. Who’s Danny Carpenter?”

  Jolie stared at the business card she’d just been given. She was knee deep in bolts of wool crepe and he was the third interruption this morning.

  New Millennium Events, the card read. Leave the details to us. Daniel Carpenter, Event Specialist.

  “Melina told you to expect me, I hope?” Daniel said with a cocksure smile.

  Jolie couldn’t quite contain her sigh of annoyance. No matter how well she planned each day, the universe conspired to keep her from accomplishing anything. Today would be no exception.

  She assessed Daniel Carpenter. Her first thought was he didn’t know the first thing about how to put together a fashion show. No matter what Melina thought about this man’s capabilities, Jolie was certain she could add event planner to her own list of duties.

  “She mentioned you,” Jolie answered noncommittally. If Melina had set up an appointment with him, this was the first Jolie was hearing about it.

  He stepped carefully around the room, eyeing the bolts of fabric which were stacked everywhere along the perimeter, the mannequins with partially completed garments draped over them, the huge dining table Jolie used as a workspace which was littered with drawings and tape measures, ribbon, buttons, more fabric and an empty venti-sized Starbucks cup.

  His self-guided tour of the room gave her an opportunity to study him further. She’d noted dark blue eyes behind his Harry Potter glasses and waves of dark hair. With his casual demeanor, he made Jolie think of a preppie kid who studied hard but knew how to have fun.

  “You can call me Danny. And you’re the Jolie Kramer Melina’s told me about.”

  “Danny, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m working on a dozen things right now and they’re all behind schedule. Do you have any idea how to coordinate a runway show? Where to hire models, how to put together a catalog?”

  “Yes.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Melina thought you’d be skeptical, and you’re right. I can’t do it all. My skill is knowing where to find those who do. All I need from you is a timeline. I’ve already booked the venue. I’ve discussed a theme with Melina and my staff is working on that. I’ve got a modeling agency’s book, which I’ll leave with you. I’m reviewing six bids for photographers for the catalog and four bids from printers.”

  “What about invitations?”

  “Preliminary designs will be ready next week. We’re preparing a guest list for you and Melina to look at by Friday.”

  “After party?”

  “Private room reserved at Le Rivage per Melina’s request. The chef’s working on a menu.”

  “I’m impressed,” Jolie admitted.

  “Atlanta Life also wants to do a feature for the summer issue. I told them I’d get back to them.”

  Jolie smiled. This was reassuring. “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”

  Danny smiled back. “Like the card says, leave the details to us. If you have questions, concerns, or think of anything I haven’t, give me a call, okay? Otherwise, I’ll be in touch.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Jolie, we need to talk.”

  Jolie sighed in resignation hoping Melina didn’t notice. Every time Melina popped into the workroom and wanted to talk it was always about one of the designs. Melina was a never-ending source of suggestions, ideas and outright demands for minor changes on pieces Jolie considered finished.

  The fact that Melina was right every time was small comfort considering the extra work she created for Jolie, Sophina and Sophina’s assistant, yet another cousin named Danica.

  Jolie pasted on a smile. “Certainly, Melina. What is it?” This time.

  “Is about the guest house.”

  “Yes?”

  “My mother and my aunt Zora insist on coming over. They do not want to wait until week of show.”

  Jolie waited. She’d been ensconced in Melina’s guest house since her arrival. It was the perfect space with its own small kitchen, sitting area, bedroom and bath. Plus it was close to the workspace here, convenient if inspiration struck in the middle of the night, or if Jolie needed a short break during the day.

  “They will be staying there.”

  “But there’s only one bedroom,” Jolie pointed out.

  “Yes. They do not mind sharing.”

  The idea of being ousted to the small sofa in the living
room made Jolie more than a little upset. How dare she evict her! Jolie narrowed her eyes at Melina.

  “I have made arrangement for you. Comfortable place. Very close.”

  “Where?”

  “Court’s house. It is on street right behind tennis court, there is gate—”

  “Wait a minute. You want me to move in with Court? Absolutely not!”

  “He has guest room, private bath. Very convenient. He say you are welcome to use. It is perfect.”

  “If it’s so perfect why don’t you have your mother and aunt stay there?”

  Melina looked affronted. “They are family.”

  “I’ll stay in a hotel.”

  “No. Hotel is too far away. You agree to living quarters I arrange. Is in contract.”

  Was it? Living with Melina was one thing, but this? What was she playing at? What was Court playing at? What if he and Melina had cooked up this clause as a way to get Jolie into Court’s house? So he could…what? Wear her down? Get her to forgive him?

  That was not going to happen and by God if that’s what the two of them were playing at she’d show them both. First she’d take a look at the contract and call her attorney. If she’d agreed to such a relocation, she’d stand by her agreement. But she’d make Court suffer for it. She would add this to the long list of things she’d never forgive him for.

  “Will you excuse me?” she asked Melina. Without waiting for a response she walked out of the workroom.

  In the guest house, she located her copy of the contract while she was on hold for her attorney. She scanned the fine print until she found the appropriate clause.

  She had indeed agreed to Melina defining where she would reside until the collection was complete to Melina’s satisfaction. That meant she would be stuck in Court’s house for several weeks.

  She sank to the edge of the bed. The very idea of being forced into living in Court’s house for weeks gave her an unsettled feeling of dismay. Could she really feign indifference that long? As it was, she’d caught only a glimpse of Court now and then since she’d been here. Those meetings had been thankfully brief, passing moments where she’d had to do no more than utter a civil greeting and excuse herself.