Indifferent, she reminded herself. At any cost. She forced a smile. “Actually, there’s a café next to the fabric store. I was planning to stop there. If you’d like to join me, feel free.”
Ha! She’d neatly turned his invitation back on him.
Except Court looked a little too pleased with the offer. “Perfect. I’ll follow you.”
Jolie drove to the café with Court following behind in his car. Why hadn’t she said she didn’t have time for lunch? It was true enough. But it was also true that she was starving. She rarely ate breakfast unless it was a quick bite along with her coffee before she arrived in the workroom. She hardly had time to think about food or anything else except how she was going to get everything done in time for the Atlanta show.
She didn’t want to think about Court, although he crept into her thoughts more often than she wanted. She didn’t need the added pressure of having lunch with him now. Yet some sick twisted part of her looked forward to it. Shields up, she thought, channeling Captain Kirk. It shouldn’t be this hard. She’d been acting like she didn’t care about Court since she was seventeen, except for that small lapse at the cabin when she’d told him how she really felt.
See? Being honest is a recipe for a broken heart.
“How are things going?” Court asked once they were seated.
“Melina’s a taskmaster. She wants her stamp on every design, so she makes endless suggestions which result in endless changes to the designs.”
A waiter came and went, taking their order. “Sounds like a lot of work.”
“It is. But she has an unusual eye for design and fashion in general. I guess I knew that going in. She’s famous for it, so I can’t pretend I’m surprised. Even though her ideas make more work for me, the final garments are going to be even better than what I originally envisioned.”
“It’s been a good opportunity for you, then?”
Jolie stared at Court. He wants to take credit for giving me this chance. He wants me to admit he was right. But the longer she looked in his eyes the less sure she became that Court was thinking any such thing. The less sure she became about anything. She fiddled with her silverware and mumbled, “Yes. I suppose it has.”
“What are you working on now?” Court nodded at her sketchbook, which she’d set on one of the empty chairs along with her purse.
“A wedding dress,” Jolie admitted. She was reminded of dozens of high school afternoons, she and Court in her bedroom, he retrieving her crumpled-up designs and saying how great they were. Those had mostly been wedding dresses.
“A wedding dress, huh? For the show? Can I see?”
Their food arrived and Jolie thanked the server for the welcome distraction. This was just like old times. Except, Jolie reminded herself, she didn’t care what Court thought. Or at least, she amended, she’d pretend she didn’t. She wasn’t going to show the design to Melina and Melina wasn’t going to be allowed to change it. Melina was going to wear it and keep her mouth shut. No one else was going to have any input on this dress. This was hers and hers alone. So what could it hurt to show it to Court?
She picked up the book and flipped to the initial idea and turned it for Court to see. “I thought of doing something with a pearlized pink metallic under white glitter satin. With slits, so the metallic would show through. Kind of a play on Melina’s personality, more than meets the eye.”
Court nodded.
Jolie flipped through the pages. “These are just some notes and details and ideas. Here, I abandoned the idea of the slits and amended it to this off-the-shoulder look with a sweetheart neckline and long sleeves using the sheer metallic.”
“I like it,” Court said.
“Then I thought of the Victorian era. The dresses had an underskirt, usually a different color than the overskirt.” She flipped another page. Court nodded.
“A bustle. Modified. Drawn up in the back, probably not this high. I’m not sure I want to emphasize Melina’s backside, or that she’d want me to.”
Court chuckled. “I dunno, these days women seem to like showing off their booty.”
Jolie grinned before she caught herself. She flipped another page. “This is where I am now. It’s not the final look, but it’s close.”
Jolie looked at the sketch, which showed it from the front, side and back. She knew better than to fall in love with her own work, but she had.
“I love it,” Court said. “Melina will too.”
“You think?” Jolie tried to sound casual, like she didn’t care what anyone else thought.
“It’s really great.”
Jolie allowed herself another grin, while trying to hide how truly pleased she was with Court’s praise. “You always say that.”
“That’s because I think everything you do is great. I think you’re great. I always have.”
“Why thank you, Court.” She adopted a thick Southern accent. “I do declare I think some Southern charm has seeped into your bones after all your time in Atlanta. You surely do know how to flatter a lady.”
She picked up half of her Ceasar salad wrap while Court tried his soup. Jolie frowned at her sketchpad, left open on the last sketch.
She set the wrap down, found a packet of drawing pencils in her purse and flipped to a new page.
Court ate his lunch and watched Jolie work. He’d always loved watching her sketch. She seemed to escape into another world where he couldn’t follow, focused on what she was creating. But she always came back to him when she finished. Half the time she’d rip the page from her book and toss it aside or crumple it and aim for the wastebasket in her bedroom.
He thought of the sketches he’d shown Melina months ago. She hadn’t been that impressed, perhaps rightfully so. They were from high school after all. Still, she’d hired Jolie as her designer without realizing the designs she’d dismissed had been hers.
Court thought of the collage that hung in his office. Initially he’d made it to remind himself Jolie had helped him find his path. He’d spotted her talent early on and he liked to think that was his gift in life. Now, when he gazed at it he was reminded never to give up. Jolie hadn’t. She’d put her design talent aside for a while, she’d taken a meandering path to get where she was, but she’d never lost the talent or the dream.
He hoped the same was true of their relationship. It had been put aside for a while, but the dream was still there. That hadn’t changed. Well, it had, but just like her designs evolved, so did they. What had always been between them was still there. Jolie could deny it all she wanted, but Court had had ten years to learn patience. He had to believe eventually she would come around. She’d forgive him. She had to. The alternative was unthinkable.
After several minutes Jolie set her sketchpad aside and took another bite of her wrap. “Sorry about that,” she said. “Now you know why I hesitated when you mentioned lunch. I’m terrible company. I always get distracted.”
“Not a problem. May I?” She handed him the sketchbook and he studied the latest design. He flipped back to the earlier ones.
“You decided to use the metallic fabric as an accent?”
“I needed to edit. I like the idea of using the metallic as an edging and in the sash. Possibly in a modified bustle. I haven’t decided. It will be easier once I have the fabric and I can work with it. Trust me. This isn’t final.” She indicated the most recent sketch.
“Nothing ever is.” Court hoped she knew he wasn’t talking about her sketch. “Thanks, Jo. I’ve got to go.”
Court had to get back to the office. Jolie stayed behind to work on a couple of details and watched him leave. He stopped at the cashier, pointed to their table and paid. Jolie looked her sketch over, then glanced out the window and saw Court’s car leaving the parking lot. He was gone. But the warm glow of his praise remained.
Chapter Nineteen
The night of the runway s
how Jolie was running on pure adrenaline. If she stopped to think about how exhausted she was she wouldn’t be able to start again. Behind the scenes was chaos, pretty much as she’d expected. No matter how many experts Melina had at her beck and call there were still a thousand details left to be dealt with and a hundred questions to be answered.
At least the models had managed to arrive more or less on time. The hair and makeup people had their assignments. Sophina was in charge of making sure the models were matched with the designs assigned to them. Jolie had put herself in charge of Melina.
The woman absolutely glowed. It was maddening. Melina had been training non-stop the entire time Jolie had been in Atlanta. She was in top physical form. Add to that the time and energy she put into overseeing this collection, her publicity appearances, the full-time job of being a celebrity, plus keeping her relationship with a Grammy-winning rock star going for more than a year, and it was enough to intimidate anyone. Almost anyone. Jolie still couldn’t figure out how she did it, but she admired Melina and considered her a friend now as well as her employer.
Jolie was almost ready for the unveiling, or the veiling as it were. She finished fastening the last hook and eye on the back of the sash and stepped in front to view the overall effect of the dress. It was a stunner. Perhaps her best work ever. Melina’s hair and been coaxed into a soft, romantic updo that left several curling tendrils loose around her throat and temples.
Opals glowed at her ears and from an exquisite pendant necklace. The makeup artist had followed Jolie’s instructions and created a rosy glow for Melina’s radiant complexion. Her eyes were gently smoky with hues of pink and green and blue to match the opals.
Jolie had ended up using the pearlized metallic material more sparingly than she’d intended, but the wide sash was a triumph that brought the dress together and completed the look she had in mind.
Melina was watching her. She’d acquiesced to everything without question or comment, which surprised Jolie. Despite the promise she’d been given, Jolie had expected a fight at every turn. But Melina kept her word. Jolie looked at her friend now. “Do you want to see?”
Melina nodded. Jolie turned her around to face a full-length mirror.
“Oh!” Melina stared at herself without saying anything else. Jolie couldn’t tell if she was pleased or appalled. Jolie’s heart sank when she saw tears well in the tennis star’s eyes. Jolie’s crowning achievement, the one item in the entire collection Melina had nothing to do with, was a massive disappointment.
“Melina, I—”
“Is beautiful,” Melina said, still staring at her reflection. “I have no words.”
Jolie pressed a fist to her chest in relief. “I thought you hated it.”
“No.” Their gazes met in the mirror. “You have captured me.”
Jolie picked up the bouquet for Melina to carry. Trails of metallic fabric streamed below pink roses and pale greenery.
The stage manager called, “Two minutes, everyone. Two minutes.”
Danny Carpenter, who’d been overseeing every aspect of the show from the beginning, joined them. “We’re good to go. How are you two doing?” He couldn’t take his gaze off Melina. “Wow. That’s quite a dress.”
“Is beautiful, no? Jolie’s design. You wait. Jolie Kramer will be big name in wedding gowns.”
Danny switched his focus to Jolie. “Oh, I believe it. But let’s get through this show first. What do you say?”
Jolie glanced once more at Melina. “We’re ready, aren’t we?”
“Ready,” Melina said.
Time stood still while Jolie absorbed what was happening. The music playing in the auditorium covered the noise from backstage. In two minutes, she’d have to walk out on that stage and announce herself as the designer who had worked with Melina Kyaskova on her first-ever collection.
She squeezed Melina’s hand and Melina squeezed back. “Thank you,” Melina whispered.
The models were lined up. Sophina and Danica checked each for accessories and last-minute adjustments of hems and straps and cuffs.
The stage manager nodded at Jolie and handed her a microphone. The music died away. He nodded at her. She strode out to the stage to announce herself.
The first person she saw was Val, in the front row next to Krystian. In the two seconds she focused on him he mouthed the words, “Love you,” which made her smile and helped calm the butterflies.
Her spiel ended and Jolie was backstage listening to the applause die down, making sure for the thousandth time everything was perfect. “Go,” she said to the first model. Time sped by as model after model hit the runway, until finally only Melina herself remained. Jolie grinned at her. “You’re perfect.”
“I know.” Melina giggled.
Jolie waited an extra beat before she said, “Go.”
Melina stepped into the spotlight into a moment of silence as the music cut. A hush fell over the audience and a symphonic orchestra piece suitable for a bride’s walk down the aisle began.
Jolie stepped away to watch from the monitor. Melina was a convincing bride. She reached the end of the runway and paused to give the audience the full effect of her outfit. Danny, who was also watching the monitor, spoke into his mike. “Cue the groom.”
Jolie was certain she hadn’t heard him right. Melina was the last look in the show. “Cue the what?”
Before she’d finished the question a man in a tuxedo stepped onto the catwalk. The audience cheered. Melina turned to see Ricky Estevez a few feet away.
She didn’t fake her surprise. He strode toward her and took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. But when he got down on one knee the applause and cheers stopped. Melina stared at him. Ricky couldn’t have planned this any better. The cameras were all able to capture the look on Melina’s face as well as Ricky’s gazing up at her. He held up a ring that glittered in the spotlights. Even though he wasn’t miked everyone watching knew exactly what he said next—Melina Kyaskova, I love you. Will you marry me?
Melina nodded. She was shaken and because of her strong personality it was all the more poignant to see her in such an unguarded moment. Ricky slid the ring onto her finger and stood. He kissed her, careful not to muss her. Then he stood next to her, his arm around her and waved to the audience. Melina beamed. The crowd went wild, giving the moment a standing ovation.
Ricky waited a bit before he turned, tucked Melina’s hand in the crook of his elbow and led her backstage.
“I don’t believe it,” Jolie said. She punched Daniel in the arm. “You son of a bitch. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Daniel grinned still gazing at the monitor. “We didn’t want a leak to reach TMZ. Ricky’s idea.
She looked at the stage manager, Sophina and the other helpers and models, several of whom were dabbing at tears.
“Okay, let’s finish it,” the stage manager told them the moment Melina and Ricky were off the catwalk. He gestured to the first model. “Come on. Come on.”
She strode out and one by one the other models followed her. Jolie walked out with the final look and Melina and Ricky strolled hand in hand behind them.
The show was over.
Chapter Twenty
A flood of well-wishers magazine editors, and fashionistas swarmed backstage. Melina held court a few feet away from Jolie who had her own little following. They posed for photos and answered questions. Even while words like “innovative,” “accessible,” and “eminently wearable” reached her ears, Jolie couldn’t stop scanning the crush of people for a glimpse of Court. Surely he was here somewhere. He wouldn’t miss Melina’s big night. Or hers. Would he?
As the evening wore on and the crowd thinned, Jolie’s disappointment grew. Val, who’d been close by throughout the show, left with Krystian after eliciting Jolie’s promise that she’d join them at the private celebration at the restaurant.
She’d been working grueling hours for the past six months and whatever happened with the collection now was out of her control. She could feel herself deflating as the adrenaline that had kept her going drained away. She was alone.
That word pounded through her like a mantra. Alone. Alone. Alone. In her success or her failure, she had no one to share either with. No one to support her or celebrate with her.
Val had paired off with Krystian. Ricky was by Melina’s side. Everywhere she looked she saw couples.
She made her way to the after party across town. The restaurant was decorated with thousands of tiny lights. The outdoor terrace was crowded, the partygoers becoming more boisterous as they added to the champagne they’d already consumed backstage. She handed her keys to the valet and went in, trying to keep her dismal thoughts at bay.
Why did she suddenly feel so lost? She’d built her career on her own, and she’d never had anyone to come home to before. It had never bothered her like this.
When the restaurant door opened and she stepped inside she saw her parents. “Mom? Dad?”
Sue-Ellen embraced her and her father put his arms around them both before Jolie broke away and gave him a proper hug of his own. “I thought you were going to wait until the show in New York.”
“We’re still planning to be there,” her mother answered. “But we wanted to surprise you.”
“You certainly did. You saw the show then?”
“Yes. Melina arranged everything. We’re so proud of you.” Her mother beamed with pride.
“You did good, kid,” Martin agreed, patting her shoulder.
Her parents had always been good to her. For a long time she’d taken it as her due. They’d been supportive, but from a distance. Happy with her achievements as long as she was happy. They didn’t normally get involved or rave with enthusiasm, though. They’d simply always been there when she needed them most. Like tonight. “Should we join the party?”
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