by Stacy Finz
Delaney was coming to the conclusion that this supposedly friendly end of the summer race was even more competitive than she’d originally thought.
“Jack,” TJ responded.
“Deb,” Felix, the owner, bellowed, “no time for chitchat.” He pointed to the line that had formed outside on the sidewalk.
“Gotta go.” Deb took off to take orders from the other tables.
TJ cut into his biscuits and gravy, and Delaney wondered how he could eat that way and stay so trim.
“What if besides buying the design, we gave you a cut of the profits?” he asked in between bites. “My idea is to eventually do an online store. We could be talking big money.”
“I’ll think about it, TJ.” Which she would. “But it would be a big change from what I do and I have to be certain that it won’t hurt my commercial image.”
He nodded in understanding. “Still, it seems a shame to let such a good design go to waste. With a few modifications, they could be the Rolls-Royce of cargo pants.”
Not that she wanted to be known for creating the “Rolls-Royce” of cargo pants, but she was inquisitive about the modifications. At the same time, she didn’t want to encourage TJ.
“So are you and my brother seeing each other?” he asked.
“No.” The man certainly cut to the chase. “We’re just neighbors.”
“Really? I got the impression the other night that maybe you two might be dating. Ever since . . . uh, he doesn’t get out much.”
“Ever since Lisa?”
TJ just about spit his coffee out. “He told you about her?”
“Yes. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”
“It’s not. The whole damn town saw what she did to him. He’s the one who never talks about it. What did he say?”
“I suppose if he wanted you to know, he would’ve told you.”
TJ smiled. “You’re all right, Delaney Scott.”
* * *
After lunch Delaney popped into Glorious Gifts and browsed while Hannah helped a customer. Hannah had a lot of beautiful items in the store. Delaney checked the handbag inventory to make sure Hannah had gotten the new order.
“I can’t keep them in the shop,” Hannah said. “I’ve already sold half of the new shipment.” She finished ringing up the shopper and afterward came over to Delaney. “You here to check inventory or are you shopping?”
“I just had lunch with TJ.”
Hannah gave her a quizzical look and Delaney explained about his idea to sell the cargo pants.
“You made pants for Colt? That was awfully nice. I thought you two were like cat and dog.”
“We’ve called a truce.” And now we kiss.
“Are you thinking of doing the pants, then?”
“I told TJ I would consider it, but it’s not really the direction I want to go.” But if the court made her take the Delaney Scott name off her existing shoes and handbags, she might have to find a new revenue stream. “What do you think of Garner Adventure selling merchandise?”
“Josh thinks they’re stretched too thin as it is. But honestly, I think it’s a brilliant idea, especially if they open an online store. They’ll probably have to hire someone with retail expertise and that won’t be me. I know retail but nothing about adventure wear and sporting equipment.”
Delaney nodded. “Same here.”
They chatted for a while and then the store got busy again. Delaney said good-bye and decided to stroll down Main Street. For a Wednesday, the boardwalk was busy, full of bicyclists and pedestrians, taking advantage of the last days of summer before school started. She splurged on a piece of chocolate at Oh Fudge! and got a loaf of bread at Tart Me Up. As she passed Old Glory, she noticed a poster promoting Colt’s band. He was playing the night of the End-of-Summer races. The show must’ve been what he’d been talking about on the phone the other day. She made a mental note to put it on her calendar.
“You going?”
She looked up from the picture of Colt on the poster to see him in the flesh.
“I was thinking I might,” she said. “Where are you off to?”
“To pick up a late lunch at the Morning Glory and take it back to my office.”
“I was just there with your brother.”
She saw something flicker in those brown eyes of his but couldn’t quite identify it. Whatever it was, he hadn’t looked happy.
“Win?”
“No, TJ. He wanted to talk to me about the cargo pants and shorts I made you and an idea for selling merchandise.”
Colt seemed to relax. “I told him you wouldn’t be interested. But TJ is pushy that way.”
“I was flattered. I told him I’d think about it.”
“But you’re not, right?”
She shrugged. “He’s so enthusiastic about it that I hate to say no. There may be a way to work something out. I’d have to talk to my people first.”
“It’s up to you. But TJ will understand if you’re not interested. Garner Adventure is small-time compared to the retailers you sell your stuff to. The design is great, though. I’d hate to see it go to waste, especially when you could make a mint from the pants.”
“TJ seemed to think it needed a few modifications.” That had sort of peeved her, which of course was her pride. She certainly wasn’t an expert in adventure wear.
“Did he now?” He took her arm and headed toward the diner. “Walk with me.”
“Do you think they need modifications?”
He pondered it for a bit. “The fit and weight are great, but there are a few things you could do with the pockets that would make them more user-friendly for guides, something more akin to tactical pants.”
“What are tactical pants?”
“They’re close to cargo pants and originally worn by mountain climbers. Cops, soldiers, and firefighters wear them because they’re made specifically to hold their gear, including a heavy gun belt, knives, and cuffs.”
“So more pockets?”
“Maybe not more but configured differently. The pants should have side zips at the bottom of the legs so you can put them on over your crampons and boots.”
“What are crampons?”
“A metal plate with spikes that you put on your boots to walk on ice or rock climb. I’d also include a gusseted crotch for freedom of movement and a little more stretch in the fabric, especially for rock climbers operating in the snow.”
“I never realized how much performance was required from adventure wear. What brands come close to doing all of this?” She’d like to check them out just for the sake of it.
He rattled off a short list. Most of the brands were familiar but she didn’t own anything from the companies.
“It’s a whole different objective than what I do, which is to be fashion forward and flatter the human figure.”
He nodded, then let his eyes roam over her body. His inspection gave her goose bumps.
“You design that?”
She looked down at her white pencil pants and cropped linen jacket. “I did.”
“Then I’d say it’s working, especially the figure part.”
“Was that a compliment on my work or are you flirting with me?”
“I guess both.” The corner of his mouth ticked up.
“Then why did you make such a big point of telling me that you had a hands-off policy when it comes to local women?” She said it with a smile, but he was sending mixed signals.
“Last I looked, I didn’t have my hands on you.”
“You know what I mean.”
He nodded solemnly. “You’re right. My bad, and I apologize.” Colt pointed to the entrance of the Morning Glory. “This is where I get off.”
She went her separate way, wondering what game he was playing. He certainly acted interested for a man who so much as said he wasn’t. Whatever, she told herself. He clearly found her attractive, and if nothing else his compliments gave her a nice boost.
When she got home she went on the Internet
to search the brands of pants Colt had told her about. She really should’ve worked on her own stuff but looking at other people’s designs was better than failing at her own. Blowing up a couple of the pictures, she saw what Colt was talking about. The clothes appeared highly functional but definitely lacked in the aesthetics department. Dull colors, boxy fit, and plain old unimaginative. No reason why someone couldn’t be fashionable while climbing the side of a mountain as long as the clothing performed. She got out the pattern she’d used for Colt’s shorts and pants and started to improvise.
Before she knew it, it was dark outside and she had a new pair of pants she thought were better than the first. Only one way to find out. Delaney didn’t want to make the same mistake twice by traipsing over to Colt’s. This time she searched her phone for his number and gave him a jingle.
“Everything okay?” he answered.
“Yes, why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t think you’ve ever called me before.” No, she just showed up in the wee hours of the morning, making a fool of herself.
“I made another pair of pants, incorporating some of the elements we talked about.” She waited for him to say something but he didn’t. “I wanted to see what you think.”
“I’m at my parents’ right now for dinner.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll let you go.”
She was just about to disconnect when he said, “I’ll be home in about an hour. You want me to stop by?”
“You don’t have to. I can just leave them on your doorstep and when you get a chance you can let me know what you think.”
“Okay. Delaney, why are you doing this?”
She wondered if he meant why was she bothering him. “Doing what?”
“Trying to perfect a pair of pants you don’t want to make in the first place.”
She let out a breath and shut her eyes. “Because right now it seems to be the only thing I’m good at.”
There was quiet on the other end of the line, then he said, “All right. Talk to you later.”
She gave the pants another good pressing, wrapped them in tissue, stuck them in a bag, crossed the driveway to Colt’s, and left the package where she said she would. When she returned home her answering machine was blinking. Delaney wondered if it was Liz with bad news. Her lawyer often called at odd hours because she was in court most of the day. She pressed the button, holding her breath.
“Hi, Delaney, it’s Karen. Call me as soon as you can. I’ll be up until eleven.”
She rang Karen’s number, wondering what was up. It wasn’t like her ex-office manager to call this late.
Karen picked up almost immediately, as if she were waiting for Delaney. “She’s driving us crazy.”
“Who is?”
“Olivia, the wicked bitch of the West. She’s demanding, moody, and mean. I almost quit today.”
“Oh no.” As much as Delaney felt competitive with Olivia, she didn’t want her former employees to be unhappy. “Don’t do that.”
“Why? She’s impossible to work with.”
“Because it’s a good job and Robert will talk to her.” Delaney was angry with him but Robert was a good employer. He wouldn’t want discord in the ranks.
“Robert bends to her every wish. It’s pathetic, Delaney. This thing with him wanting you to take your name off the existing shoes and handbags—that’s Olivia. She’s threatening to leave over it.”
Delaney wasn’t surprised. She’d suspected Olivia of pulling Robert’s strings. Olivia wanted to be the face of the new Delaney Scott and couldn’t do that if Delaney’s merchandise still carried the name.
“Give her a chance to assimilate. It’s got to be tough walking into a new house and filling the shoes of the designer who founded it.”
“I understand that, Delaney, I really do. But I’m done giving her more chances. I’ve given her too many already. I want to come work for you.”
There was nothing Delaney would like better. Bringing in Karen would solve her staffing problem. Karen had been with Delaney Scott for years and had the skill sets to oversee the entire operation from manufacturing to sales. While Delaney’s warehouse supervisor had been a saint to take on the extra responsibilities, the job called for someone like Karen.
“I would love to have you, Karen, but for all intents and purposes I’m starting from scratch. There’s no guarantee that my new company will thrive the way Delaney Scott does. After all these years, you deserve job security.”
“I’ll risk it.”
Delaney admired Karen’s loyalty. Still, it wouldn’t be fair to take her on if Karen didn’t know what she was getting herself into.
“Karen, do you know what I’ve been spending my days doing?” When Karen didn’t answer, she said, “I’ve been perfecting a design for cargo pants.”
Karen laughed as if it were a joke.
“My neighbor and his family own an adventure tour company. They want to sell my cargo pants. The reason I’m even entertaining the idea is because I can’t design anything else. I’m stuck, completely blocked. For all I know I’ll never be able to design again.”
“I thought your neighbor was the police chief of that little town and you couldn’t stand him.”
“He is, but we’ve buried the hatchet.” If Karen only knew. “Are you listening to me? I haven’t been able to put anything on paper since the divorce. A full year.”
“You’ll get it back,” Karen said, sounding so confident that Delaney almost believed her. “You’ve been under enormous stress. Not just with you and Robert breaking up, but with the settlement hearing. Losing a big chunk of everything you built has to be devastating, Delaney. Cut yourself some slack. Make cargo pants for a while. It can’t hurt.”
Delaney found it hard to believe, but she actually enjoyed creating the cargo pants. Or maybe she was just enjoying having Colt as a muse. If only she could visualize him in an evening gown.
“Can I come work for you?”
Delaney thought about it. There was nothing in the settlement that said she couldn’t employ former personnel from Robert’s company.
“If you want to take the chance, I’d love to have you.”
“Yay! I’ll give my two weeks and start with you in September if that works.”
“I could actually use your organizational skills at the warehouse.”
“When are you coming back to Los Angeles?” Karen asked.
“Not until I have a collection to show to investors. If I feel pressured now, could you imagine how bad it would be in LA?”
“You’ll come up with something fantastic and show up the wicked bitch of the West.”
Delaney appreciated the pep talk, but the thought of competing with Olivia made her stomach churn. What if she was done? Over? She hung up with Karen and proceeded to have a panic attack.
Chapter Twelve
The call came just as Colt was leaving his parents’ house. By the time he got to Old Glory, a man was being taken out of the bar on a stretcher. Another was being checked out by a paramedic. Broken bottles and shattered glassware littered the floor, and a couple of stools had been knocked over. Boden stood behind the bar looking angrier than Colt had ever seen him.
Two of Colt’s officers acknowledged him with nods and resumed interviewing their witnesses. Colt didn’t recognize either of the culprits, which probably meant they were out-of-towners.
“What happened?” he asked Boden.
“Destination wedding up at one of the resorts. The groom and best man decided to get their drink on early. Turns out the best man’s been boffing the bride-to-be and decides after three Jacks it’s time to confess. At least that’s my interpretation of what went down. I only caught snippets before the shit began to fly.”
“Who went out on the stretcher?”
“I believe that would be the best man.”
Colt glanced around, taking better stock of the damage. “You got insurance?”
“I do, but there’s a heavy deductible, which I
expect the wedding assholes to pay.”
“We’ll see what we can do.” He walked over to Dutch, who’d been on patrol with Glory Junction PD since Colt had been a boy, and pulled him aside. “Boden says it was a groom and best-man situation. Is that consistent with what you’re getting?”
“Yeah,” Dutch said, and snickered. “Apparently the wedding’s off.”
Colt stayed a while to make sure everything was done by the book. Weddings were the resorts’ bread and butter in the off-season. The last thing he needed was the mayor giving him hell about how the department handled a bar room brawl. He told Dutch and Bobby George, another veteran officer, to have their reports on his desk by morning in case Pond Scum tried to second-guess him, and then went home.
He found Delaney’s package on the doorstep. It was too late to knock on her door, especially since her lights were out. Colt took the bag inside and headed for the shower to wash off the day’s grime. Afterward, he unwrapped Delaney’s pants and examined the modifications closely before trying them on. Perfect, he thought to himself. If he thought the first pair was superior to anything on the market, these were even better. The woman had mad skills, that’s for sure.
Brains and beauty. Delaney Scott was the full package. And totally out of reach.
He didn’t get a chance the next morning to call and tell her how much he liked the new version of the cargo pants. TJ needed a substitute guide to take a group on a sunrise hike. The seventy-two-year-old former park ranger who usually conducted the nature walks for GA was having a hip replaced and wouldn’t be back until next summer. TJ hadn’t found a sub yet, so Colt was stuck filling in.
“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” he barked at TJ over his Bluetooth as he drove to the trailhead. “Why can’t Win or Josh do it? You do know that I have a full-time job, right?”
“Sorry,” TJ said, but didn’t sound sorry at all. “It was an emergency.”
“Didn’t Greta tell you about her hip replacement a month ago? A month’s notice is not an emergency; it’s bad planning. Besides, a nature hike? A freaking nature hike? Give me a break, TJ.”