“Perfect. That’s what I wanted to hear.” She pulled her handbag onto her shoulder and slipped a pair of sunglasses onto her face. “If that’s all taken care of, I’m going to head out early.”
“One quick reminder,” I said before she’d gotten passed me. “I have the day off tomorrow.”
She paused and lifted her sunglasses, her lips pursed into a frown. “Did I know about this?”
“You did. For my best friend’s bridal shower.”
Her face fell. “Oh. Right. I suppose I do remember. Well, enjoy your weekend.”
She paused as she passed by, her finger tracing the edge of the sketchbook I’d inadvertently left on the desk when Chase had bombarded me with flower news. “What’s this?”
I quickly pulled the sketchbook away and closed it. “It’s nothing. Just some doodling.”
She gave me a curious look. “It looked like a wedding gown.”
I shrugged and held the sketchbook tightly against my chest. “Oh, you know how it is. Single girls always dreaming of their weddings.”
“Sure,” she said, her brow furrowed. “Well, all right then. I guess I’ll see you Monday.”
I watched her walk down the hallway until she turned the corner toward the elevator and disappeared out of sight. I took a deep breath and opened the sketchbook to the page Sasha had seen.
I would design dresses for Sasha all day. Dresses, pants, jackets, whatever she wanted for LeFranc, I’d do it. But this? This was mine.
It wasn’t the first wedding dress I’d designed, but it was by far the prettiest. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever designed, period. And that’s what my roommate, Paige, deserved. She’d been my best friend since elementary school and had more than earned her right to a custom dress. Paige had spent hours as a human dress form while I pinned and tucked and draped fabric over her body, then graciously performed runway shows for my parents, she the only model, and I, the glowing designer taking the stage at the end of the show. A wedding dress was the least I could do. My fingers started to itch just looking at the sketch. It was already half-sewn back at my apartment, and I couldn’t wait to finish it.
Thoughts of working on Paige’s dress only half-distracted me from the flower box perched on the edge of my desk. The flowers, and all that they stood for.
Alex worked with Isaac.
Alex would be at dinner.
Alex.
Alex.
Alex.
Chapter Four
Alex
I stood in front of the restaurant, nervously looking up and down the street. It was still fifteen minutes before Dani was supposed to arrive, but fifteen minutes didn’t feel like enough cushion. The last thing I wanted was for her to show up while I was standing out front talking to Alicio.
Well, probably not Alicio. I doubted he’d show up himself. He’d said he had something to give me, but Alicio rarely did anything he could have someone else do for him.
A sleek, black car pulled up in front of the restaurant, slowing to a stop. I took a step forward, anxiety gripping my gut with an unyielding fist. I hadn’t seen anyone from my stepfamily in almost a year.
Gabriel climbed out of the car and the tension in my shoulders eased.
“Alex,” he said, a surprising measure of warmth in his voice. He held out his hand. “It’s good to see you.”
We shook hands and I nodded. “Good to see you too. How are . . . how’s everything, I guess?”
Gabriel raised his eyebrows as if surprised I had even asked. “Good. Great. And you?”
I’d never been close with either of the LeFranc brothers. A few years older than me, they’d considered me little more than a nuisance growing up. But Gabriel hadn’t been as cruel as his brother. Whenever Mom had wanted me to feel welcome during my summer and holiday visits, she’d always used Gabriel as her emissary. That she had sensed some measure of good in him and trusted him not to be a jerk went a long way; I suddenly wondered if he’d volunteered to come and meet me, if he’d understood he was the only one that might manage the task civilly.
I shrugged. “I can’t complain. It’s nice to be back in the city.”
The silence stretched between us until Gabriel cleared his throat and pulled an envelope out of his suit pocket. “Right. So I’m supposed to give you this.” He held out the envelope.
I took it and opened it long enough to check the contents. A magnetic key to a storage facility in Chelsea sat inside. I nodded, slipping the envelope into my own pocket. “Thanks.”
“There isn’t much in it,” Gabriel said. “Some furniture. A few photo albums and jewelry. Some artwork. I guess when Sasha started moving stuff around at home, she wanted to just get rid of it.”
I narrowed my gaze. “She would have thrown away my mother’s old photo albums?”
Gabriel shrugged. “They were from before she married into the family. She probably assumed you had your own copies.”
I scoffed. “Right.”
“Anyway. You have Justine to thank for saving it all. She’s been paying the storage fee out of her own pocket so it might be nice for you to compensate her for all that. She was the one that asked Alicio to reach out to you.”
Suddenly the entire situation made a lot more sense. The text from Alicio a few weeks back had been unexpected, but Justine—his housekeeper—had always been kind to me. That she was behind the gesture was less surprising.
“Right,” I said again. “I’ll take care of it.”
Gabriel stepped back toward the car. “I guess that’s it then.”
“Thanks, Gabe,” I said. “I appreciate you meeting me.”
He opened the car door, pausing before climbing inside. “They’re going to invite you to the wedding.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“It’ll be in Florida. On Islamorada. Victor’s probably going to call you and tell you not to come. But you should ignore him and come anyway.” He shrugged. “If you want.”
It was a very small olive branch, and only from one member of the family, but even that was more than I’d expected.
“Just think about it,” he said before I could respond. Then he climbed into the car and was gone.
I moved into the restaurant and sat next to Isaac, trying to sort out my thoughts. I would sometimes go months without giving the LeFrancs more than a passing thought. I did not need them in my life; I didn’t really even want them in my life. Yet, Gabriel’s invitation had felt sincere enough to trigger a dormant hope for something I’d never gotten among the LeFrancs. Acceptance.
I didn’t like what that said about me. I wasn’t supposed to still care. I didn’t care.
At least, I thought I didn’t.
I drummed my fingers on the table and glanced at my watch. 7:34. I’d been nervous all afternoon about seeing Dani again, but I suddenly welcomed the distraction she’d be. Four minutes wasn’t really all that late, and yet, I couldn’t keep myself from glancing toward the door every fifteen seconds.
“Alex,” Isaac said, his voice dry. “You’re going to pull a muscle if you don’t relax and sit still.”
I huffed and settled back into my chair. “Shut up.”
“Why are you so stressed out about seeing her? I thought it was all over between you two.”
“It is. It . . . was. You just could have given me some warning. I don’t appreciate seeing her again under these circumstances.”
Isaac gave his head a derisive shake and reached for his phone. “Under what circumstances? Don’t pretend like this is my doing. It’s not like I kept you chained to the radiator in Charleston. You could have come up to see her anytime. Whatever you feel right now is completely on you.”
My jaw tensed with frustration, but Isaac was right. As much as I hated to admit it, I was the only one responsible for the awkwardness between Dani and me. And that was the problem. Shame was a very uncomfortable feeling.
While Isaac was good at spouting off generalities regarding my relationship history with his sister
, in truth, he didn’t know much about what had happened between us. Isaac was a friend, but he liked to keep things surface level. I had my own theories about why that was, revolving largely around personal insecurities and fear of rejection—one didn’t spend years (or at least summers) in family therapy without picking up a few scraps of useful information—but I hardly had room to throw mental health diagnoses at Isaac. I was clearly just as much a mess as he was. I was, after all, the one who had walked out on Dani. The one who had walked out on everything.
I took a deep breath and rolled my neck, cracking it on one side, then the other—a vain attempt to clear my head. When I looked up, Dani approached the table.
I stood, my breath lodged in my throat. She looked amazing. Her blonde hair was . . . and her blue eyes . . . and her dress. I’d seen it before. It was the dress she’d had on when we first met.
I’d first spoken to Dani on the balcony of an apartment on the Upper East Side, at a party I’d had no desire to attend. I’d only been there because my stepbrothers had dragged me along, insisting it was part of my responsibility to “represent the brand,” to think of “the family image.” It wasn’t that I didn’t like fashion. I’d always appreciated a well-tailored suit, but I didn’t like the networking. The fierce competition. The hobnobbing with socialites. Working for LeFranc, I was required to be on display at all times. It was exhausting.
But then I’d seen Dani, the wind lifting the curls from her neck, and my heart had nearly stopped. She’d been having a conversation with my stepbrother, Victor, and looked so uncomfortable, I’d immediately decided she needed rescuing. It wasn’t a stretch to assume Victor was being rude to her, so I took a gamble and lied, telling Victor his secretary had called me looking for him. As soon as he excused himself to call her back, I took his place on the balcony next to Dani.
“Seriously, thank you,” Dani had said as soon as Victor was out of earshot. “Even a LeFranc isn’t worth the way he stared at me.”
“Like he’s a lion, and you’re lunch?” I’d said. “He’s my stepbrother. Unfortunately, he doesn’t improve with time.”
“Stepbrother,” she’d repeated. “So you’re a LeFranc too?”
I’d never actually cared about being a LeFranc until that moment. Until I realized how much Dani wanted me to say yes. I should have recognized her desire as the warning it was. “I’m not as much of a LeFranc as Victor,” I’d said instead, “but Alicio still claims me and lets me work for him. That must count for something.”
She smiled wide, the sight making my breath catch in my throat. “It definitely counts.” She held her hand out. “I’m Dani. Danielle, actually. But friends call me Dani.”
Her hand had felt warm and soft in mine. We’d spent the rest of the evening together after that, and then I’d walked her home.
We’d had lunch the following day, and dinner the next Friday, texting multiple times a day in between. After that, things had happened quickly. For almost a year we were nearly inseparable.
Until I’d left.
A new wave of shame washed over me. For a moment I wondered if she’d worn the same dress on purpose. Was she trying to tell me something? Remind me of something?
If so, she’d hit the mark. She left me speechless. I swallowed and willed myself to breath slowly. “Hi,” I managed, my voice strangled and cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hello.”
She met my eyes only briefly, a small smile of acknowledgment flitting across her face before she settled her gaze on her brother, who still sat at the table, his gaze glued to his phone.
“It’s nice to see you too, little brother,” Dani said.
Isaac held up his hand, one finger raised in the air, while his other hand continued to tap something out on the screen. A few seconds more passed before he nodded, turning his phone over with a thud of finality. “There. Done.” He stood and pulled his sister into a hug, though from my view, neither of them seemed particularly happy about the physical contact.
“How are you doing, Dandelion?” Isaac asked as we all sat at the table.
I watched Dani cringe at the nickname, her hand reflexively reaching for her hair. She’d told me once how much she hated it—I remembered the conversation—but I couldn’t remember where it had come from. Isaac would tell me, and probably jump at the chance to embarrass his sister, but the look on Dani’s face warned me away from the subject.
“You’re never going to stop with that, are you?” Dani asked as she opened her menu.
Isaac grinned. “Not as long as I know how much it bugs you.”
She pursed her lips but didn’t look up, her eyes flitting from one thing to another far too fast to actually be reading them.
“It was nice of you to share your reservation with us,” I said, glancing from Dani to Isaac and back to Dani again. “Rao’s isn’t an easy table to get.”
Dani looked up, her expression sharp. “It’s easy enough for a LeFranc,” she said, an air of . . . something in her voice. “Sasha is a very generous boss.”
My fist clenched under the table. So that’s how the evening was going to go? I leaned back, not breaking Dani’s gaze and raised my eyebrows. “Yes, Sasha is very good at getting what she wants.”
Dani smiled, her lips tight. “Isn’t that part of being successful? Getting what you want isn’t such a bad thing.”
I wanted to keep pushing. Getting what you want at the expense of everyone else hardly made you successful. But Sasha’s problems ran much deeper than being a little bit of a cutthroat. She was a criminal, guilty of fraud and extortion.
At least, I thought she was.
I’d only been working on the financial side of LeFranc a couple of months when I’d started seeing things that didn’t line up. But I wasn’t important enough to have access to all of LeFranc’s accounts and couldn’t really dig for answers without it. Then my stepfather had threatened to disinherit me if I continued to ask questions. That had made it easy to walk away.
But that wasn’t an argument I could have with Dani. I’d tried. The last conversation we’d had before I left New York had ended in an argument about my suspicions.
Dani loved working for Sasha and had insisted I was wrong. She had even gone so far as to suggest I disliked Sasha simply because she was marrying Alicio, somehow replacing the memory of my mother. Funny—Alicio had made the same argument.
“I take it things at work are still going well,” I said. That Dani had so quickly reminded me of her loyalty to Sasha, and to LeFranc, left a bitter taste in my mouth and reminded me of why I’d felt like I’d had to leave in the first place.
A shadow of doubt flitted across her face, but she shook it off so quickly, I wondered if I’d imagined it. “Things are great,” she said. “Better than ever.”
I narrowed my gaze. Dani had a glass face. Her words were telling me one story, but it wasn’t one that matched her emotions.
A surge of anger pulsed through me. Anger at Sasha, at Alicio, even at Dani for falling victim to Sasha’s duplicity. Someone was eventually going to get hurt, and it killed that I was powerless to stop it.
Chapter Five
Dani
Even with all afternoon to prepare for Alex’s presence at dinner, it was still ridiculous to see him sitting there next to Isaac. Taking myself completely out of the equation, I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around the idea of him working with my brother.
Alex was Armani suits and perfect hair. He loved art museums and classical music. I mean, he’d had season tickets to the New York Philharmonic. The only classical music Isaac had ever intentionally heard was my eighth-grade orchestra recital in which I’d very badly played the cello. To imagine my video game playing, tech nerd brother hiring a Harvard-educated accountant? It didn’t add up.
“So, how did this happen?” I said, motioning to the two of them.
They glanced at each other.
Alex cleared his throat as if to answer, but Isaac beat him to it. “Random I has bee
n doing really well. Well enough it seemed like having a business manager was a smart move.”
That didn’t come close to answering my question. I mean, Isaac having a business manager was still a lot to swallow. But he’d hired my ex-boyfriend. I needed more explanation. I looked at Alex.
He appeared sheepish, as if he knew Isaac’s answer hadn’t really addressed my concerns. Well, good. Served him right.
“All the accountants in the world, Isaac, and you hire my ex-boyfriend?” I raised my eyebrows.
At least Alex had the good sense not to say anything. He kept his eyes down, his hand resting on the table beside his plate.
“I didn’t want just anybody,” Isaac said. “I knew I could trust Alex. You seemed to like him okay. I figured that was a good endorsement. Plus, have you seen the man’s resume?”
“But he didn’t work for me; he was my boyfriend. How is that an endorsement?”
“If he were dishonest, or a criminal, or a terrible person, he wouldn’t have been your boyfriend. Seems pretty straight forward to me. Plus, he was already in Charleston. Hiring local meant I didn’t have to offer a relocation package.”
Weirdly enough, Alex had grown up not ten minutes from my childhood home back in South Carolina, though we’d definitely run in different circles. My parents had done pretty well for themselves, and we’d lived in a nice part of town, but we were new Charleston money. The kind that lived in the suburbs. We played on Charleston’s historic peninsula. Shopped there. Ate there. Walked through the waterfront parks. But we didn’t live on the peninsula. That took an entirely different kind of money. The kind that went back generations to when streets were made of cobblestone and everyone had names like Alexander Ellison Randall III. It wasn’t weird that Alex had gone back to Charleston when he’d left New York.
It was weird that he’d started working for Isaac.
“What if we broke up because he’s dishonest and a terrible person?”
Isaac rolled his eyes. “That isn’t why you broke up. I talked to Mom.”
Love Redesigned Page 4