Love Redesigned

by Jenny Proctor

“Did you do a lot of the wedding planning?”

  “Not too much. She had an actual wedding planner, Roberto somebody, so I just ended up with the overflow stuff. When she would get wild ideas and wanted to prove to Roberto they were possible.”

  “Like renting peacocks.”

  “Or having a pod of dolphins swimming in the cove behind the house.”

  “She didn’t really ask for that,” I said.

  “Oh, she did,” Dani responded. “I mean, it isn’t happening. I called every Aquarium in Florida, the local university’s marine biology program, and the coast guard and they all laughed at the request. Sasha sent me home early that day. Said I was too incompetent to spend another minute in her presence.”

  “Ouch.”

  Dani shrugged. “She apologized the next day and took me to lunch at The Vine. Which is generally how she operated. Impossible one minute, then incredibly nice the next. It was exhausting, trying to keep up.”

  “I’m surprised you made it as long as you did.”

  “In retrospect, I am too. Though I was so blinded by my own stupid ambition, maybe I’m not really surprised.”

  We reached the door to the pool house, nestled over on the left side of the grounds beyond a grove of palm trees. I paused, my hand resting on the knob. I thought about Dani’s collection of LeFranc purses I’d seen in her garage. “I’m sorry you had to lose that.”

  Her expression softened. “Thanks, but I don’t know that I am sorry anymore. In my head, LeFranc embodied everything I thought high fashion should be. It was above reproach. I think I let that blind devotion influence me too much. I spent all my time only thinking about what kind of designer LeFranc would want me to be.”

  “But that makes sense if you were trying to get a job designing for LeFranc.”

  “True.” She hesitated, like she was afraid to say what came next.

  I opened the door to the pool house and motioned her inside.

  “But what if I don’t want to design for somebody else? What if I want to design as me?” She paused and looked around, surprise filling her eyes. “Wow. This is the pool house? It’s amazing.”

  “Wait until you see the view.” I walked across the living room and opened the patio doors. The pool was a sparkling blue in the sunshine; just beyond it, the open water of the ocean shone a bright, brilliant turquoise.

  Dani stared, her eyes wide. “This place is magical,” she said. “You spent every summer here?”

  The sea breeze lifted a strand of her blonde hair and tossed it across her cheek. I barely resisted the urge to brush it away before she reached up and tucked it behind her ear. “We spent more time in Manhattan,” I said. “But yes. We were always here for at least a few weeks, maybe a month or so, every summer. Christmas was always here, and Thanksgiving when I came for that.”

  “I can’t even imagine,” Dani said. “I thought I was lucky growing up in Charleston, but this takes the beach to a whole new level.”

  I pushed my hands into my pockets, the safest way to keep myself from touching her. “Hey,” I said.

  She turned to face me. “What?”

  “I think you’d be great designing on your own.”

  She grinned. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  There was so much more I wanted to say. To ask. Would she go back to New York to do it? Would she stay in Charleston? Did this version of her future have room for me in it?

  She bit the side of her bottom lip and looked at me in a way that spoke of possibility. “It would be really risky,” she finally said. “I might not make it. Especially if Sasha works against me.”

  “But you might. And you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

  She nodded, looking back out toward the ocean. “It’s hard to let go, Alex. One minute I think I can do it, and then the next it’s like I don’t even know myself anymore and I just want things to be the way they were before, when I still believed designing for LeFranc was a possibility.”

  But what about me? What about us? The question pulsed through my brain, willing me to open my mouth and ask her.

  I took a step backward. “I should get our bags from the car.”

  “Right,” she said, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I’ll just wait here if that’s okay.”

  I left her staring into the Atlantic and headed back to the front drive to move the car and get our bags. I’d wanted to ask her, but I couldn’t do it. If I’d asked, she might have answered. And I still wasn’t sure she was willing to give the only answer I wanted to hear.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Dani

  While Alex went to park the car and retrieve our bags—all but the wedding dress which we felt was probably better hidden in the trunk of his car—I wandered around the pool house. It was nicely decorated, comfortable, but not showy or gaudy in any way. Pictures of Alicio’s sons filled the living room, snapshots from their youth of them swimming in the ocean behind the house, paddle boarding, surfing, eating ice cream on the small boardwalk that led down to the water from the house. Alex was conspicuously absent from all but a few photos. In those few, he never looked very comfortable; he seemed to be hovering on the fringes of the photos, in the frame, but not really a part.

  But then, he hadn’t been around nearly as much, only spending a few months out of the year with his mom and Alicio’s family. Maybe that was enough to justify the disparity.

  In the wide hallway that led to the bedroom, a large, family portrait hung across from an ornately framed mirror. Victor and Gabriel were maybe twelve and fourteen years old in the photo. They posed with their parents on the beach, the blue waves crashing behind them. Their father looked flawlessly tanned, not too different from the Alicio I’d caught glimpses of around the office, except that his hair was dark instead of the snow-white he now sported. He had his arm around Alex’s mom, her hand resting loosely on Gabriel’s shoulder. It was the perfect family photo, except Alex wasn’t in it.

  Sadness swelled inside as I thought of him coming home each summer, seeing the portrait, and countless others undoubtedly just like it. She was his Mom, and yet, looking at the photo, you’d never know she had any other children.

  A noise sounded behind me and I turned, attempting, and likely failing, to wipe the sadness from my face.

  Alex followed my gaze back to the portrait.

  “She was your Mom,” I said sadly. “How could she—”

  “She did the best she could,” Alex said, cutting me off. He stalked past me into the bedroom, dropping my overnight bag onto the fluffy duvet that lay across the bed. His hands now free, he shoved them into his pockets. “It was a glamorous life. I think she got swept up in it all. Plus, I chose to live with my father. I think a part of her always resented that choice.”

  “But still,” I said. A part of me knew I should let it go. Stop pushing. But the injustice of Alex’s position as an outsider in the family his own mother had been such a vital part of felt blatant. “Didn’t she fight for you? How could she exclude you like this?”

  “She did the best she could,” he repeated. “And she did fight for me. For my education to be paid for, for the car, the job. She wanted me to be successful.” There was a hollow note to his words that I couldn’t help but notice. The words he wasn’t saying almost told me more. Money, she had given him without question. But time? Attention? Acceptance? Had Alex ever gotten enough of that?

  Suddenly, I understood on a deeper level why Alex had been so driven to discover Sasha’s crimes. This was about so much more than a wedding dress. It was about Alex saving Alicio’s company. He wasn’t just seeking vindication. He was seeking acceptance.

  Later that night, my thoughts kept returning to the family portrait in the hall.

  What must it have felt like for Alex when he spoke out about troubles at LeFranc, and his girlfriend sided with the company rather than him? A knot formed in my stomach. He’d spent his entire life watching his mom choose the LeFrancs. When he’d come to me—the
one person who should have been on his side no matter what—I’d defended Sasha. Told him multiple times he was overreacting.

  I’d picked LeFranc. Just like his mom.

  No wonder he’d left me.

  I’d hurt him in the worst possible way.

  It took hours for me to fall asleep. Twice I crossed the room, opening the bedroom door determined to wake Alex, who slept on the living room sofa, apologize, and tell him I finally understood why he’d left so abruptly. Both times I chickened out, closing the door and huffing back to bed. How would he react? Would he accept my apology? Would he trust me again? He’d said he never stopped wanting me. But I wanted him to love me. Because—Paige would be happy to hear me acknowledge she’d been right all along—I had never stopped loving him.

  Early the next morning, I sat on the side of the pool, my feet swirling in the cool, blue water, and called Paige. Though it was not quite seven a.m., she answered on the first ring. I sighed with relief when I heard her voice. I no longer had the guarantee that she’d be up with the children since she’d officially given up her nannying job, but I’d hoped she would answer anyway. I needed the clarity only a conversation with Paige could bring.

  “Dani! How are you? How’s Florida?”

  “Oh, good. I was afraid I’d woken you up.”

  “Nope. Just got back from a run. Are you avoiding my question? How’s Florida?”

  I’d told Paige I was simply attending the wedding with Alex, that he felt obligated to go and try and make amends with his stepfather. She still had no idea we were attempting to get back her dress. “It’s warm,” I said. “And beautiful. Alicio’s house is unbelievable. We’re staying in the pool house and even just that is amazing.”

  “Have you seen Sasha yet?” Paige asked.

  “No. But I promise to kick her in the shins for you when I do. How’s wedding prep going?”

  “Let’s see. My job for today is to convince my mother she does not, eight days before the wedding, need to have the caterer add five different kinds of shrimp to the appetizer list. Five, Dani. Who needs five kinds of shrimp at one dinner?”

  “A Pinckney, of course,” I answered in an exaggerated Southern drawl.

  “Yeah, yeah. So seriously. How has it been? How are you and Alex?” she asked.

  I told her about the portrait I’d seen hanging in the pool house bedroom, as well as the chilly reception we’d received from Victor. “It all seems so clear now,” I concluded. “When I saw that portrait with him not in it, everything that happened between us made a new kind of sense. I was never fair to him, Paige. I didn’t mean to do it, but in his eyes, I chose LeFranc over him. It was the worst kind of betrayal.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “I have to tell him how I feel. Convince him that I recognize now that there’s more to life than fashion. That I’m not willing to put my career over the people who are most important in my life.”

  “Do you think he still cares about you?” Paige asked gently. “I’m with you a hundred percent, Dani, but I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

  “No, he does. He’s . . . he’s told me he does.”

  She squealed. “Then go get him! Find a way to tell him. The sooner, the better.”

  Three hours later, Alex and I leaned on the counter of the pool house kitchen and went over our plans for the day.

  First, find Sasha. Ingratiate myself enough that she’ll allow me to assist her until the wedding.

  Second, find the right moment to swap out the dress, relying on Chase who, after arriving as the most obnoxiously early wedding guest ever, will rendezvous with Alex to get the replacement dress and bring it to me to facilitate the swap.

  Finally, meet Isaac, on standby with the floral delivery van, at the back door with Paige’s dress. Make sure Alex knows so that at the same time, he can find Alicio, tell him everything he discovered about Sasha/Sally Mabel Rivers, and provide proof of her embezzlement.

  Timing was key.

  If Sasha found out about the dress before Alex had the chance to talk to Alicio, it was possible she’d have a first-class tantrum and create so much of a distraction, Alicio would no longer listen to Alex. If Alicio heard of Sasha’s deceit before the dress was safely off the premises, it might lead to a confrontation that would eliminate my access to both Sasha, and the dress. Alex and I would have to stay in constant communication to avoid both scenarios.

  “You’re nervous,” Alex said, looking my way.

  Ha. He had no idea. I was nervous enough about stealing a wedding dress, but the thing that had me really feeling queasy? Standing next to him. Feeling the warmth from his skin when my arm brushed against his, or the heat flood my cheeks when he held my gaze for an extra-long moment.

  The words were hovering at the front of my mind.

  I’m sorry I betrayed you.

  I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.

  I still love you.

  But I couldn’t say them. Not yet. Not here.

  “Nervous, yes,” I said. “But determined. Paige deserves to wear her dress.”

  “Do we have a contingency plan?” he asked. “If Sasha doesn’t want to take you back?”

  I chewed on my lower lip. “I guess I have to hope I’ll at least get close enough to see where she’s keeping the dress. Then hopefully I’ll find a way to sneak back in and make the swap.”

  He reached over and closed his hand over mine, giving it a quick squeeze. “Let’s do this,” he said. “I’m sure Sasha is up and beginning her preparations. I’ll walk you over and point you in the right direction.”

  I stood, smoothing the fabric of my dress. It was Chase’s creation this time—floral silk in shades of purple that fit and flowed in all the right places. He’d pulled the fabric out of my stash and made it while I was working on Sasha’s replacement dress. I’d never had something custom made that I hadn’t made myself; it was a treat to be the beneficiary of Chase’s impeccable taste and skill.

  Alex shrugged on his suit coat and I noticed, as always, that he was equally dressed to impress. His suit was a light gray, his tie a deep shade of purple that was a nice compliment to my dress. He reached for a tiny box that was sitting on the kitchen counter. I hadn’t even noticed it until he grabbed it. “I almost forgot,” he said, opening the box. “Isaac gave this to me yesterday in case you wanted to use it.”

  I leaned forward. I couldn’t even see what it was he was holding up. It was the size of a pea, maybe? And made out of what looked like clear plastic. “What is it?”

  “It’s a Bluetooth headset,” Alex said. “Just in case you need to call one of us without letting Sasha know.”

  He held out the device and I took it, careful not to drop it. We’d never find the thing again if I did. “It’s so tiny.”

  “I don’t think they’re available commercially yet. It was sent to Isaac for review. Here.” He held out his hand. “Where’s your phone? I’ll pair it for you.”

  I pulled my phone out of my bag and unlocked it before handing it over, realizing a second too late that I maybe didn’t want him to see the wallpaper on my home screen. Because it was him. Us. A photo of the two of us all wrapped up in each other’s arms. We’d taken it the night after we’d seen Hamilton. The first night we’d kissed. The night I knew I’d fallen in love with him.

  I should have changed the photo. Paige had insisted I’d never actually get over him if I didn’t. But every time I’d pulled up my phone’s settings and scrolled through my photos to pick something new, I hadn’t been able to do it.

  He took one look before his eyes darted back to mine. He held my gaze, his unspoken question hanging in the air between us.

  I gave my head a small shake, my shoulders rising into a shrug. “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s from the night we saw Hamilton. I guess I never got around to changing it.”

  He looked back at the photo. “That was a great night.”

  “Yeah, it . . . I’m sorry, can you gi
ve me a minute? Go ahead and pair the device. I’ll be right back.” I hurried into the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom where I’d slept the night before and gripped the shiny porcelain of the pedestal sink. What was the matter with me? It was as if the realization that yes, I wanted to be with Alex had completely upended my entire world. I had to get a grip. I forced a long breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. Then followed it with another, and another.

  Back in the pool house kitchen, Alex was standing up, waiting for me. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded. “Just nervous, I guess.”

  He held up the Bluetooth. “Maybe you could wear it on this side?” He motioned to my left. “It will be hidden that way.”

  My hair was swept over to the side, pinned in a loose bun just below my ear. If worn in my left ear, it would be completely concealed by my hair. I took the device from Alex and pushed it into place. “Is it in right?”

  His fingers brushed against my hair, moving it out of the way so he could look. I took another deep breath, hoping he didn’t notice how his touch made gooseflesh rise up and down my arms. “Looks good,” he said softly.

  His fingers lingered for a moment longer, tickling my neck. He cleared his throat and stepped back. “Ready to go?”

  The kitchen was bustling, the catering staff already at work in preparation for the day’s events. We got a few odd looks as we walked through, but no one stopped us. I followed as Alex led me through the house, pausing at the bottom of the stairs we’d seen Victor come down the afternoon before.

  “Up these stairs and to the left,” Alex said. “You’ll pass through a set of French doors and then the master suite is on your right.”

  I nodded. “Got it.”

  “All you have to do is push the button here”—he motioned to his ear—“and it will call me. My number is already pulled up on your phone.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “And your phone is in your bag?”

  I nodded, gripping my clutch a little tighter. “Yep.”

  He gave my hand one final squeeze. “Good luck.”