I looked at Dani, love and hope and courage reflecting in her gaze. “Something came up,” I said. “We’ve got to head out early.”
I reached forward and grabbed the folder of information off the coffee table, still holding Dani’s hand, then walked to the study door. I paused, turning back. “You were never good enough for my mother,” I said to Alicio.
His eyes narrowed, but then his face fell into a frown. “I agree with you on that point.”
“I think she’s probably happy to be rid of you now,” I said. “I wish you and Sasha the best. You two deserve each other.”
I walked through the house and toward the back drive without slowing, though I could tell Dani was struggling to keep up with me. Still, she didn’t complain. She just clung to my hand, running every few steps to keep up with my long stride. When we arrived at the car, she hesitated beside the passenger side door I held open for her.
“Alex,” she said, still short of breath. She bit her lip. “Will you please just say something?”
I couldn’t, actually. What would I say? Speaking would require me to make sense of what I was feeling, and I was too much a mess to do that.
Instead, I leaned in and kissed her. She responded immediately, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling me closer than I would have thought possible.
“I’ve missed you,” I finally muttered into her hair.
She hiccoughed a laugh. “Yeah. Me too.”
“Sorry you didn’t get the dress.”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving with something much more important.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Dani
Six months later
Alex and I walked down King Street in downtown Charleston. We stopped in front of a small fashion boutique, where an employee was resetting the window display with what looked like samplings from a spring collection: a knee-length dress with tiny cap sleeves and a pencil skirt in pale rose, a cashmere sweater set in the same color, trimmed with gold, and a pair of skinny-fit trousers in a loud, floral print, navy with oversized roses in varying shades of pink. A handbag in the same print hung over the shoulder of the mannequin wearing the dress.
“What do you think?” Alex said.
I shrugged. “A little on the safe side, but the print on the pants is great. I’d cut the sweater set. It feels a little too 1997. The dress could work, but I’d add a gold belt, and recut the neckline into something a little more daring. Something asymmetric, maybe.”
“You sound like an expert,” Alex said.
I grinned. “More like someone with big opinions and nothing to back them up.”
“You graduated from one of the top design schools in the country, Dani. I’m pretty sure that qualifies as credentials.”
“Yes. But I’ll feel better when I’ve actually sold a few things.”
We left the boutique’s window and crossed the street, joining the line that snaked out the door of our favorite ice cream place. I breathed in the scent of homemade waffle cones wafting out the door and smiled. “How’s that going?” Alex asked. “Any progress?”
I shrugged, wishing I had more to report. I’d been working retail at a design shop a few blocks away, designing in the evenings and on the weekends. But the progress was slow going. Even working full time, I wasn’t making much, and I’d insisted Isaac start charging me rent as soon as I’d gotten a job.
I’d made several contacts with stores around town that were willing to sell my stuff on consignment but making enough pieces to sell took more cash flow, and time, than I had. I was slowly building my savings, but I was still months away from having enough to create the kind of collection a store would be interested in selling. It’s not like I could go to a boutique and ask them to sell a single dress. I mean, I could, but that wouldn’t do anything to build my brand. Volume was important. Impact was important. To make matters even more complicated, fashion was constantly changing. It wasn’t like I could take three years to design one collection—not if I wanted to stay on-trend.
“Nothing new to report,” I said. “Except I did finally take my design portfolio over to the bridal boutique on Church Street. She seemed pretty positive and said if I could make her a few samples to have on hand, she’d keep me in mind for brides looking for custom dresses. Oh! And Darius said his sister should have some logos for me to look at by the end of next week. So I guess that’s progress.”
It might have helped my cause if I’d been able to show the boutique owner the glowing praise Sasha’s wedding dress had gotten within the fashion industry. Everyone had loved it; similar designs and copies were already showing up in stores. I’d held onto my sketches and had assembled a careful file detailing my design and construction of the dress. Someday, the timing would be right for me to expose what Sasha had done to me. When that time came, I’d be ready.
Alex grinned then leaned forward and kissed me quickly on the lips. “It makes me happy to see you so happy.”
My own smile dimmed. “That got us in trouble before.”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “What got us in trouble?”
“When we were in New York. You were happy because I was happy doing all the fashion things, the parties, the shows. But they didn’t make you happy. I don’t want to do that again.”
Alex touched my back, urging me forward in the line. “But we aren’t doing that again. We’re getting ice cream in Charleston, talking about your plans to start your own brand. It’s entirely different.”
“I know. I just—I want you to be happy too, Alex. I want you to love where you live and love what you do and love the things we do together. I made it all about me for too long. That can’t be how this works anymore.”
Our conversation paused long enough for us to order our ice cream then move back onto the street. “I do love what I do,” Alex said. “I’ve been talking to Isaac about opening myself up to additional clients. He doesn’t need me as much anymore, so I have more time on my hands. I think I’d stay in the same industry. Entertainers, internet personalities. I’ve gained a lot of knowledge navigating Isaac’s world; I think it could be useful to others who suddenly find themselves in the same situation. And of course I love where I live.” He paused and took a bite of his ice cream. “It didn’t snow one single time this year. What isn’t to like?”
“Hurricanes,” I said. “And palmetto bugs. And August. And—”
“A small price to pay,” he said. “I’ll take giant cockroaches and hot summers over icy winters any day.” He nudged me with his elbow. “Maybe I didn’t really love the fashion scene in New York, Dani. But I don’t have any regrets about doing things that were important to you. I’d do it all again tomorrow if that’s what you wanted. I likely will do it all again if your career takes off like I think it will. Is it so wrong that I want the woman I love to be happy?”
I’d heard Alex tell me he loved me hundreds of times before. He’d told me at least once a day for the past six months. Still, the novelty of hearing it again hadn’t worn off. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that.”
“What, that I love you?”
I stopped him on the sidewalk and leaned up to kiss him. His lips tasted like salted peanut butter and chocolate. “Yes, that you love me. Don’t ever stop, okay?”
A phone buzzed and we both moved to see if it was mine or his. “It’s mine,” he said. He looked at his phone, then looked to me. “It’s the attorney.”
I stilled. The attorney was the attorney who had filed an anonymous whistleblower complaint against LeFranc with the IRS on our behalf.
Alex stared at his phone but made no move to answer it. “Alex, answer it,” I urged, startling him out of his stupor.
He gave his head a little shake and swiped across the screen to answer the call.
I listened to Alex’s half of the conversation, wishing we were in a place private enough for him to put the call on speaker.
“Right,” Alex said. “I do understand. No, that is .
. . we didn’t expect it at all, but that’s, that’s amazing news.”
My pulse quickened. What was amazing news?
Alex hung up the phone and turned to face me, his eyes wide with excitement. “You’re never going to believe it.”
“What? Believe what?”
He looked around the busy street. “You need to be sitting down. Come on.” He grabbed my hand and led me down Broad Street and into Washington Square where we found a bench shaded by a sprawling live oak tree.
“Alex, what is going on? What did the attorney say?”
He took a deep breath and I noticed his hands were shaking. “LeFranc was found guilty of tax evasion. Over the past several years, they’ve hidden almost 50 million dollars from the government.”
“Wow. So the twelve million we found in Sasha’s accounts was only part of it.”
“Right. That’s a lot of back taxes and fees they owe the IRS.”
Realization dawned and I swallowed, my hands suddenly trembling to match Alex’s. We hadn’t filed a whistleblower complaint against LeFranc for our own gain. We’d done it because it was the right thing to do; because the company had been defrauding its employees, its investors, its customers for too long. But we’d always known it was a possibility; that the IRS often awarded whistleblowers a percentage of the back taxes and fees owed as a result of the filed complaint.
I took a slow, deep breath. “How much?”
Alex started to laugh. “3.3 million dollars.”
I closed my eyes. Then opened them. Then closed them and pressed my palms to my face. Beside me, Alex still laughed. “I think it’s time you quit your job, Dani. You’ve got a design brand to launch, and now you’ve got the capital to do it.”
Tears filled my eyes and I leaned forward, pressing kisses to Alex’s lips and cheeks and ears and eyebrows. “Hey, Alex?” I said between kisses.
“Hmmm?” he answered, his lips finding mine. This kiss lasted longer than the others, long enough that a tour guide starting her tour at the foot of the George Washington statue looming in front of us cleared her throat until we separated, then shot us a scolding look.
My cheeks flushed, but I didn’t let go of Alex. I placed my hands on his cheeks and leaned my forehead against his. “Let’s get married,” I said softly.
He stilled. “What?”
“Marry me.”
“Are you serious?”
“I don’t want to live with Isaac anymore. I want a house. And a husband. And a baby with blue eyes and another baby with brown eyes and I don’t want to wait anymore.”
He smiled and kissed me again, causing another round of throat-clearing from the tour guide. “Oh, knock it off,” Alex said, and I laughed. He always sounded more Southern when he was annoyed. “We just decided to get married. We’ll kiss if we damn well please.”
And we did. That day. And on our wedding day. On the day I sold my first wedding dress and the day I opened my own shop on King Street. On the day our twins were born. (Both with brown eyes, stupid genetics.) On Isaac’s wedding day. On the day of my very first runway show in New York. On the day Paige and Reese moved back to Charleston full-time and on the day our twins started kindergarten. On the day Chase and Darius finally adopted a gorgeous (blue-eyed, of course) baby girl.
But more importantly, we kissed on all of the awful, hellish days that came in between the shiny, memorable moments.
Even when it was hard.
Even when we hated the world, and sometimes even when we hated each other.
Those were the kisses that mattered most of all.
THE END
Acknowledgments
If I’ve learned anything over the past ten years, it’s that the process of breathing life into a book is never the same. This book will always be special to me for personal reasons and I hope it means something to you, too. Jolene, you read it first and told me it was good enough to keep working on it. Your insight, as always, was priceless. Melanie, I don’t think I could do anyt hing in publishing without your input. I value your opinion next to my own. Thank you for answering the countless texts, Facebook messages, and emails. Emily, the other half of my brain, my words will always be better because of you. Tiffany, Suesan, Wendy, Cindy, Brittany, thank you for beta reading and offering suggestions that tightened and polished the story. Camille, thank you for proofreading. It is second to none! Willete, your ability to interpret my abundance of emails and turn my thoughts and (often misguided) opinions into such a gorgeous cover is a testament to your brilliance. You’ve earned my loyalty to Red Leaf Cover Designs for life. To my team at Four Petal Press, walking this road with you all is the BEST. I feel lucky to call you my friends and associates. To my kids, who are endlessly patient as I balance life and writing, thank you for getting me, for understanding me, for embracing the good and the bad of this job that I do. Josh, you’re the reason I can write love stories—why I believe that love CAN change the world. Because your love changes mine every day.
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