She went down the line, inspecting each girl. By the time she reached Rubi putting the final touches of makeup on the last model, Lexi pressed a hand to her stomach.
“I want to puke,” she murmured.
“I’m almost done here. I’ll go see if I can find him. ”
“I don’t know if I want to know whether or not he’s here. ”
“Your choice, but I have to know. ” Rubi called to another makeup artist messing with the collar of the lead model’s dress. “Doug, take over here. I’ll be right back. ”
Doug rushed over and took the finishing powder and brush from Rubi’s hands, then back to the front of the line, prepared to douse any shining surface.
Lexi ignored Rubi as she turned out of the room. “Focus,” she reminded herself. “This is your career. ”
But Lexi already knew she couldn’t change anything now. All the plans and props were in motion. The dresses made. The choreography decided. The models rehearsed. She’d made this decision weeks ago.
Now it was all or nothing.
Now, Lexi just had to let go, the way Jax had taught her to let go.
As the applause out front died down and the announcer started speaking again, Lexi turned on autopilot. She shut down all peripheral thought, focused on the moment, and moved to the front of the line.
She put a hand on Naomi’s arm, smiled at the eighteen-year-old beauty and said, “Happy brides. Best day of your life. Cloud nine. ”
Naomi beamed. Her dark skin sparkled with glitter, mouth painted the same color as the girl’s crimson leather gloves.
The music cued, and Lexi squeezed Naomi’s arm. “Go, sweetheart. ”
Jax wasn’t as uncomfortable as he’d expected, even though his best Armani suit jacket was too tight and his suit pants too loose. His stunt work had honed his body over the past few years. But beyond the discomfort of wearing a suit, he had to admit he was enjoying himself. As much as a man preparing to grovel could enjoy himself.
He’d come early to make sure he’d gotten the best seat in the huge showplace and sat front row along the middle of the runway. The designs were amazing, the women—though he knew they were just girls—stunning, the music great, the mood around him all shock and awe, the room dark but for spotlights and sparkles.
Lexi’s line hadn’t shown yet, and he’d already been there over an hour. He sneered to himself when the announcer introduced the line of the designer whose father had hired the photographer to stalk Lexi. The father was now dealing with a lawsuit. Jax didn’t give a rat’s ass whether he won or not; he was sending a message. One which had worked, if the fact that he hadn’t received any more nastygrams against himself or Lexi was any indication. And a recent call to Martina Galliano confirmed she hadn’t received any more communications either.
As the designer of the last line came out to acknowledge the crowd, Jax shifted in his seat and curled the program into a tube. Lexi’s line was next. And last. A grand finale of sorts, which pleased Jax to ridiculous levels.
The applause died down, and the announcer climbed the few stairs to the runway. Dressed in a tux, the middle-aged man addressed the crowd.
“We have a special two-part finale for you today, ladies and gentlemen. Lexi LaCroix has been a bright spot on the industry’s radar for some years now, and this is her fifth year at Luxe Couture Bridal Show. To celebrate her anniversary, Miss LaCroix has put together a brand-new design line we’ll be seeing for the first time here tonight, so get your cameras…and order forms…ready. ”
The man paused as light laughter drifted through the crowd.
“Known for her exquisite artistry in bridal gowns, Miss LaCroix incorporates character and femininity into all her design, whether created with timeless elegance or modern flair, and has even been called by some in the business an up-and-coming Oscar de la Renta.
“As an innovator in the bridal gown industry, Miss LaCroix delights us with surprises season after season. Tonight is no different. ” The announcer ended with a flourishing gesture toward the runway just before taking the stairs to the floor. “Regal elegance with passion from Lexi LaCroix. ”
Dramatic, upbeat music filled the air, and Jax clapped crazily as the lights went out and the spotlight brightened on the entrance to the runway, designed as an ornate Roman archway painted in gold glitter. When the first model appeared, the applause died and the flashes began.
Jax marveled at the uniqueness of the designs, the flowing beauty of the dresses, the sparkle and shine on each and every dress. Each model, regardless of dress style, wore elbow-length crimson gloves, definitely adding flare to the designs. It might just be Jax’s twisted imagination, but the gloves almost seemed like an erotic touch.
And after watching all the other designs pass by, he could see pieces of Lexi in every one of these. Her subtle richness, her unique character, her endless dedication to understated class. There might not be any doubt that he was partial, but he found Lexi’s designs far and away the most stunning, the most elegant, the most distinct.
Two dozen gowns, probably more, had shown already. Gowns that had all been created by Lexi’s own hands. He might not have had the right, but he was still so incredibly proud of her. And also humbled by the reality that she’d gone on to put all this together even after he’d put her through the stress of a hidden relationship and then leaving her on the spur of the moment.
Lexi was indeed a survivor.
Jax couldn’t keep the smile from his face. Couldn’t drag his gaze from the dresses, each more stunning than the next.
When the model at the end of the runway turned and headed back toward the arch and another model didn’t appear, Jax knew they’d reached the end of the show. He crushed the program in his hands, brimming with anticipation for the sight of Lexi.