He hadn’t wanted to clear things up. He hadn’t wanted the considerate, loving woman in his arms to get away. Things were better than they had ever been, and for once in his life, he just wanted to enjoy life.
But what was the point, when he just turned around and drove her off?
Will walked out of the closet and flopped down onto the mattress. He’d made a mess he had no clue how to fix. If he booked the next flight to Milwaukee and showed up at her door, she’d probably slam it in his face. That was what he deserved. That’s practically what he’d done to her.
A shift of his weight sent a piece of his mail sliding to the floor. He bent to pick it up. It looked like a party invitation for something he wouldn’t attend. He had a social pass this holiday, given most people would consider him to be in mourning. Or in hiding.
Tearing open the envelope, he realized it was his invitation to the annual Trend Next fashion show. Usually, he sent Cynthia with a check and stayed home. This year, he’d just mail the check direct. As Will tossed the card onto the bed, he noticed a tiny slip of paper floating to the floor. Curious, he picked it up to read it.
“Due to unforeseen circumstances, Nick Matteo is unable to show at this event. Designer Adrienne Lockhart will be showing in his place.”
Will’s jaw dropped. He never expected her to be back in New York so soon. And to be showing at the Trend Next fashion show…that was an incredible opportunity for her. And for him. He wouldn’t go to Wisconsin. With only days before the show, she needed to focus on her work, not deal with the emotional upheaval of his arrival.
But after the show…
Will called the number on the invitation to RSVP. This year’s check would be delivered personally.
Thirteen
“T hat’s the wrong belt! Who put that on her?”
Adrienne dashed through the throngs of people to the line of models queued up to show her designs to the world. Whipping off one belt and replacing it with the cincher made from the same burgundy leather she’d used for a bomber jacket on another model, she took a step back and sighed in relief. That was close.
It had been absolute chaos for over three hours. The girls had to get their hair styled, their makeup done and get into their assigned clothes. Adrienne had to make sure each model had the proper accessories to finish off the look of each outfit. She was the last to go, so she’d seen how the other designers had handled their shows, but none of it could prepare her for her turn.
“Is everyone ready?”
After two weeks of working on a solid diet of caffeine, sugar and almost no sleep, she wasn’t sure that she was. But ready or not, her chance had come. If she could make it through the next hour or so, she could sleep for a week to make up for it.
“Miss Lockhart, you’re up.” The production manager smiled and handed her a microphone. “Good luck.”
Adrienne took a deep breath, straightened her own brown leather skirt and moss-green blouse, which was actually the eleventh look of the collection, and strode confidently out onto the catwalk.
It was nearly impossible to see the crowd. The bright stage lighting made her squint for a few seconds as her eyes adjusted. If not for the applause, she could have convinced herself there were only five people out there, which made the next part easier. She had never been good with public speaking. She was better behind a sewing machine, but this was part of the job.
When the applause finally quieted, she raised the microphone to her lips. “Good evening, everyone. My name is Adrienne Lockhart, and I’m thrilled to be sharing my work with you tonight. My collection was inspired by the almost unbelievable last few months I spent in New York. You might recognize my name from the local papers, but if you don’t know, I’ll fill you in. I almost died, got a new face, lost my memory, fell in love, fell out of love and finally found myself and my passion for designing again. Manhattan is a crazy town to get caught up in, and every moment of it is captured here tonight. I hope you enjoy it.”
With a wave, Adrienne turned and disappeared around the corner, the wall muffling the sound of applause. As she passed off the microphone to a stage hand, the music she had selected for the show began. It was a beautiful melody with a heavy bass tempo for the models to stomp their hearts out to.
Before she could catch her breath, the first model took off and the show was on its way.
Here goes nothing.
She watched from a monitor backstage as each woman showcased the look she designed and selected for them. It was a parade of deep, rich tones, textures, fabrics and blood, sweat and tears. It was the perfect fall collection and the perfect reflection of her time with Will.