“Thank you,” Savannah said as she clasped Jecca’s hands. “I hoped it was going to be a good show but . . .” She waved her hand. “This . . . I don’t even know how to describe it. I fired that little man I hired to plan the party. Next year, will you cor, e sme up with another show? Something different?”
“I didn’t—” Jecca began.
“Savannah,” Tris said, “Jecca designed the clothes. If you want a party planner, get Roan.” He looked at Jecca. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Nineteen
I am sublimely happy, Jecca thought as she woke up next to Tristan. That’s what she was—and that made her worry.
As always, she and Tristan were wrapped around each other until it was difficult to tell where one person began and the other ended. His arm was across her neck, and kissing it, she moved it down a bit. Tristan responded in his sleep by tightening his leg over hers.
It had been two weeks since the fashion show and she’d at last had time to finish the paintings for Kim. Last night she’d had dinner at Kim’s house, and Jecca had presented them to her.
The first six, the ones that went with the jewelry Kim had sent her photos of, were of Tris’s species orchids. Jecca had arranged the composition so Kim’s jewelry would stand out against the creamy colors of the exotic blossoms.
As subtly as she could, Jecca had put either Tris or Nell in the background of the pictures. She showed them more as shadows than as flesh-and-blood people, just a hint of a person in the distance.
The second six paintings were reversed. Either Tris or Nell were in the foreground, the orchids shadowy in the back.
Jecca had watched Kim’s face intently as she looked at the second set of pictures. They were to inspire Kim to design jewelry to match the pictures. But what could she do with a man or a girl? Make some of those big, ugly pinky rings that the kind of men most women didn’t like wore?
Kim carefully didn’t show any expression as she looked at the paintings—and Jecca’s heart sank.
Kim got up from the table, picked up a leather portfolio, and handed it to Jecca. “Go on,” she said, “look inside.”
Slowly, Jecca untied the strings. She was almost afraid of what she’d see. Had Kim grown tired of waiting for Jecca to finish the paintings and hired someone else to do them? If she had, Jecca could understand it.
She withdrew a sketch. Kim had never been interested in the two-dimensional classes she’d had to take at school to fulfill the requirements for a degree. Like Sophie, Kim was interested in three-dimensional art, specifically jewelry. The drawing was a rough sketch, but Jecca recognized it for what it was: a charm bracelet.
What was unusual about it was that the charms had to do with Edilean, eighteenth-century history, and even Nell’s Closet.
“What . . . ?” Jecca asked, her eyes wide. “How did you . . . ?” She started going through the other drawings. There were more charms, and they could be put onto necklaces, bracelets, anklets, hair barrettes.
“Your fashion show inspired me,” Kim said.
“I didn’t even ask if you saw it,” Jecca said. “Oh Kim, I’m such a bad—”
“Don’t say it!” Kim said. “Your creativity, your enthusiasm, your everything has lit a fire under this whole town.”
“I hardly think that,” Jecca said. “I just wanted to help Nell out.”
“You stopped a tyrant,” Kim said.
“You mean Savannah?” Jecca asked, smiling.
“Oh yes. Her exclusive parties were the cause of a lot of tears here. You know what she’s doing now?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“She’s trying to get Rebecca into the Achievers’ Club.”
Jecca’s eyes widened. “But Tristan made that up. Or Roan did. It didn’t exist before the show.”
“I know,” Kim said, “but no one in town’s telling Savannah that. In fact, I heard that shy little Kaylin’s mother told Savannah that her daughter had been a member of the club for three years.”
Jecca laughed. “So what’s Savannah doing to get her daughter into the club?”
“Savannah has hired a career consultant.”