Three Little Words
Page 34

“Better and better. Plus, there’s the one you met through Dellina. So screw the other bitch and start over with a stable of fantastically talented designers. I know it’s a cliché, but success is the best revenge.” She paused. “Or is it sex? I can never remember.”
Isabel laughed. “It’s success.”
“Oh, well, I suppose they’re both enjoyable.” She shrugged out of her jacket, apparently comfortable in her body. “What about staying here? You have this store already. It gives you a built-in cash flow.”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Isabel admitted, taking the jacket while Taryn slipped out of the skirt. “Fool’s Gold will never be anyone’s idea of a fashion capital, but the start-up costs would be less. I’m still not sure. I worry that not going back to New York is too much like giving up. Death of a dream and all that.”
“Death of a dream?” Taryn asked, taking the ball gown and stepping into it. “Dramatic much?”
Isabel laughed. “Point taken. I’ve been wallowing. I guess it’s time to decide.”
“There are positive aspects to this wretched little town,” Taryn told her. “Even I can admit that. The boys love it, and you have a growing population. There’s plenty of industry coming in. You could talk to the Lucky Lady people and see if they would let you put a display window in the resort area. That would drive traffic to your store.”
Something Isabel had never thought of. Whatever she was going to say next was erased from her mind when Taryn whipped off her bra and handed it to Isabel, then pulled up the dress and slipped her arms into the capped sleeves.
It wasn’t that seeing another woman’s br**sts shocked her; it was that Taryn was so comfortable with her body. Isabel didn’t mind being na**d around Ford, mostly because he obviously enjoyed what he was looking at. But in a dressing room? Isabel would be the one changing behind closed doors.
Which was a statement about her, she realized. Her fears and how she judged herself. Her friends wouldn’t care.
Taryn presented her back. “I can’t reach the zipper,” she said.
Isabel pulled it up the last few inches, then adjusted the deep V in the back. She hung the suit over the back of a chair and faced her friend.
The dress was amazing. Layers and layers of champagne-colored lace with unexpected edges in black leather. The cap sleeves were young and sweet, yet the front dipped nearly to Taryn’s waist and exposed the inner sides of her breasts. At the same time, there was too much fabric around the hips.
“I know someone who does tailoring,” Isabel said, going into gown-selling mode. She studied Taryn critically, then reached for the ever-present dish of pins.
“If we took it in here and here,” she said, pinning as she talked, tightening the dress through Taryn’s rib cage, waist and rear. She eyed the bodice. “Is the front going to work?”
Taryn glanced down. “It’s more wide than low. I feel like I’m one quick turn away from a wardrobe malfunction.” She turned back and forth, and sure enough, one of her br**sts popped out.
“That would make you popular at any event,” Isabel murmured.
Taryn tucked her breast back in place. “Tape?”
“No. It’s a design flaw. I’ll call Misaki and talk to her about putting a band across the front somewhere. The dress has to be anchored. You’re wearing it in the real world, not simply walking down a runway. Movement is required.”
Taryn nodded. “I think a stripe of black leather right between my br**sts would be perfect. Have I mentioned I love this dress?”
The front door opened and Dellina walked in.
“Hi, I brought—” Her eyes widened. “OMG, look at that dress. It’s stunning.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s from those other designers, isn’t it? Damn, they’re good. It’s kind of low in the front, though, isn’t it? No, not too low. Too wide. Although the side cl**vage is very sexy.”
“I flash people when I move,” Taryn said. “We need a fix.”
“So they’re not perfect,” Isabel told Dellina. “Is that a relief?”
“A big one.” Dellina waved her large portfolio and smiled at Taryn. “I have some preliminary ideas based on what you gave me.”
“Wonderful.” Taryn presented her back so Isabel could unzip her. “We’re down to three locations that are a good fit for us,” she said as she stepped out of the gown and started to dress. “One of them is in a warehouse. Right next to CDS.”
Isabel grinned. “Because the potential sound of gunfire is exciting to them?”
“Apparently.” She handed Isabel the gown. “The other thrill of the warehouse is the boys want enough space to put in a basketball court, which I am desperately opposed to, but am once again outvoted.” She finished fastening her bra, then held up her hand. “No. I’m wrong. It’s only a half court. So why would I complain?”
“A basketball court?” Isabel got a hanger for the gown. “Won’t that be loud?”
“And annoying. There’s a sound to try to work by, the constant thump-thump of the ball on cement. I’m going to have to kill at least one of them. I see that now.”
Dellina laughed. “I do have one basketball-court-free option.”
“I wish, but they’ll never go for it.”
Dellina looked at Isabel. “I heard about what happened with your designer friend in New York. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too, but I’m dealing.”
Dellina pulled a couple of sheets from her portfolio. “I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds, but I did a couple of quick sketches using the space next door for nonbridal clothes. It wouldn’t be an expensive remodel, and you can get a lot more in there than you’d think. Especially if you use the dressing rooms you already have.”
Isabel took the papers and glanced at the designs. They were clean and well thought out. She immediately saw the potential and how the two stores would flow together.
“I like this,” she said. “Give me some time to look them over. Then maybe we could talk. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but...”
She pressed her lips together. The song in her head had disappeared, because she did know what she was going to do. The answer was ridiculously simple. Fool’s Gold offered her everything she could possibly want. Friends, a new business and a place to belong.
“I’m staying,” she said softly, not sure she believed the words, yet knowing they were right. “I’m staying,” she repeated more firmly.
“I’m so glad,” Dellina said, hugging her. “We have to talk later. I have a thousand ideas about the store.”
Taryn watched them both, then looked at Isabel. “You and I should talk, as well. You’re going to need capital. However much money you have put away, it’s not enough.”
Isabel nodded slowly. “You’re right. But I can go slow.”
“Or you can start with an ass-kicking opening. I’m interested in helping. As a silent partner. I earned my money the old-fashioned way, and there’s plenty of it. If I’m going to be stuck in this town, then I might as well have fun. Working with you would give me that.”
How unexpected, Isabel thought. “Let’s schedule a meeting,” she said, thinking she could learn a lot from the woman. And not just about business.
* * *
KENT DIDN’T UNDERSTAND what had happened. He’d returned from his math competition only to find Consuelo wasn’t taking his calls. He’d seen her in the grocery store last night, but she’d ducked out of sight before he could catch up with her.
The message was clear—she’d changed her mind about him. In the three days he’d been gone, she’d had time to think, and he wasn’t who or what she wanted.
The truth hurt, he admitted, as he pulled into the CDS parking lot. That night with her had been incredible. He’d thought...well, he’d thought a lot of things. Not just that they had chemistry, but that she cared about him. That she liked how they were together and that she wanted more of that.
But he’d been fooling himself. Or she’d figured out the truth. About him and about Lorraine.
Consuelo was sweet and kind despite her tough exterior. She was too nice to tell him what had happened, so she was avoiding him. While he wanted to keep his pride intact, he knew that the right thing to do was to man-up. He would say what had to be said and then let her get on with her life.
He found her in her office. The room was small and utilitarian. There were no feminine touches.
She looked up as he entered, her expression unreadable. He stepped into her office and closed the door behind him.
He’d imagined seeing her again so many times while he’d been gone. He’d pictured her rushing into his arms, holding him tight and never letting go. He’d thought about her having dinner with him and Reese, then sneaking in a few kisses after he drove her home. He’d hoped this weekend they would have a repeat performance of their last night together.
He wanted to be angry, but he knew the fault was his. Mistakes from the past had come back to haunt him.
“Hey,” he said as he took a seat. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.”
She looked tired. Or maybe he was seeing what he wanted to see. That she hadn’t been sleeping well because of the decision she had to make. The truth was probably much harsher—that she didn’t care enough to sweat his reaction.
“I know what you want to say,” he began, figuring there was no point in pretending otherwise. “You’re not interested in a regular guy like me. You thought you were, but all that danger and testosterone is more interesting than a man who teaches math to teenagers.”
Consuelo slowly rose to her feet. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He frowned. “You sound angry.”
“Of course I’m angry. I’m hurt and I should know better, right? The joke’s on me for thinking you were different.”
“Because of Lorraine.”
Her dark eyes widened. “Who is Lorraine? You disappeared for three days and then you cheated?”
“What? No. Lorraine is my ex.”
“You saw your ex?”
“Of course not. What are you talking about?”
“I get to ask the questions,” she snapped. “Where the hell have you been?”
“At a three-day retreat with my math class. Our first competition is next month.” He blinked. “I told you in the card I left for you. I stopped by on my way out of town. With everything that happened on our last night together, I couldn’t remember if I’d said anything or not. I didn’t want you to worry. We were in Sacramento. Sixteen kids and about that many parents.”
She pointed to her fairly clean desk. “There’s no card.”
Kent studied her for a second, hoping that maybe, just maybe, there’d been a misunderstanding. Something they could get over. Because having her stare at him with a combination of pain and loathing hurt him more than he’d thought possible.
He stood and crossed to the bulletin board by the door. He’d tacked a small envelope there. Now he pulled it free and handed it to her.
Her eyes widened as she stared at the writing on the front.
“You left me a note?” she asked, her voice oddly small.
He nodded.
“When?”
“The next morning.”
She opened it slowly and scanned the card inside. He knew the message explained about the math retreat and asked her to call him when she could.
Consuelo swallowed. “I didn’t know,” she breathed. “I thought you’d just disappeared. I thought you didn’t want...” She pressed her lips together. “Then if you didn’t break up with me, what are you talking about?”
He was still processing the new information. “You were avoiding me because you thought I hadn’t called?”
She nodded.
“I’d never do that.”
“That’s what I thought. So I couldn’t believe I’d been wrong about you.” He started toward her, but she shook her head. “No. Tell me what you were going to say before.”
He swore silently. “I thought you were avoiding me because you’d figured out I wasn’t that interesting. That you were disappointed it took me so long to get over my ex-wife. I couldn’t face the fact that I was wrong about her. I fell in love with her. I asked her to marry me. I had a child with her and then she left. She walked out on me and on Reese. I get leaving the marriage, but her own kid?”
He started to turn away but knew he had to face her. Had to be completely honest.
“I was forced to realize I’d been an idiot from the beginning. That everything about our marriage was a sham. I was hurt and embarrassed and struggling with being a single dad. I didn’t want to face my mistakes, so it was easier to tell everyone I was waiting for Lorraine to come back. Then it became a pattern, and I didn’t know how to break it. I couldn’t get over her until I was willing to admit the truth about her. About us. And that took longer than it should have.”
“How did you finally move on?”
“I guess I got tired of whining,” he admitted. “I accepted I’d made a bad decision, did my best to learn from it and prepared to start dating again. What I couldn’t prepare for was meeting you.”
Her dark gaze never left his face. She drew in a breath, but didn’t speak. He knew it was all up to him.
“Look at you,” he said, smiling at her. “You’re tough and sweet. You care about my kid. You’re fair. You don’t take anybody’s shit. But you’re patient with the little kids. Reese talks about how you’ll spend a full ten minutes in the middle of class to help a student who’s scared.”