“He’ll be featured, all right...as an orange-jumpsuit-wearing thief!” Lark commented.
“I can just see the headlines now... Designer Arrested at Fashion Week. I’m sure Sebastian was expecting press but not that kind,” Darcy said.
As they were talking, the lights dimmed, the music started and a group of models positioned themselves near the curtain.
“It’s showtime! Let’s take our places out front,” Lark said.
“You two go ahead. I’ll be right out,” Dash replied.
“Where are you going? Don’t you want to see the show?” Lark asked.
Dash saw the shocked expression on Lark’s face. “I need to take care of one last detail. Go ahead. I won’t be long.”
“Uh...okay.”
Lark and Darcy slipped through the side of the curtain and went out front. Once they were gone, Dash headed toward the back to check on the finale piece.
* * *
The beat of the drums was loud and intense and Lark could feel her body vibrating from the music. She and Darcy stood near the stage and watched in anticipation as the models strutted out one by one wearing the fabulous garments she and her team had created. The custom floral silk fabric of the dresses floated on the breeze as the models glided down the catwalk and twirled on their heels. Overhead spotlights captured their painted faces, making the entire presentation even more dramatic. From where Lark stood, she could see the guests’ reactions. Some were smiling, obviously enjoying the show, and some people were stoic, showing no emotion. “Do you think the publisher from Threads likes the collection so far?” Lark whispered in Darcy’s ear.
Darcy glanced in the woman’s direction. “I don’t know. She’s a hard read. But the fact she’s at your show is a good sign. From what I’ve heard, Ms. Lancaster is extremely selective about which shows she attends. The fact that she’s here at all is a good sign.”
“You’re right. That’s exactly what I thought earlier.” Lark focused her attention back on the show.
The music morphed from an African/Caribbean beat into a 1940s up-tempo bebop rhythm, with the sounds of Dizzy Gillespie blowing his trumpet. A second set of models marched out wearing menswear-inspired 1940s pantsuits. The suits were made out of the custom silk, which made them look extremely feminine. The floral pattern was quite small, giving off a solid look from a distance.
“I’m on pins and needles wondering what the buyers are thinking. My heart is beating so fast,” Lark admitted.
“Mine is, too. I’m not just saying this because I’m your friend, but this show is amazing. Your idea to mesh the ’40s vibe with custom prints with an African-beat twist was genius. I’m certain the sales from this collection will be off the charts,” Darcy said.
“Thanks. I hope you’re right. This is one collection I’ll never forget. All the pains we went through to create the new line were well worth it. The last scene is coming up. I can’t wait to celebrate. After all the upheaval, I could surely use a drink. I had Angelica arrange a small after-party on the rooftop at the hotel across the street.”
“Sounds great. Will Vance be there?”
“He most certainly will. I had a feeling that you were not going to call him, so I invited him to the party. You never know—you guys just might make a love connection.”
“Stranger things have happened.” Darcy chuckled.
Lark and Darcy watched as the models came out wearing swimsuits, some with silk sarongs covering their bottoms and some without. The two-piece floral bikinis looked like mere strips of material on the models’ slim bodies.
“I wish I could wear one of those,” Darcy whispered.
“You can. You still have a great figure.”
“I wouldn’t dare wear a bikini in public.”
“You could always sport one for Vance. I’m sure he’d love to see you in next to nothing,” Lark teased.
“I’m glad you invited him to the party. I’m going to take your advice and give him a chance. I’m not looking to fall in love, but I wouldn’t mind having a handsome boy toy at my disposal—if he’s interested in that.”
“My, my, my... Well, haven’t you evolved? There was a time when you wouldn’t have dreamed of dating a younger man.”
“Don’t remind me. I wasted so many years abiding by my self-made rules, I missed out on love. I might not ever get married, but one thing is for sure... I plan to have some hot, kinky sex in the very near future.”
“Good for you, Darcy. Men do it all the time. I don’t see any reason why we as women can’t enjoy the same pleasures!”
“We can, and I will.”
The show was almost over. Lark looked toward the stage, and the bathing suit−clad models were gone. The finale piece was up next, which was an evening dress she had personally designed. She was excited to see the crowd’s reaction. Her eyes shifted from the stage to the front row as she waited for the model to appear.
“Nice design,” Darcy whispered once the model appeared.
The gown was made of the numerous fabric swatches representing the entire collection. The result was a patchwork of different patterns and colors. The sleek floor-length dress hugged the model’s body like a second skin.
“You really like it?”
“Yes, I love it. Kudos... Great job!”
Lark could not have been more pleased the show had gone off without a hitch. As she and Darcy waited for all the models to return to the stage for final showing, Lark heard the music change into a song that wasn’t on the playlist. She had gone over every piece of music with the coordinator and knew the order of each song. Lark didn’t know why the finale song was different and thought that maybe the DJ had mixed up the order.
“I didn’t know there were two gowns in the show,” Darcy commented.
Lark whipped her head around and looked at the stage. Her mouth dropped. This wasn’t one of her designs. She watched in a state of shock as the model from the Congo—sans face paint—waltzed down the catwalk in a snow-white wedding gown with a six-foot-long train trailing behind her. The model held a bouquet of jade-green roses tied with a long, flowing ribbon made from the same silk as the collection.
“What a beautiful dress,” Darcy whispered.
“Yes, it is, but it’s not from the line,” Lark answered.
Lark watched as the model strutted to the end of the runway, tossed the bouquet into the crowd and struck a haughty pose, with her hand on her slim hip. The second the model froze, Dash appeared from behind the curtain.
“Thank you all for coming to RR’s spring/summer show. I’m Dash Migilio, the lead designer. I’d like to introduce you to the creative genius behind the collection... Lark, will you please come onstage?”
Lark was frozen. She hadn’t expected this.
“Go ahead. What are you waiting for?” Darcy said, giving her friend a gentle nudge.
Lark began moving, but it felt as if she were walking in a fog. She climbed the four steps at the side of the stage and walked slowly until she was standing next to Dash.
“I know this is a bit out of the ordinary for a fashion show, but...” He reached into the breast pocket of his blazer and produced a tiny, robin’s egg−blue box. Dash dropped down to one knee. “Lark Randolph, will you marry me?” he asked, opening the lid of the box.
Lark stared down at the huge rock of a ring. The overhead lights made the diamond sparkle like a trillion stars in the night sky. “Yes...yes, I’ll marry you!”
Dash stood, wrapped Lark in his arms and then tenderly kissed her lips. The crowd erupted into applause. Flashes from cameras flickered as they sealed their engagement.
The finale to Randolph on the Runway’s spring/summer show would no doubt be the talked-about event for months to come, garnering press from the United States to Europe. Lark and Dash were officially the dar
lings of Seventh Avenue.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460344743
Season for Love
Copyright © 2015 by Danita Carter
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Season for Love Page 17
