Sunset Love: The Bold and the Beautiful

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by Shannon Curtis




  About Sunset Love: The Bold and the Beautiful

  Thorne has turned his back on Forrester Creations and headed for his Texas ranch.

  Brooke is bereft. She is already feeling out of control and misses Thorne’s guidance.

  Determined to convince him he has made a mistake, she visits the ranch. But there, she discovers a very different Thorne.

  Suddenly, everything she thought she knew about life – and love – is turned upside down.

  Contents

  About Sunset Love: The Bold and the Beautiful

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Acknowledgments

  About Shannon Curtis

  ​Also by Shannon Curtis

  About Blindsided by Love: The Bold and the Beautiful

  About Dangerous Love: The Bold and the Beautiful

  About Heart’s Desire: The Bold and the Beautiful

  Copyright

  To Karen James—a true Glamazon.

  Your strength, dignity and grace are a

  true inspiration.

  Chapter One

  “You wanted to discuss new business, Mom?”

  Brooke Logan smiled at Rick Forrester, the president of Forrester Creations. She hadn’t had a chance to discuss her proposition with her son, had been focusing instead on completing some designs for today’s review meeting. She’d already done so much research, invested so much time into this concept. Brooke drew in a deep breath as she gazed at the people sitting around the table. Every stakeholder of the company, with the exception of Bill Spencer, was present. Bill was in New York, overseeing yet another takeover by Spencer Publications.

  Her daughter, Hope, smiled at her, but her smile didn’t conceal the surprise in her expression. Caroline twirled her pencil in her hand, a look of encouragement on her face; if there was one person Brooke felt would be supportive of her proposal, it was her daughter-in-law. Eric Forrester, patriarch and CEO of Forrester Creations, leaned back in his chair as he waited for Brooke to speak. She hoped he would be supportive. Her gaze halted at the dark, enigmatic gaze of the man sitting opposite her.

  Ridge Forrester.

  She had no idea whether her former husband would support her initiative. It pained her that now, sitting opposite him and gazing into his eyes, she had no clue as to what he was thinking. The man she’d been so sure was her soul mate was now like a stranger to her, and they’d become so combative. She’d struggled with the chasm between them since his return after an eighteen-month separation. Even now, she had to carefully choose her words in order to win his support—nothing was guaranteed. She swallowed. She hadn’t been able to convince him they were still meant for each other—could she convince him to back her project?

  “Thank you, Rick,” Brooke said softly as she rose to her feet. “As most of you would know, a month ago I attended one of Caroline’s fundraisers, where I listened to a woman give a speech about surviving breast cancer.” Brooke turned her gaze to her daughter-in-law. Caroline threw herself passionately into her charity foundation, on top of the determined efforts she focused on her designs for the Hope for the Future line at Forrester Creations.

  “She truly was an inspiration,” Brooke continued. “She was so eloquent, and so honest and open about her experience—she reminded me so much of my own mother, and her battle with breast cancer.”

  Caroline nodded. “Yes, Ruth Parker is an amazing woman.”

  “Well, she said a few things that really surprised me,” Brooke said as she lifted her folder from the table. “I got a chance to talk further with her after the event, and with more survivors since. While some things have changed since my mother was first diagnosed with breast cancer—like advances in treatment and diagnosis—some things are still the same. I’m ashamed to say, there are some issues that I was ignorant of when it comes to battling breast cancer. For instance, I didn’t realize so many women are still affected by the disease. Besides lung cancer, breast cancer is the leading cause of cancer deaths for women in the U.S.—with about forty thousand women expected to die every year. One in eight of us will be diagnosed with breast cancer in our lifetime. My personal risk of breast cancer is doubled because my mother had it.” Brooke took a shaky breath as memories surfaced of that time—the stress and heartache of her mother’s diagnosis, the fear leading into the mastectomy operation, the pain and emotional upheaval afterwards … “So many women still face issues post-operation, whether they’ve had a mastectomy or a lumpectomy.” Brooke started to walk around the table, and placed sheets of paper, face down, in front of everyone. She hastened past Ridge—his aftershave was that same delicious scent she so loved on him—and concentrated on handing out the other sheets to Eric and Hope, before returning to her place.

  “Ruth mentioned her own experience after her mastectomy operation—the issues she faced with healing, with wearing bras and clothes. It brought up so many memories of my mother’s own experience. When you’re recuperating from one of those operations, it’s hard to find a suitable bra, especially if you have to wear a prosthesis. Then you have to find something you can wear over the top of this elusive bra. A lot of these women can’t even raise their arms after surgery. And finding something to slip on that makes them feel not only comfortable, but still feminine and attractive at a time when they are battling some severe body issues, and feeling very vulnerable—” She glanced down at her portfolio. “They face a battle in the simple act of getting dressed.”

  She took a deep breath. Ruth’s story had struck an emotional chord with her. Ruth had explained the depression, the hit to her self-confidence and self-esteem when her breasts had been removed in a double mastectomy. Brooke remembered her mother going through the very same turmoil. Brooke had found herself listening intently as Ruth described dark emotions her own mother had valiantly tried to hide from her. She’d been by her mother’s side for the whole traumatic experience, but listening to Ruth’s story was like finally hearing the stark truth from her mother’s perspective. The insecurity, the feeling of being less than: less than attractive, less than worthy, less than dignified. That one moment when she got it, when she understood a glimmer of what they were experiencing, brought forth a sense of shared emotion and a desire to help in some small way. Now, in her current position at Forrester Creations, there was something she could do. It felt good to help others—she was beginning to feel that with all the designs she’d already worked on. She needed to feel good—she needed to do good. With everything going on in her life at the moment, this, at least, would be a positive. A belated act of support for her mother, and all those many others just like her.

  “I would like to propose a special collection of lingerie and clothing for breast cancer survivors, one that is both practical and beautiful,” Brooke said, and gestured to the papers she’d distributed. Each person at the table turned the sheets over. “These are some initial designs that Caroline and I have worked up. There are some complexities with this type of collection. We have to factor in the range and ease of movement for women putting these garments on. We also need to carefully consider the fabrics we use—these women are healing, so having some fabrics directly on their skin at this time can be irritating. And then we need to consider the structural design to incorporate prosthetics. Some women will also have to undergo chemotherapy and radiotherapy after surgery, which means se
nsitivity, swelling … it’s a challenge, but I believe we can design something incredible.”

  Caroline nodded as she peered at the designs. “These are great, Brooke. The front opening is a must, and I like the full coverage we’ve given them.”

  Brooke smiled. “Thanks, Caroline. I believe we’ve come up with something supportive and beautiful.”

  Hope tapped her sheet. “This is a great idea; I especially love the name for it—Glamazon.”

  Warmth bloomed within Brooke at her daughter’s words. “I thought it was apt. I know these women consider themselves survivors, but most of the women I talked to described their ‘fight’—I wanted something that encapsulated their strength and warrior spirit, along with their beauty.” And if anyone had been a fighter, her mother was definitely in the ranks, and she’d always considered Beth Logan beautiful, scars and all.

  Rick nodded. “Yeah, I like the name …” Brooke’s eyes narrowed. She knew her business-minded son wasn’t entirely convinced—but he could be.

  Hope tipped her head to the side, her long blond hair falling like a golden curtain over one shoulder. “But you mentioned something about clothing—all I see here are lingerie designs …?”

  Brooke lifted her chin. “Yes. The Brooke’s Bedroom line can incorporate the range of underwear, but the clothing range would need to fit into another of Forrester Creations’ collections.”

  “We could possibly do it as a collection for the Hope for the Future line—it fits with the ethos,” Hope said, smiling. “Actually, I think it would be really good for Hope for the Future to get involved.”

  “Well,” Brooke began slowly, “while some young women do suffer from breast cancer, the majority of patients are a little older.” She tried not to wince as she looked around the table. Her next suggestion would be a challenge to fulfil. “We have the Hope For The Future line, which does so well for our younger audience, and we have Thomas’s men’s line, Taboo, and then there is our signature couture line—but I think it’s time we focus on another women’s line.”

  Proposing a new collection for the Brooke’s Bedroom line was one thing but actually proposing a new clothing line was an entirely different scenario, and one that would require all of the Forrester Creations board’s support.

  “A new line?” Rick repeated, surprised. “That requires a lot of groundwork, Mom, and for a core group with very specific needs …”

  “I know, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought we could expand the range to a broader demographic. It’s an audience that we already sell our couture clothing to, we already have a great name and brand, and it might be a good opportunity to build on that.”

  “You’re right, Mom,” Hope commented, slowly. “Hope for the Future has taken a lot of focus for Forrester Creations, but what happens when that core market matures? Besides, I love the idea of producing quality, beautiful clothes with a real message behind them, like this Glamazon line you’ve suggested. I think the lingerie line definitely has potential.”

  Brooke smiled, masking her relief. It was a small victory. “Thank you. I really believe strongly in this concept.”

  “It could have such an impact on how a woman feels about herself,” Caroline pointed out, and Brooke smiled again. “Particularly at a time when things feel out of control. This is something that she can control—choosing intimate apparel that makes her feel good underneath her clothes.”

  “Then once they get a suitable bra, they then have to deal with the clothes over the top,” Brooke said. A clothing line for breast cancer survivors might hold some creative challenges, but it still fit in within their core business. “You’re sore, it hurts or is very uncomfortable to move your arms above your head, you’re sensitive and you’re dealing with loss—and you can’t find clothes to wear that are comfortable and make you feel pretty at a time when you need something to work positively for you. I’m certain we can service that need already with some of our current designs, but also have a range that’s designed for easy dressing.”

  “What kind of demand is there for this kind of range?” Rick asked, looking down at the designs. “I’ve known Caroline long enough to have learned there are a large number of women who have to deal with this—but this would be a massive financial undertaking.”

  Brooke nodded. “I understand; it is very much a niche market—one that’s growing every day, unfortunately. There are some companies out there that do specialize in these garments, but they are few and far between, and I don’t believe any of them match a Forrester creation for beauty and class. A lot of the major underwear companies don’t cater for breast cancer patients.” And therein lay the problem. These garments were scarce, the selection limited, so women couldn’t purchase to personal taste, couldn’t express their self-image, couldn’t present themselves in the way they wanted, or needed—particularly after such a life-changing experience.

  “Probably because of the costs and risks involved,” Ridge commented quietly. “I think it’s a good idea, but the production costs would be exorbitant, not to mention the research and development. This isn’t the same kind of research we’d do for the Hope for the Future line, or with the couture garments. We’d have to conduct some medical research, or at least partner with a clinic … and it could take months to create and test the brassiere designs. You mentioned the post-operative swelling, and chemo—designing a bra that expands and shrinks with the patient’s needs yet is still supportive and attractive …” Ridge shook his head. “I don’t know what kind of design allowances we’d have to make to cater for that. And then there’s the textiles—designing and manufacturing the fabrics—it sounds like they’re not readily available.”

  “Brooke’s already done considerable research to address those medical issues, though,” Caroline commented. “Some of these design elements—they are so practical, and yet I wouldn’t have thought of them if Brooke hadn’t suggested them.”

  Brooke nodded. “Ruth Parker and some other patients have been wonderful with their input. I’ve already incorporated some of their suggestions into the designs, and I’m at the stage of producing prototypes.”

  “It’s an interesting concept,” Eric said slowly, leaning back in his chair. “It’s different, certainly, but Ridge is right—there is a lot of risk involved for a limited market.”

  Ridge rubbed his chin. “I’m concerned how we might market it too, although I think the clothing range falls within the core message of Forrester Creations—beautiful, classy fashion for women.”

  “I believe the lingerie collection would also promote the Forrester Creations message: beauty, femininity, enduring quality,” Brooke said. Please, please support this initiative. The more she’d thought about it, the more she’d toyed with the designs and spoken with other women, the more research she’d done, the more this project had taken root inside her heart, consuming her thoughts. If only there had been something like this range available for her mother when she’d so desperately needed it. She still remembered her mother crying in the shower when she’d finally seen her post-op body for the first time. The way she’d wanted to fold in and hug herself, hide herself, but couldn’t. This initiative was important to Brooke. With her recent heartache, and the breakdown of her relationships with both Bill and Ridge, this was a way of gaining some perspective, of focusing on something important. This was something purposeful, something good she could work on, be proud of—and that her children could be proud of. This had value. And in a way, it would help her in becoming the woman she desperately wanted to be. The Glamazon collection would be her redemption.

  Ridge smiled. “I like the idea, Brooke, very much—and I’m impressed at the thought you’ve put into it. This research clearly shows you’ve already committed a great deal of time and effort to these designs. You’ve highlighted challenges that I was completely ignorant of before. I just don’t see how we can service this market need without a loss. I don’t know the first thing about breast prosthetics—how they work, how th
ey might affect the drape of cloth, where or how to secure them. It’s a steep learning curve. We’d need an R&D project team. You mentioned fabrics, sourcing the right kind in the quantity we’d need, then there’s the distribution—I’m just being realistic. Would our resources be better spent in a different avenue?”

  Rick nodded. “Perhaps donating a portion of funds from the existing clothing range to breast cancer research?”

  Brooke nodded. “Certainly, that’s an option—I believe many of the other companies do that instead of taking on this particular challenge,” she said, shrugging casually. “I know Victoria’s Secret do the same, and I understand the research foundations receive a lot of funding …” She sighed, tilting her head. “It doesn’t really help the women who are facing the problem right now, though. The Glamazons who are fighting their battles now. Today.” She looked directly at Eric. “I remember the night before my mother’s operation, when Stephanie visited her in hospital. Your wife told us about her mother’s experience. I hadn’t known until the eve of Mom’s operation that Ridge’s own grandmother had also been a breast cancer survivor. Can you imagine what something so simple as beautiful apparel tailored to their needs would mean for women like Stephanie’s mother and my own mother? How that would set Forrester Creations apart? How we could be positive influencers for change?”

  Eric smiled slowly. “I remember Stephanie telling me of her mother’s experience. We think the idea has merit, Brooke. It’s just the practicality of it all, the production.”

  She nodded. “Fine. So the main resistance seems to be the fabric and design needed to suit a patient. I understand that hesitation. I can work on the design aspect—I’ve already established contact with some doctors, nurses and patients at some cancer clinics, so I have an expert team of consultants working hard on the recuperative designs. With regard to the fabrics, why don’t we ask Thorne? He’s our production man—and he’d have some good insight into the textiles. We could get him over from International for an operational assessment—or I could fly over to him in Paris. I’m sure he’d have some ideas on how we could make this work.”

 

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