She shakes her head. “No, please, Lilly.”
“Nate has a safe, Kim. You either put it there, or you’re not staying. You can go camp out in the Theater District, like all the other homeless.”
She sighs and turns around, pulling her hair off her neck. “No, I’ll leave it. I need you to trust me again, but I’m sure you’ll want my firstborn too.”
“No, just a lock of his hair.” I grimace at her, and go back to finishing my drawings, having the pressure of the perfect wedding gown hanging over my head. Without the four hundred man hours I need, it’s going to have to be fairly simple.
Scratch that. I toss the sketch book aside. What am I thinking to send Kim up alone? Like she’s going to hand over her most prized possession without me watching the transaction.
I run up the stairs and see Kim at Nate’s doorstep. She’s shuffling her feet while he yells at her. “Lilly trusted you, Kim. You should have seen her face when she realized you were gone. She wouldn’t believe it!”
“I didn’t want to be in the design business anymore, Nate. You don’t know what it’s like being color-blind around a group who needs the perfect color. It’s like realizing my handicap every moment of every day. This guy offered me a ticket out of California. At least, I thought he did.”
“You are not going to try that with me. You had a choice. Lilly never left you without a choice. She thought you needed a job, and she made one for you. How do you repay her?”
“Look, I didn’t come here to be judged.”
“Why did you come here?” Nate snaps.
“Lilly says I need to leave some collateral with you.” Kim reluctantly hands him the cameo. “This was my mother’s.”
“How do I know your mother isn’t in Topeka with a pile of these? Or this isn’t some eBay junk?”
Kim’s voice cracks. “She’s not in Topeka, okay? You just have to trust me, I suppose. Lilly does; she sent me up here by myself.”
Um, oops.
Nate takes the cameo from her. “If you hurt Lilly again, I’ll tell Sara Lang where you are, and trust me, she won’t be nearly so kind as Lilly.”
If she hurts Lilly again? Hello! Did my knight in shining armor not just pierce my heart with his very own sword?
“I’m trying to start fresh. I won’t harm her again.”
“She deserves better, but I’ll shout the truth from the rooftops to Sara Lang if you hurt Lilly again.”
“Deal.” Kim thrusts her hand toward Nate, and they shake on it.
I silently creep down the back stairs wondering what to make of Nate Goddard. No, that’s not what I’m thinking at all. What I’m thinking is how can I get him to kiss me again? And how can I make the Miss Shampoo Commercial ride out on the horse she suddenly came in on? And then, of course, I’m having guilt because I know better. Yes, Lord, I know better. But I’m only human here.
chapter 19
I call Nana and she’s not home, so I try Max’s place. I need to give them my new cell phone number.
“Max Schwartz,” he answers, far too professionally for a television writer.
“Max, it’s Lilly. Is my Nana there? I wanted to give her my new cell number.”
“No.” He pauses. “But I’m here. I’ll take your number,” he purrs flirtatiously. What did I eat this week? Or maybe it’s my sense of freedom and unemployment that’s turning all these guys into flirts.
“Where is she?”
“Your Nana?”
“No, Valeria.”
“That was just mean,” he tells me, and he’s right.
“I’m sorry. I’m specializing in mean this week, and I’m not proud of it.”
“I’ve got a pen.”
“For?”
“Your number.”
He writes it down. “Mildred is outside gardening. You want me to call her?”
“You are trouble. Is she feeling okay?”
“She seems fine, Lilly. Whatever had her going back and forth to the hospital seems to be over.”
I let out a gasp. “Oh thank you, Jesus,” I whisper. “Just tell her to call me when she gets in, will you?”
“I will. Hey, Lil—” I hear Max start to say. But it’s too late. I’ve already hung up on him. I reach for the phone a few times to call him back, but ultimately decide our conversation was done enough.
It’s Friday afternoon and time for a whirlwind Spa Girls weekend. We don’t usually do this—cluster our spa visits so close—but we don’t usually have so much drama either. Hasty marriages, fashion design crises, and the sudden need for couture gowns. Oh, my!
As I stare across my loft, I’m looking at Kim knowing I don’t have the guts to kick her out of the house. I’m a wimp. Nate is still not talking to me. Avoiding me like the plague might be a more appropriate term. Miss Shampoo Commercial hasn’t been back, so I choose to think it was the lingering memory of my kiss that made him unable to follow through on his designs for those auburn waves of hair. I like the idea of him up there pining, wishing he had the strength to come down and kiss me again.
In a new development, Kim has decided to feel a little guilt and is working on computer patterns for me until she finds “a real job.” I’m very proud of the gowns I’ve sketched. They’re better than anything I did for Sara Lang, so I’m grateful to have the help. When I’ll find the time to actually sew them is still a mystery.
Kim is bent over the computer watching The View and yelling in agreement at the TV as the women take some anti-male stance. “Kim? I don’t want to ruin your lovefest with the gals here, but I’ve left all the designs and the fabrics numbered that go with each pattern.”
She nods and doesn’t tear her eyes from the TV. “Men are dogs.”
“The patterns are hanging in the coat closet, so don’t put anything in here. I don’t want the fabrics touched. I just need you to put the designs on the computer,” I say to Kim as I store the last of the fabric. “The drawings are on the sketch pad next to the computer. Don’t cut any of the patterns. I know you mean well, but that fabric cost me a fortune, and I haven’t paid for it yet. I’ll have a sewing frenzy when I get back.”
“It’ll be fine, Lilly. Just go, will you? You can trust me.”
Actually, I can’t, can I? I think. Then I shrug. It’s too late to fix it now, and I’ve got my driver’s license well-hidden in my wallet and no more money for her to take. I pack my new sketch pad and Morgan’s wedding fabric, plus the material I picked out for Poppy and myself. I’m hoping we’ll have a bridesmaid gown at the end of this weekend and approval for the design and fabric of the wedding gown. If all goes well, I can cut fabric and pin while the girls get spa treatments.
“I’ll be on the cell. The number is right here over the phone,” I point. “Don’t answer the phone. It’s forwarded to my cell, and Sara can’t know you have any part in this, or I’ll never get the money. Just do me a favor and work on the computer, will you?”
“It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Just go, will you?”
I back out of the door with one outfit for the entire weekend, as my bag is packed full with Morgan’s wedding fabrics. The last thing I need is my common stuff mingling with her material that’s fit for a queen. So my stuff—the riffraff—is in a plastic bag squished in with Morgan’s fabric.
“Need some help?” Nate’s standing over me as I try to shut the door.
Well, look what the cat dragged in. “I’ve got it, thanks.”
“Are you ever going to talk to me again?”
Oh, isn’t that just like Nate to play innocent?
“I’ve been here,” I shrug. “I’m paying you for this,” I nod to the sewing machine. “The computers, too. I’ll have your money next week. We’ll talk then. It’s my policy to not talk to investors until they’re paid in full.” See, this is the great thing about your own business. You make the rules as they’re convenient. “See you, Kim!”
“Lilly, this is stupid.”
Nate picks up the suitcase, an old hardsh
ell Samsonite in avocado that once belonged to my Nana. He hefts the sewing machine too. I’m left with only my cashmere sweater tossed over my arm. The one I made from Sara Lang scraps. We hike down the stairs.
“You have to talk to me someday. I shouldn’t have kissed you, all right? I’m sorry.”
“It’s me who shouldn’t have kissed you. You caught me off guard,” I say. “I was just too polite to turn you down. I think in actuality I was kissing Stuart Surrey, and you just happened to be in between us.”
“You are too polite, or you wouldn’t have Kim back in your place. I can’t believe you. I know about doing the decent Christian thing, but don’t you people have missions for that?”
“I’m wise as a serpent, gentle as a dove.” Stupid as a sheep. “My choice. My problem.” We reach the bottom of the stairs, and Morgan’s waiting for me in her BMW. She opens the trunk without getting out of her car. I never look at Nate. “Thanks for the help. See you Monday.”
“Ugh!” I shout once I’m in the car, looking back at Nate.
“That was nice of Nate to help you down,” Morgan says, waving at him.
I grab her hand and force it down. “Stop that. He’s a jerk, all right?”
“A girl could do worse than him,” Morgan says.
“Not really, no, she couldn’t,” I say, as she just stares at me waiting for an explanation. “He kissed me the other night. No, he snogged me full on,” I correct. “Actually, he kissed me, then the next night had a cozy date up to his loft. Then he said he hoped I understood we’re just friends. Of course, this was after I saw him with the girl.” Okay, maybe it wasn’t after I saw him. I just can’t remember. It feels like it was after Shampoo Girl.
“Oh,” Morgan says. “Well, he’s not a Christian.” Morgan starts to give him a wave involving a single finger, when I shove her hand down again. “Speaking of jerks,” she continues, “Stuart asked me to give this to you. He came into Daddy’s store yesterday. Lilly, you need to run from this guy. I thought of not giving it to you. He sauntered into Daddy’s store like you were the best of friends.”
Morgan hands me a small, blue package. I unwrap a wad of tissue paper and find Stuart’s business card and an English toffee with a note that reads, “Something sweet for someone sweet. Looking forward to getting to know you better.”
“Morgan, look!” I show her the card, and she rolls her eyes.
“Gads, that’s sickening. Please don’t tell me you’re remotely moved by this. He’s smarmy, Lilly!” Morgan tosses the candy on the floor, and I retrieve it like a good hunting dog. “Stuart gives a bad name to English lit everywhere with that. The home of Dickens and Thomas Hardy, and he gives you that? I’m surprised he didn’t start it ‘Roses are red.’
“What on earth do you have against Stuart?”
“Nothing. I just think you can do better, all right? And you’re too old to use the word snogged. Can it, okay?”
“Morgan, I tell you when I looked at Stuart, something happened. You’ll be embarrassed when you’re the bridesmaid at my wedding to him, so don’t say anything more. Your love for Marcus doesn’t exactly make sense either.”
“I’ll leave it alone, but he just really seems like he wants to marry into money. Does he know you don’t have any?”
“He knows I don’t have a car and that I live in California. Does it get much more pathetic than that?”
“He probably thinks you have a chauffeur. We’re picking up Poppy at the BART station.”
I look down at my gold-foiled toffee and smile giddily. Life is most definitely good.
“Lilly?”
“Yeah, I heard you. Poppy…the BART station.”
We drive for a short time, and a cell phone trills. “I think that’s yours,” Morgan says.
“Oh right, I’ve never heard it ring before.” I pick up the phone, but realize I don’t know how to answer it.
“Oh, Lilly, for crying out loud.” Morgan grabs the phone and opens it. “Lilly Jacobs Design.”
“Give it to me.” I grab the phone.
“Lilly?” a deep masculine voice asks.
“It’s me,” I answer.
“Max here.”
“Max? Is something wrong? Is it my Nana?” My heart begins to pound.
“No, I’d just like to invite you to dinner for rescuing me the other day. I’d ask you out, but you’d have to drive, and I thought it would be easier here. I’ll have something brought in, something good.”
I’ll admit, I’m completely taken aback. It’s the only explanation I can give for what I say next. “Why would you want to have me to dinner?”
Max is silent.
“Max?”
“I’m thinking about that question. Why wouldn’t I want to have you for dinner, Lilly? Do you have an eating problem or something? I know Mildred says you don’t eat, but I think you look pretty great, so you must eat something.”
My first thought is Stuart Surrey and our impending relationship. “If Nana sees me, she may be planning our nuptials,” I joke, but Max is eerily silent again. “Are you ready for that? Have you ever actually been to an Italian wedding?” He’s still quiet. “The chicken dance? The accordion?” I say, hoping to scare him into thinking this is a stupid idea. Nana needs her apartment. I can’t be seeing her landlord, however casual he thinks it is.
“So, Sunday night?” he finally says.
“I’m not going to be here this weekend. It’s a Spa Girls weekend. We’ve had more than our share of crises this year. You understand. Sunday night is cutting it a little short.”
“Right. So that’s a no?” Max asks.
I look at Morgan, and suddenly I’m thinking, if I tick him off is he going to kick Nana out the door?
“Is that for a date?” Morgan whispers at me. I just shrug. I’m not sure what exactly you’d call this. “I’ll have her home in time!” Morgan yells.
Max is laughing. I scowl at her. “What time should I be there?”
“I thought I’d send a car around for you.”
A car around for me? What am I, the babysitter? “No, I can get there. Morgan will drop me off,” I say, and stick my tongue out at her.
“Great. How’s seven? Is that late enough for you to have a full weekend?” Max asks.
“It is. How’s my Nana today?”
“She’s doing well, Lilly. Hasn’t been back to the doctor or asked for a ride. Not that I could take her anywhere, but I’d see if a cab came by. Whatever her crisis was, it appears to be over.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Thrilled I never had to have an actual conversation with Nana about her health. She can be such a bear when things concern her private business. As if she ever lets me have any of my own personal, private business.
“Are you serious about this thing on Sunday? Why do I suddenly feel like there’s some great mystery?” Maybe Nana is going to throw me a surprise party to celebrate leaving finance behind! She’s been pretending to be under the weather, but really, she’s cooking an Italian feast for the week. Everyone will be there, and I’ll feel like a dolt that I thought I had a date. “I’ll see you Sunday, Max.”
“Who was that?” Morgan asks. “I know it wasn’t Stuart because I didn’t hear the full-of-himself accent. My,” she says in a pretentious fake English accent, “Lillian darling, if you would but give me the pleasure of your company, I do ever so need someone to hold my mirror for me.”
“It’s with Max, my Nana’s landlord. Sunday night.” I don’t say anything else. I don’t want to let on that I know about the party.
“That should be fun. Especially if your Nana likes him. He must have some charm!”
“Max Schwartz watches TV for a living.” I suppress a giggle.
Morgan’s smile dissipates. “Max Schwartz? Max Schwartz is your grandmother’s landlord?”
“Yeah. He broke his leg this week climbing on a ladder.” I roll my eyes. “When men are interested in me, I tell ya, it’s like, roll out the geek-o-meter—”
/> “Get the newspaper in the backseat,” Morgan says.
“I can’t read in the car; it makes me sick.”
“Get the newspaper.” I lean over the lush, leather bucket seat and grab the paper. “Turn to the society page,” Morgan orders me.
I hold my palms up.“Like I have any idea where the society page is. If Sara Lang is in there, she cuts it out.”
“The Datebook section. Back page.”
I find the correct page, and I’m stunned when I see a photo of Max Schwartz smiling in a business suit on the back. Dang, he’s sort of hot in a suit. “What the heck?”
I read the caption: “Millionaire hotel heir falls, breaks leg.” The smaller article goes on: “Max Schwartz, heir to the Union Square Sisters chain of hotels, broke his leg in three places when he fell through an air duct in the ceiling in the world-famous Starlight Hotel. He is recovering at home. Schwartz has a weekly television column in our sister paper, The Peninsula Times.”
“He watches TV for a living. He never said anything about being an heir. His father has a few hotels, but he’s not involved in the family business,” I explain while Morgan just smiles and placates me.
“Lilly, as a diamond business heiress, I can officially say that I don’t wear a diamond brooch that reads ‘Heiress’ across the front. Max had a falling-out with his parents about not taking on the family business. I wonder what he was doing at the hotel.”
Looking at him in the paper, standing there in his suit with his coiffed goatee, I am completely riled. “He’s a total liar! If I want a liar, I can go upstairs and maul Nate.” Again. I roll my eyes and finger the gold-foiled toffee. I read Stuart’s card again and smile. A gentleman. Precisely what I need.
“You’re being ridiculous. He’s saying thank you for driving him from the hospital, not, ‘Will you marry me?’”
I hold up the toffee. “It’s time I got dumped by a better breed of man. If I’m going to get dumped again, I want it to matter. I want to be told with a sexy British accent that I’m only worthy of friendship. At least Stuart will make it sound good. Besides, I’ve got work to do. I’m tired of people with money. Maybe I need to move to a middle state.”
She's All That Page 17
