Always the Designer, Never the Bride

by Sandra D. Bricker

"Yes," he said, and he leaned back in the chair and looked at her over the top of his tortoise shell glasses. "I think you've really got something there, Audrey."

  "Thank you."

  "Not only is the dress interesting—I mean, you've taken a classic standard and infused some contemporary life into it— but you've also managed to weave a thread of couture into a market that doesn't have anything like it."

  "Thank you, Wes." She wondered if he could hear her heart pounding.

  "I'm not sure what kind of future there is in designing for a market of overeaters, but—"

  Kat interrupted him with a throaty groan. When Audrey looked up at her, Kat raised a hand and said, "Fine. I'm going to go and talk to Billie about lunch."

  LaMont sighed. "I've offended her delicate sensibilities."

  "Insensitivity tends to do that to her. It's a flaw."

  He laughed out loud. "Hasn't she heard I'm a creative genius? We don't have to be . . . sensitive."

  "I'll try to remember that," she teased. "Should I write it down?"

  "What are your plans today?" he asked, ignoring the barb.

  "Finishing up the pattern so we can start to cut."

  "I'll leave you to it then," he said, and he rose to his feet and crossed to the door. Turning back, he added, "Good work, Audrey. Congratulations."

  "Thank you."

  "Oh. If you're given to a heavy lunch, the eggplant sandwich at Caruso's is quite good. Perhaps you can order a few if your client's coming in."

  Audrey spun her chair around, faced out the window, and clamped her eyes shut. "Later, Wes."

  She listened as the click of his shoes on the marble floor faded. What a miserable man Weston LaMont was. She wondered what had possessed him to summon enough compassion to agree to lend her some work space! It certainly wasn't his huge, open heart.

  "The man is despicable," Kat said as she returned to the office and closed the door behind her. "I hope God forgives me, but I'd like to just slap him silly."

  Audrey chuckled. "Let's get busy, shall we?"

  For the next hour, Audrey finished up the pattern pieces that she'd begun the previous day, and Kat helped her to adjust the dress form so that they fit perfectly into place. To make sure they were on the right track, Kat measured the mannequin to compare Lisette's measurements.

  "By George, I think we've got it!" Kat said in a thick English accent.

  "Very good. Let's start cutting."

  They stopped for a quick lunch before spending another couple of hours smoothing out yards of fabric atop the cutting table so that Audrey could apply the patterns and, with meticulous caution, cut out the pieces. When Audrey finally stood back and admired three stacks of carefully folded sections of fabric, each of them still attached to their paper pattern, Kat grinned at her from the other side of the open laptop.

  "Nice work."

  "Thanks."

  "Why don't you sit down and relax a few minutes so I can show you something."

  Audrey folded into the chair, crossed her legs, and rested her arms on the desk before her. "What's up?"

  Kat swiveled the laptop screen toward her. "What do you think of this for Lisette's bling?"

  "Oooh," she said, leaning forward to inspect the rhinestone vine of flowers more carefully. "This is beautiful. Where did you find it?"

  "Well—"

  "Not on Craigslist!" she exclaimed.

  "No."

  "It's too bad it's not just a little longer. It would work perfectly, wouldn't it?"

  "It could be extended."

  "Yes? Do they have any larger pieces?"

  "It's one of mine," Kat stated.

  Audrey looked up at her over the top of the screen, and Kat didn't even blink.

  "You made this? When?"

  "A few months ago," she replied.

  "Where is it?"

  "At my apartment. I had my friend Staci go in and take some photos of a few pieces I thought might work, and she emailed them to me."

  Audrey leaned back and folded her hands in her lap. "Can I see the others?"

  Kat enthusiastically spun the laptop around again, punched several keys, and flipped it back toward Audrey. Three different photos lined the screen in a perfect row.

  The center photo caught her eye immediately: a brooch resting on a swatch of deep purple velvet. Pastel pink rhinestone tulips just on the verge of wilting, sat atop a clear crystal stem that curved downward toward pale green rhinestone leaves.

  The third photo showed Audrey's favorite of the three in the context of Lisette's wedding gown: a large bouquet of rhinestone flowers in the shape of hearts.

  "This last one," she said, tapping the screen. "What are the measurements?"

  "It's about five inches long, no more than three inches wide."

  "Do me a favor? Email all three over to Lisette and ask her what she thinks. I like the last one for her, the bouquet of hearts. Let's see what she thinks."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Of course I am. Kat, these are exquisite!"

  She hopped up from behind the desk, hurried around to Audrey, leaned over, and embraced her.

  "Why haven't you shown me any of your work before?"

  "I have."

  "No. You've worn a cute pair of earrings or a great bracelet, and when I've asked about them you've told me you made them. But you've never shown me anything like this."

  "It's my passion, Audrey. The way your designs are for you."

  Audrey gazed at Kat, her wide eyes misted with emotion and brimming with excitement.

  "I wish I'd known this, Katarina. You're really gifted."

  "Thank you," she said, hand to heart. "I'll send these over to Lisette right away."

  While Kat tapped away at the computer, Audrey took the time to give more thought to the idea that her valued, organized assistant had been carrying around a dream of her own, and Audrey had never noticed. A running parade of earrings, bracelets—and that stunning choker Kat had worn to the bridal show last spring!—flew past her mind's eye, and Audrey found herself looking at Kat with a fresh perspective.

  Sherilyn had encouraged her several times since they'd arrived in Atlanta about taking her jewelry designs to the mass market.

  "I have a profession," Kat had told her, and Audrey had added that she could never survive without her. But maybe she would have to.

  Even if Lisette's gown acted as a stepping-stone that garnered a bigger opportunity for Audrey, the realization could not be ignored; she might have to continue her journey as a designer without Kat.

  The thought choked her slightly, and she had a rough time breathing around the massive lump of emotion resting in the hollow of her throat. She'd been working hard to ignore the tickle at the base of her heart, the one that relentlessly reminded her almost every hour that J. R. had ridden away from her, off into the sunset. The thought of Kat doing the same thing was almost too much for her now.

  "I'm due at Carly's for dinner in an hour. Are you ready to call it a day?"

  "You bet."

  Audrey dropped Kat at The Tanglewood before continuing over to Carly and Devon's house. It had been a long time since she'd driven in the Atlanta area, and the little black Cobalt she'd rented for her three weeks in town zipped nicely through Roswell traffic. She tuned the radio to a classic oldies station, and she found herself smiling and singing along when Bob Seger's "Old Time Rock & Roll" hit the airwaves, reminding her of the teenage dance party she'd attended at Sherilyn's house.

  Tapping the steering wheel and singing along as she rounded the corner into the driveway, Audrey suddenly gasped, the next lyric to the song frozen on her lips as she jammed on the brakes.

  She just sat there in the driveway, staring at the familiar Harley-Davidson parked behind Devon's big truck.

  The Top Five

  World-Class Designers of Bling

  1. Tacori

  Tacori is known for platinum and diamond jewelry

  combining heirloom elegance with contemporary det
ail.

  The company's signature is a crescent silhouette design.

  2. Neil Lane

  While Lane is most widely known for his red carpet bling,

  his personal taste is demonstrated in his lavish personal

  collection of Tiffany jewels, as well as Renaissance pieces

  and nineteenth-century gems.

  3. Harry Winston

  Winston is responsible for the tradition of lending out

  jewelry to stars for their appearances on the red carpet.

  Since the 1930s, Harry Winston is a name most equated

  with luxury, exquisite craftsmanship, and rare stones

  such as those he donated to the Smithsonian.

  4. Tiffany & Co.

  Since the 1800s, Tiffany's has established many FIRSTS

  in the industry, from the first retail catalog to setting the

  purity standard for platinum in the United States.

  While the company offers a stone and setting for virtually

  every occasion, it is famous for the one-carat diamond

  engagement ring in the Tiffany setting,

  and its blue box is universally recognizable.

  5. Cartier

  With more than a century of artistry to its credit, the

  French-based Cartier brand is synonymous with luxury jewelry.

  Once labeled by royalty as "Jeweller to Kings, King of Jewellers,"

  the Cartier name has also been attached to a diverse array of

  products, from leather goods to fragrance to fine timepieces.

  13

  Audrey pushed the front door open, walked tentatively inside, and stood there listening to the voices in the kitchen. One note from J. R. and she inhaled sharply and hurried to the wood-framed mirror in the entry. She fluffed her hair, checked her lips, quickly ran her index finger over her front teeth, and vigorously shook off the nervous electricity suddenly coursing through her. Taking one more deep breath, she passed through the arched doorway.

  "Oh, good! Aud, you're right on time. And look who's here!"

  J. R. swung around in his chair and smiled at her, his steelblue eyes piercing. "Hey, Audrey."

  "Hey, J. R. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be halfway to Austin by now?"

  "He was nearly to Louisiana before the guy he was meeting called and canceled," Carly interjected. "Can you believe the nerve of that guy?"

  "I'm so sorry. And . . . you decided not to go back to Santa Fe. I thought that was your plan."

  "My new sister-in-law presented a compelling argument for me being here until Devon ships out. I figured it might be a sort of sign that I needed to come back."

  "He has no idea how much it cost me for Carly to pay the guy off," Devon said, pulling a mock-serious face.

  "Oh, stop it," Carly retorted. "I did not."

  Audrey swallowed hard. "Well, if we have to put up with you a little longer, I guess we can manage, right?"

  Devon cackled at that and squeezed Audrey's hand. "How are the new digs working out?"

  "Weston LaMont is a pity," she said as she rounded the table and sat down across from J. R. "But the offices are unbelievable. Marble floors, walls of windows, and you should see the women's restroom, Caroline. It's the size of the bridal suite at The Tanglewood."

  "And they order lunch from a different restaurant every day," Carly told them as she delivered a glass of iced tea to Audrey.

  "Yeah, nice start to it too. Today was Caruso's."

  "Fancy," Devon said.

  "What did you have?"

  "Chicken Caesar salad."

  "Oh, shoot. We're having chicken for dinner."

  Audrey exchanged grins with J. R. "I think I can manage chicken twice in one day. What kind?"

  "Barbecued. It's Dev's favorite."

  "Do you need any help?"

  "No. Just sit there and tell us about your day."

  "There's not really much to tell," Audrey replied, and she shrugged one shoulder at J. R. "Fit the form, cut the fabric. The usual . . . Only in some pretty amazing surroundings."

  "Right," he chimed in. "I can't tell you how many times a day I do the same thing. Form after form. Fabric after fabric."

  Devon cracked up and playfully smacked J. R. on the arm.

  "Stop it, you two," Carly reprimanded with a grin. "When will you start to sew?"

  "Tomorrow."

  "And you'll be able to finish and fit the dress to the bride in plenty of time for the wedding?"

  Audrey crossed her fingers and held them up. "Here's hoping."

  "It was a real stroke of luck that this job kind of fell into your lap, wasn't it?" Devon asked her.

  "The funny thing is," she said, and she tripped momentarily over the intensity of J. R.'s eyes. "Uh, I . . . Well, just before it happened, I said a prayer that God would provide some sort of answer because my design business was rolling downhill fast."

  "You prayed, Aud?"

  She noticed all eyes on her, and she giggled nervously. "Well. Yeah. I pray. What's with the shock and awe about it?"

  Carly smiled. "I'm just happy to hear it, that's all."

  "I came across this verse in the Bible—"

  "The Bible?"

  Smacking the tabletop lightly with her hand, she laughed. "Yes, Caroline. They're in every hotel room, or hadn't you heard?"

  "But you were reading it?"

  She looked from Carly to Devon to J. R. "Yes. I was restless, and . . . Oh, never mind."

  "No, no, I want to hear it," Carly said, and she sat down in the chair beside her. "You were restless, and you opened the Bible. That's good. Go on."

  After a long moment of silence, Audrey raised her hand and pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. "I'm going to . . . go and get cleaned up."

  In the bathroom, Audrey stared at her reflection for a few seconds before leaning forward on the edge of the sink, her eyes clamped shut, shaking her head.

  In a hotel room, praying, reading the Bible. Why did I say that out loud? How desperate and sad can I make myself look?

  She pumped a dollop of soap to her hands and rubbed it into a lather beneath the running water, cringing as she played the conversation over in her head.

  It's official. I'm 100 percent dork now. No doubt about it.

  She dried her hands on the fluffy terrycloth guest towel with a big yellow H embroidered on it. She figured, in that moment, H was for Humiliation rather than Hunt.

  Audrey jumped when she opened the bathroom door to find J. R. standing on the other side.

  "Sorry. Didn't know there was a line."

  He grinned. "There's not. I was waiting for you."

  "Oh?"

  "Carly says there's half an hour before dinner."

  Audrey tilted her head slightly. "And this information is important because . . ."

  "Time for a quick ride, if you're interested."

  The appealing offer acted as a catalyst for a slow-moving smile that spread across her entire face and up to her ears.

  "Let's go."

  She realized as she climbed aboard J. R.'s Harley that something about sneaking away on a motorcycle with a guy transported her back to a time when the biggest thing she had to worry about was what to wear to the lake on Friday night and whether Joe Rossi would finally kiss her. Shaggy-haired, leather jacket-clad J. R. Hunt represented Escape to Audrey, with a capital E.

  When he emerged out of the garage with the second helmet and handed it to her, Audrey smiled at him.

  "What?"

  "Could we maybe, just this once, go without the helmet?"

  "No."

  "Please?"

  J. R.'s brow furrowed, and he asked her, "Why?"

  "Didn't you ever just need to feel the wind in your hair?"

  He grinned. "Sure."

  "I need that today."

  He considered the request for a long moment before he set the helmets on the grass and straddled the front portion of the black leather seat. "We are not leaving the subur
b," he told her over his shoulder.

  "Got it."

  "Just a little wind in your hair, and back here for dinner," he declared, turning the key.

  "Right."

  "You know," he said as he gripped the gears. "Not too many girls enjoy the whole wind-messing-up-my-hair experience."

  "I know. But sometimes you just have that sort of day where you need a lot of fresh air, all at once. Do you know what I mean?"

  She felt the inward draw of a chuckle as she wrapped her arms around his mid-section. "You're preachin' to the choir, sister."

  J. R. had the idea of offering Audrey a ride with the intention of getting her alone and telling her there was really no need for her face to turn three shades of red over the admission that she'd said a prayer or turned to the Bible for comfort. He did it all the time. In fact, he had planned to tell her it was the only thing that got him through sometimes, like each time Devon shipped out.

  But he didn't tell her any of that.

  They just rode along in silence, thirty miles per hour in a residential suburb, the cool twilight air pushing away all thoughts of the day, cleansing them. He caught a glimpse of Audrey in the mirror, her eyes gently closed, waves of light blonde hair dancing on the breeze, and her pinkish lips angled upward in a contented smile.

  She's exquisite, he thought as he watched her for a moment before he dragged his attention back to the road ahead.

  Her eyes were still closed when he pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. "Nooo," she cried softly without opening them. "It's not over yet."

  "Just for now," he promised, looking at her reflection as she opened those gorgeous russet eyes.

  She caught sight of him right off, and she grinned into the mirror. "Thank you," she said, and she nuzzled her chin against his shoulder.

  He couldn't break the connection by looking away. The two of them just sat there—he didn't know for how long—their eyes locked together through the reflection of the side mirror. He could feel her heart pounding against his back. He wondered if she had any clear idea how gorgeous she looked just then. Never mind the blazing sunset in the sky behind her. It was Audrey who took his breath away; Audrey who caused his pulse to pound.

  "Are you ready for barbecued chicken?" he asked her, and she closed her eyes.