Always the Designer, Never the Bride

by Sandra D. Bricker

  "Look, Emma Rae. It's Carole Lombard, right here in Jackson's hotel."

  Emma grinned and took Sophie's hand into hers and kissed it. "I think Miss Lombard was having some private time, Aunt Soph. Let's go visit Jackson and leave her to her coffee, shall we?"

  "Jackson? Oh, yes. I'd like to see Jackson."

  Sophie braced herself on Emma's arm to get up from the table, and she wobbled slightly on her feet. Turning back toward Audrey, she beamed.

  "Clark will come back to you, dear. He never could stay away from you for long. Remember what he said? He trusts you, and he knows you wouldn't even know how to think about letting him down."

  Audrey glanced at Emma.

  "Clark Gable and Carole Lombard. We just saw a piece about them on AMC last week."

  "Give him a reason to come home. He'll come back to you."

  Emma shrugged and gave Audrey a crooked little smile. "Come on, Aunt Soph. Let's get upstairs and see Jackson before his next meeting."

  "Take care," Audrey told them. "And thanks for the advice, Sophie."

  "Anytime, dear."

  "Do you think she's right? Maybe all J. R. needs is a little incentive?"

  "Oh, Kat, I don't know," Audrey replied with a chuckle.

  "Well, you'd like to have him back, wouldn't you?"

  "Of course she would," Carly piped up from the kitchen. "Do you mind if I get pineapple and ham?"

  "On pizza?" Audrey exclaimed. "You hate Hawaiian pizza!"

  "I know. I always did. But it sounds so good to me right now."

  Kat and Audrey exchanged grins.

  "We've moved into a house with a walking trunk of hormones."

  "Oh, Aud! What a thing to say."

  "You know, I'll bet Russell could get him to come back," Kat suggested.

  "To what?" Audrey cried. "I told you—and I'm sorry, Kat, I really am—but I'm just not feeling this deal with Lisette."

  "Stop it. It's fine. Besides, Russell says he knows someone who might be able to help me get my own line going."

  "Are you serious?"

  "We'll see how it goes. But you're making the right decision for you, Audrey. I get that, and there's no hard feelings."

  "Thank you, Kat. It would have been so great to keep you right by my side, but I'm really happy for you. Meanwhile . . . I don't know."

  "If you could have one door open for you, what would it be?" Kat suggested, drawing her feet underneath her on the chair.

  "I've already put so much time and energy into my own design business. Aside from that paying off at last?"

  "Right. Anything else that would make you feel happy and fulfilled. Would you want to design for someone else who is already established?"

  "Well, yeah," she admitted. "If he wasn't such a tragic human being, being taken in with House of LaMont would have been a great opportunity. But he's such—"

  "A snake," Kat completed for her, and they exchanged a smile.

  "I couldn't work for someone like him and be happy. But in a perfect world, where he would be a normal human, I could make my mark with his dollars and brand behind me."

  After a gap of throbbing silence, Kat finally broke it. "Something is going to turn up for you, Audrey. I just know it. We're all praying for you, and I just know there's something around the corner."

  "Yeah?" She tilted her head and tried to smile again. "Any idea when?"

  "None at all."

  The three of them shared a desperate kind of amusement, the kind of laughter friends often share when one of their lives heads over a cliff and no one knows what to do or say.

  "Meanwhile, I have no idea what's going to become of me or where I'll—"

  "I told you," Carly said as she plunked down on the chair across from her, "you'll be here. You said yourself you can't afford to keep things going in New York City. Kat will be here because of Russell. I'm here, and I'm pregnant!"

  "Which you have made abundantly clear by mentioning it every thirty-six seconds in the last two days."

  "Where else would you go to regroup? Here. And if J. R. were here too . . ."

  Audrey raised her hand to try to cut Carly off before she could continue.

  "I'm just saying, it might help if you reached out to him, Aud."

  "So you're suggesting I somehow lure J. R. back to Atlanta— after him clearly telling me he has no desire whatsoever to relocate here, by the way—so that he'll be around on the off chance that the next opportunity I find will keep me here too?"

  Carly pulled a face at Kat. "She makes everything so dramatic."

  "Look who you're telling."

  Carly crossed the kitchen with the phone to her ear. "Yes, I'd like to order a large Hawaiian."

  Audrey and Kat both jumped, startled as Carly pulled open one of the cabinets and yanked on the door several times until the top hinge gave way.

  "Caroline! What are you doing?"

  "Some cheesy bread too," she told the person on the other end of the phone line. "A large order. And could we get some of that chocolate lava cake I saw on your commercial?" Pulling a butter knife from the drawer, she bent down to the floor and used it to begin prying up one of the linoleum tiles. "Forty minutes? Any chance you could put a rush on it? Hungry pregnant lady on the phone . . . Thank you so much!"

  "Carly, what on earth—"

  "Shh," she said as she returned to the table and sat down.

  Audrey frowned at Kat. "She's lost her mind."

  "Apparently."

  "You know what would be so good right now, Aud? Gooey pretzels!"

  "Oh yeah. She's pregnant," Audrey said with a giggle.

  As Carly began to dial once again, Audrey reached out for the phone and missed. Carly beamed as she pressed the handset to her ear.

  "Hey, J. R.," she said, and when Audrey gasped, Carly jumped from the chair and crossed to the doorway. "How are you doing?"

  "Oh, no." Audrey cringed and dropped her head into her hands.

  Suppressing laughter, Kat whispered, "This is going to get so good."

  "I hate to bother you with this, I really do. But I'm just about going out of my mind. You've got three women in one house that is literally falling apart around us. I just about knocked myself out five minutes ago when the cabinet door came right off the hinges. Not one of us has skills with a hammer or a screwdriver, and the place is a hazard, J. R. Are you sure you can't come back to Atlanta for a while once you finish up whatever you're working on? I wouldn't ask except that Devon always kept things in such great shape, and I'm overwhelmed with planning for the baby. I mean, I need to get the office converted to a nursery, and I don't think you're supposed to paint when you're pregnant, are you? . . . See, I didn't think so."

  Carly held Audrey and Kat captivated, and she hung up the phone a few minutes later with a triumphant smile. "He's going to see what he can work out."

  "Caroline. You are evil."

  "I am not evil. I am inventive."

  As she dialed yet again, Audrey flew to her feet.

  "Step away from the phone, Caroline!"

  "Don't worry. Just one more call, then the pizza will be here." Carly turned sideways in the chair, crossed her legs, and smiled. "Sherilyn. Hey, it's Carly. Listen, I need your help with something. A little project I'm working on."

  Granny Beatrice's Gooey Pretzels

  About half a 12-ounce bag of semi-sweet or

  milk chocolate chips

  1 bag rod-shaped pretzels

  Various toppings, such as:

  Chocolate sprinkles

  Crushed pecans

  Ground walnuts

  Shredded coconut

  Cinnamon and sugar mixture

  Melt chocolate chips and pour into a tall container,

  such as a glass.

  Prepare several plates, each with a thin layer of selected

  toppings.

  Dip each pretzel in the chocolate.

  Roll the pretzel in the desired toppings.

  Munch!

  16
r />   No joke, mate. I want to hire you."

  J. R. tilted his head against the phone, took a swig from his cold coffee, and grimaced. "Hire me."

  "Yeah. I'm closing on the house way sooner than expected, and it needs all kinds of work around the grounds, and I need a shelving unit built in too. I have these awesome plans for it, but you know I don't know what I'm doing when it comes to all that."

  "And you want me to come and build you some shelves."

  "Rightie. And help me get it fit for human habitation so Kit- Kat will want to come over and won't feel like she's trapped in some bachelor money pit."

  J. R. sat there, weighing Russell's words. "Why don't you hire a contractor?"

  "Because I don't want some Joe I don't know telling me what I should do. I want you doing that."

  He laughed. "Since when?"

  "C'mon, mate. This is new territory for me, settling and making roots. I'm in my thirties, and I've never owned anything bigger than a Hummer! This is a big deal for me. I need your help."

  First Carly, and now Russell?

  Call waiting beeped in, and J. R. sighed. "I've got another call. I'll get back to you in a bit."

  "Don't leave me hanging now."

  "Hello?"

  "J. R., how are you? It's Jackson Drake."

  "Jackson," he exclaimed. "I'm good, man. How about you?"

  "Well, I'm much better since I just learned that you have some experience as a builder."

  "I'm in carpentry. But I only worked with a builder for a few summers when I needed the extra income. How did you know about that?"

  "Here's the deal, J. R. I'm hoping maybe there's a lull in Harley restoration for a few months. If you're interested, we're doing some construction here at the hotel, and I could really use someone to oversee things for me. Make sure I'm not being taken for a ride."

  J. R. narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Seriously?"

  "Yeah. Sherilyn mentioned that Carly had asked you to come back to help her get ready for the baby. I got to thinking maybe you could use a paying gig to help you do that, and I'd really appreciate the expertise."

  Oh, come on. Et tu, Jackson?

  "I should reach Atlanta at the end of the week. How about I drop by and talk to you about it then."

  "Sounds good. Listen, I really do appreciate it, J. R."

  "Sure."

  J. R. shook his head as he disconnected the call and slid his phone across the table. Suddenly, he had a vision of the whole lot of them, gathered around Sherilyn and Andy's dining table, laughing and concocting their plan.

  "Let Carly call first," Russell had probably devised. "Then I'll follow it up."

  "But he won't come for no reason," Sherilyn likely pointed out. "We need something solid, like a job offer."

  "Oooh, Jackson can take care of that!" Emma no doubt exclaimed. "You'll do that for me, won't you, Jackson?"

  And there was Audrey in his mind's eye, sitting in the corner, taking it all in, hoping for their success but not willing to participate. And why would she? If she turned down the new business deal, as he suspected, she would be off to New York again, maybe even before he reached the state of Georgia.

  He wished he hadn't phoned Carly and agreed to return, in fact. He had an inkling that she might have been playing him in the first sixty seconds of their conversation, but he couldn't deny the gravitational pull toward the obligation of doing for her what Devon could not. And the idea of his pregnant sister-in-law standing on a ladder and painting a wall . . . Well! That wasn't going to happen, no way and no how. So he acquiesced.

  They should have quit while they were ahead. Talk about overkill!

  First Russell's call, and now Jackson! The poor guy. They'd obviously roped him into making a job offer, the point at which J. R. felt he had no choice but to draw the line. It shouldn't cost Jackson money out of pocket to help their scheme along.

  So maybe he would go ahead and make the trip, after all. He owed Devon that. He could help Carly in whatever way she needed to prepare for the baby, and maybe he could build a shelf or two for Russell. But he slammed on the brakes at the idea of a pity job, from Jackson or anyone else.

  Still, the idea of seeing Audrey again . . .

  Audrey dragged the last box across the cement floor of Carly's basement and pushed it into a neat line with the others while Kat relocated Mac to the far wall.

  "There we go! I can ship these later if we have to."

  "Thanks, Kat." Audrey sat down on the edge of one of the boxes. "Remember storage?"

  "No," Kat teased. "I haven't been able to afford a basement, or even a free closet for that matter, in my entire adult life."

  Audrey laughed. "Me neither."

  "Aud," Carly called from the top of the stairs. "Your harp is singing."

  "Can you see who it is?"

  "Unknown caller."

  "That's the third time today," she told Kat. "I'm coming."

  "Too late. It went to voice mail," Carly said. "You can check for a voice mail later. Now come on up here, both of you. I have a few paint sample cards."

  Audrey and Kat clomped up the stairs and shut the basement door to find dozens of color cards spread across the tabletop.

  "A few?" Audrey teased.

  "Well, maybe more than a few. Help me choose."

  "How can you choose the nursery color before you know what you're having?" Audrey asked, and she grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the counter and took a bite as she plopped into a chair.

  "I was thinking green or yellow," she replied. "Something that would work for a boy or a girl."

  "Caroline, you're only eight weeks pregnant. Don't you want to—"

  "Don't say it, Audrey." Carly's face curled up like a fist. "I want to focus on our little boy or little girl, so I don't have to think about . . ."

  "Okay. Okay, I'm sorry."

  "I like this shade of green," Kat interjected, and she pulled one of the cards from the stack and slid it toward Carly. "My friend in New York did her nursery in this color on the bottom part of the wall, with a really pale butter yellow on the top, and they were separated by this adorable border with ducks on it."

  "I want sheep," Carly said, drying her eyes. "I like the idea of comparing our baby to a little lamb."

  Audrey's chest squeezed as she watched her friend cling to whatever hope she might be able to get her spiritual hands around.

  "Why don't we go shopping tomorrow," she suggested. "We can look at borders and wallpaper, and see what strikes you. Once you pick your little lambs for the room, we'll match the paint color to them."

  Carly smiled gratefully. "Leave it to you to organize it all. That makes sense."

  A light rap at the front door drew their attention, and Kat hopped up to answer it. A moment later, she returned to the kitchen with a strange expression on her face, followed by an even stranger sight.

  "Hi, Audrey."

  Riley Eastwood?

  "Riley. What are . . . How did you . . . ?"

  Riley grinned. "My assistant has been trying to track you down for me ever since Lisette's wedding."

  "Um, you remember Kat. And this is my friend Carly. It's her house. Carly, this is Riley Eastwood. The designer."

  "Oh." Carly's eyes widened. "It's nice to meet you."

  "I hope you don't mind the intrusion," she replied. "Audrey, we tracked you down at The Tanglewood, and Cynthia spoke to a young woman there this morning. Sherilyn Drummond?"

  "Yes."

  "I've been trying to call your cell, and I just thought maybe it would be better if we spoke in person."

  "It's no intrusion at all," Carly answered for her. "Why don't you two go out to the patio and have a seat. I'll bring iced tea."

  Audrey couldn't help it, and a chuckle rolled out. The consummate hostess.

  "Would you give me a few minutes?" Riley asked.

  Audrey's brain couldn't stop running scenarios, and Kat poked her in the back with her index finger.

  "Of course," she fi
nally answered. "Let's go outside."

  Once they settled at the patio table, Riley raked her dark hair. "It's gorgeous out here, isn't it? It's already so cold in Chicago."

  "Oh. That's right. You're from Chicago."

  She nodded. "I'm flying back home tomorrow, so I'm very happy Cynthia was able to find you before I have to go."

  "What did you . . . want to talk to me about?"

  "Lisette's gown."

  "Oh." She mulled it over before adding, "What about it?"

  "The draping, the construction," she said. "And the way it fit Lisette. You inspired me. And that's not easy to do anymore."

  "I'm . . . Thank you."

  Carly seemed to tiptoe through the door, and she placed two glasses of tea on the table. "Don't mind me," she said, disappearing again.

  "I'll get right to it," Riley said. "Have you ever been to London Fashion Week?"

  Audrey chuckled. "No."

  "Well, I have a show there next February."

  "Really!" she exclaimed. "Congratulations."

  "Thank you. I'll be showing my spring and summer line, and I normally finish with a couple of statement pieces."

  "I know. I saw your New York runway show two years ago when you had that Latin-inspired wedding gown with the feathers and that train. Oh!" she moaned. "It was spectacular!"

  "Thank you. Well, this year, I'm thinking of something a little different. And I wondered if you might be interested."

  Interested!

  "Interested?"

  Riley slid forward to the edge of her chair. "What if my statement piece at the finale of my show in London is to introduce . . . my new plus-size label."

  Audrey's heartbeat fluttered. "Your new . . ."

  Riley used both hands to create an imaginary marquee over them. "Audrey Regan. For Riley Eastwood."

  "Are you joking?" Because it's not very funny, if you are.

  "No. Of course not." Riley snickered and shook her head. "Audrey, I told you. You inspired me. You did for Lisette what I wasn't able to do, and it got me to thinking. What if we blended our skills? You, the up and coming new designer— and me, the established one. You infuse new blood into my line while I expand into a niche market. What do you think?"