by Francis Ray
She’d even received a call from the AFL-CIO about representing her in a lawsuit again Harrington for discrimination. She’d refused. That night over a dinner they’d both prepared because they’d both gotten home late, she’d told Alex about the call and asked him why he hadn’t suggested the lawsuit.
His gaze hadn’t wavered. “Because you weren’t strong enough to go against Harrington or your parents.”
“And now?” she asked, unaware that she was holding her breath.
“Say the word, and I’ll make them pay for every tear you shed,” he told her, his eyes cold.
Her lips trembled. “Alex.” Getting up, she rounded the table. He met her, holding her tightly to him.
“No one is ever going to hurt you again.”
She lifted her head. “Yes, they will, but as long as I have you, I’ll be all right.”
His gaze flared hot. His mouth took hers, his tongue tasting and tangling with hers. Picking her up, he started for the bedroom. “Dinner is going to be late.”
She bit his earlobe. “I’ll just make a feast of you.”
With a throaty growl, he tumbled them into his bed, his body covering her, letting her feel his desire. He touched her and her body went up in flames. She wanted, needed this joining of body and heart and soul with this man. As he brought them together with one sure thrust, she clamped around him. The loving was fast and hard and when it was over and her body spent, she held him tightly and realized something else: She needed his heart as well.
* * *
Dianne was working on a design in the studio when the phone rang. Her lip pulled between her teeth in concentration, she ignored the call. She and Greg had agreed they needed twenty pieces to launch the D&A collection. She was working on a dress with a coat, trying to decide if she wanted it reversible.
Reluctantly, Dianne straightened. The phone was probably equal distance between them, but since Greg was sewing up one of their designs, Dianne eased off the stool and went to pick up. “D and A of New York,” she answered, again thinking they needed a slogan.
“Dianne Harrington?” asked the crisp voice.
She straightened. “Yes.”
“This is Simone Davis, the women’s fashion buyer for Merrill Department Stores. I wanted to see your designs, if possible.”
Dianne pressed a trembling hand to her stomach. Merrill, a high-end department store, had outlets scattered across the country. Their flagship store was on Madison Avenue. They’d carried Harrington clothes for five years. “That could be arranged. What time would be convenient?” she said calmly, as if her heart weren’t doing backflips.
“This afternoon at two all right?”
“You’re in luck. We have an opening.” Dianne gave the buyer the address.
“We’ll see you then. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.”
Dianne hung up and squealed. Greg started. Grinning she ran to him and kissed him loudly on the cheek. “A buyer from Merrill is coming at two.”
“Well, hot damn!”
“I’m going to the corner deli and see if they have a small tray and a bottle of wine,” She said. The phone rang again just as she picked up her purse. Her gaze met Greg’s. In his eyes, she saw the same worry. What if the buyer was calling back to cancel?
“No,” Dianne said as if to reassure them both. Crossing the room, she answered the phone. “D and A of New York.”
“Dianne Harrington, please. This is Steve Miller, the women’s fashion buyer for Dawson’s.”
Dianne mouthed Another buyer to Greg. She knew Steve and had had dinner with him and his wife. “This is Dianne, Steve.”
“Dianne, I thought that was you,” he said. “We’re getting a lot of requests for your clothes. I’d like to see the line.”
“We’re booked today, how about tomorrow?” she asked.
“I’ll take the earliest you have for tomorrow.”
“For you, Steve, I’ll be here at nine.” She gave him the address.
“I’ll be there.”
* * *
The buyers not only came, they purchased the spring D&A line. Dianne asked for and was granted a special night to introduce the clothes in each flagship store. With each order, she blogged the news. She received calls from the buyers, thanking her for the mention. Customers were already asking when the clothes would be available. Hearing this, Dianne started a countdown on her blog. At the end of two weeks, they had orders from ten chain stores and two boutiques.
They were going to make it. Dianne made duplicate copies of each order and took them home with her to place in a folder. If she ever thought she was dreaming, she could look at them.
She was only too happy, and so were the stores that had purchased the line, to let the people on her blog know where they could purchase the clothes for spring. Now having the studio made perfect sense. The business offices would be on the top floor, and the manufacturing end and storage on the main floor.
Her life was turning around. She was headed toward being the independent woman she had always wanted to be. Fashion magazines were calling for interviews. She couldn’t have been busier, and she enjoyed every moment.
A surprise call was Elaine at Macy’s. She wanted to know if D&A would like to show a couple of designs at an upcoming luncheon. Dianne jumped at the chance. If the clothes were a hit, the buyer might order.
She blogged about the event. To her amazed delight, when she and the models climbed out of the limo—Alex’s idea—women were waiting for them. It had been Dianne’s idea for her models to wear the clothes there. That way women not at the fashion show would see them. It proved to be a bit of marketing genius.
Since there were so many women, the local TV station sent a reporter with a camera. Dianne repeated the story of why she was fired, which propelled her to a new career. When the news story ran that night, her blog hits went through the roof. More women were incensed on her behalf.
“I never would have believed this,” she said to Alex as she typed a post.
“Told you.”
She threw him a quick grin, finished typing, and hit SEND. “This feels good.”
Warm lips pressed against the back of her neck. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Hmmm.” She momentarily leaned back against him, then straightened. “Don’t tempt me. I have to answer these posts.”
“It’s almost ten. That will take most of the night,” Alex protested.
“I’m sorry,” she said, typing again. “I want the women posting to know I care. But you go on to bed.”
“I want you with me,” he protested.
Her hands paused. She looked at him. Desire stared back at her. She felt the familiar tingling sensation in her body. Her nipples tightened beneath her blouse. She wanted to lean into him, but she didn’t want to risk offending anyone. Helping the company be successful would put her on an even keel with Alex, and she could finally tell him she loved him.
He straightened. “Don’t stay up too long.”
“I won’t,” she murmured, watching him walk away, wanting to follow him. Firmly she turned, giving her attention to the blog. This was for both of them. She’d make it up to him when she went to bed.
* * *
Stopping at the door of his office, Alex stared at Dianne. Was he losing her already? The more successful her company became, the less time they spent together. They saw each other at breakfast, but she didn’t get home some nights until ten, and then she’d go to the computer to answer the blog comments. He wanted her to be her own woman, but he hadn’t taken into consideration that the more successful she was, the less she’d need him.
Still, he wouldn’t change a thing. He wanted her to be happy, wanted to see a smile on her beautiful face instead of worry and defeat. He should have remembered that her life was very different from his.
He turned to go to his room just as the doorbell rang. He was almost grateful for the interruption of his thoughts. He’d find a way to bind Dianne to him. “Are you e
xpecting anyone?”
“No,” she said, continuing to type.
Alex went to the door and opened it, and wanted to slam it shut when he saw Dianne’s parents. Two beautiful people as cold as the diamonds in her mother’s ears.
“Hello, Alex,” her father greeted, as if it had been ten minutes instead of ten years since they’d spoken. “We’ve come to see Dianne.”
“Why?” he asked, still blocking their entrance by holding the door.
Her mother frowned. “That should be obvious. She’s our daughter.”
“When it’s convenient. You’re not hurting her again.”
Her father’s smile slid from his handsome face. “We want to see Dianne.”
“You’re not hurting her again,” Alex repeated. “Leave or I’ll call security.”
“You can’t threaten—”
“Mom. Dad.”
Alex jerked around to see Dianne a few feet behind him. When he did, her parents rushed past him, enveloping Dianne in a hug.
“Sweetheart,” her mother cooed.
“Precious,” her father said.
Alex wanted to toss both of them out. Instead he closed the door. Her parents had never wanted or loved Dianne. From the way she clung to them, the hope shining in her eyes, she’d forgotten they’d turned their back on her. Alex hadn’t, and he never would.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“The security man at your old place still had Alex’s card,” her mother answered, brushing her hand affectionately over Dianne’s head. She looked at Alex with a smile on her face, but her eyes were cold. “Thank you for taking care of Dianne, but that won’t be necessary any longer.”
“What do you two want?” Alex asked, afraid he already knew.
With his arm around Dianne’s shoulder, her father stared down into her face. “Our daughter, of course. She’s proven she can take Harrington to the next level, just as her mother and I always knew.”
Alex wasn’t buying the crap, but from the look on Dianne’s face, she believed them. “You have a strange way of showing your support. When she needed you the most, you turned your back on her.”
Her mother faced Dianne. “Forgive us. It was a calculated risk to push you into becoming the woman we always knew you could be.”
Dianne shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Boswell was never our choice as CEO. He just needed enough rope to hang himself,” her father said. “Since your unwarranted firing, the board has been inundated with e-mails calling for his resignation. Harrington’s public image has taken a hit and with it, orders were canceled.”
“Boswell is being replaced, as well he should be,” her mother said. “The board wants you back. So do we.”
“She’s not going,” Alex said.
Her father cut Alex a look. “We appreciate your helping Dianne, but you have no say in what she does.”
“Dianne and I are partners, that gives me a right,” Alex told him.
“Surely her welfare is more important than a partnership,” her mother put in. “Harrington House is established. You can’t say that about this new venture. The public might be interested now, but what about months from now? Dianne is aware of all the lines that start and then fold.”
“Harrington House has established itself as a leader in the fashion industry. You could lose the money you’ve invested in a season,” her father said.
“That won’t happen. Dianne will see that it won’t,” Alex said, wanting to pull Dianne away from her manipulative parents. They were giving her what she’d always wanted, their love and faith in her.
“Dianne, you know how your grandfather loved the company and wanted it to flourish. You can help that happen,” her father said. “Come back to Harrington House.”
“You want me back?”
“Yes, sweetheart.” Her mother brushed her hair back. “With our ruling percentage, you can design or model, whatever you want.”
Dianne’s stomach was jumping, her emotions all over the place. Her parents wanted her to come back to Harrington. They wanted her. Her gaze went to Alex, strong, steady. “I already have a design house.”
“You can incorporate it into Harrington,” her mother quickly said. “You can become the head designer of D and A, and continue as the lead model for the D line. You can have it all.”
And there would be no place for him, Alex thought.
“What about the other model?” Dianne asked.
Her mother rolled her eyes. “Turns out she was Boswell’s niece. The board wasn’t happy to learn about it, either. Your apartment is waiting for you. I spent the day having the place cleaned. It’s just as if you never left.” Her mother reached into her handbag and pulled out a key. “Here you go. We can go there tonight if you wish to see if everything is the way you want. Your things can be sent tomorrow. I can help you unpack.”
“You’d help?”
She laughed and hugged Dianne. Dianne was almost as stunned by the statement as the hug. Her mother didn’t even unpack her own clothes. She wasn’t the hugging type—at least not with Dianne.
“It’s just my way of letting you know how proud of you we are,” her mother said. “But tonight, we want you to come back to our hotel suite. We want to start making it up to you for all you’re gone though.”
“Dianne is staying here, and she’s continuing with D and A,” Alex said. “You turned your backs on her, and now you want her to help the company out.”
“We want our daughter,” her mother insisted, then turned to Dianne. “Why don’t you grab enough for tonight and we’ll be on our way.”
“I said she’s not going anyplace,” Alex said.
“That’s my daughter’s decision,” her father said, smiling down at Dianne.
Her parents wanted her. She’d hoped and prayed for so long. It had finally happened.
“Come on, Dianne. Let’s get your things, and we can be on our way.” Her mother took Dianne’s arm. “Which way?”
Dianne looked at Alex, the one person who she had always counted on. He’d offered hope when she felt hopeless. And she could read absolutely nothing on his face.
“Dianne, let’s go,” her mother urged. “Your life isn’t here. You’ll be the toast of the fashion world. You’ll make your grandfather and us proud. This is what you were destined to do, and you know it.”
Still she stared at the man she had counted on since she was five years old. Not once had he let her down. “Alex?”
“I want you to stay, but it’s your decision.”
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. That wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. They might have started out as friends turned lovers because of her suggestion, but she wanted so much more. She wanted his love, his children. She should have remembered that people didn’t stick around for the long haul in her life. She couldn’t blame Alex. He’d want a woman who was his equal.
She’d made strides, but her mother was right. Orders for the D&A line didn’t mean automatic success. They could be out of business in less than a year. She didn’t think she could bear Alex seeing her fail again, especially when he’d bankrolled the company.
“It’s this way.” She turned toward the guest bedroom, fighting the growing lump in her throat. Silently, she picked up her small suitcase and threw a few things inside, all the time fighting tears and misery.
“I personally picked out several outfits, so you don’t need much,” her mother said as she grabbed a shoe bag.
Dianna stared at her mother putting shoes into the bag, then going to her jewelry case and picking it up. Dianna didn’t have to search her mind to realize that helping her pack was another first. Before now, she was always on her own. “Why now?”
Her mother glanced up from shutting the specially made Vuitton case. “What?”
“Why are you finally acting like the mother I always wanted?” Dianne asked.
Lines of irritation radiated across her mother’s forehead and at the cor
ner of her mouth. “Dianne, what a question. I think we have everything. The car is waiting.”
“It will have to wait until I get an answer,” Dianne said. “You and Father basically ignored me all of my life. I would have done anything to have you fuss over me, hug me the way you did tonight, but I never could please either of you.”
Her mother blew out an exasperated breath. “I raised you the way my parents raised me. It helped me to be the woman I am today. I’d hoped you would grow up the same way.”
“Hoped.” Dianne latched on to that one word. “You and Father were ashamed of me until I became the face of Harrington.”
“That’s a harsh and untrue accusation,” her mother flared. “Your father and I are very proud of you. You’ve shown you have what it takes to keep Harrington House one of the top design houses in the country.”
“And coming back will soothe buyers and customers,” Dianne said. “You need me to do damage control.”
Her mother acted as if she wouldn’t answer, but then, “Yes, but it’s also what your grandfather wanted.”
“You didn’t seem to remember that when you let Boswell fire me.” Dianna tossed.
“Because we thought it best for the survival of the company,” her mother protested.
“The company that ensures that you and Father have a hefty check deposited in your account monthly,” Dianna said.
“You’ve also benefited from the company,” her mother quickly pointed out. “We all gain.”
“And if there had been no fallout, you wouldn’t be here, would you?” Dianne asked. Her mother had the grace to flush.
Dianne was surprised she didn’t feel the usual regret, the inadequacies. Her parents didn’t love her. She’d finally accepted that. Was she that unlovable? Alex certainly hadn’t declared his love. They were great in bed and out, but that didn’t mean he loved her. Or did it? There was only one way to find out. “I changed my mind. I’m not going.”
Her mother’s eyes widened with alarm. “What? You have to come!”
“No, I don’t,” Dianne said. “You made your choice the day I was fired, and now I’ve made mine.”
