Her Moment in the Spotlight

by Nina Harrington

  ‘What do you say? Truce, partner?’

  Mimi pulled back slightly so as not to get burned by the charm offensive designed to melt the coldest of hearts, and cursed herself for being practical enough to want the rental fee while being able to keep tight control over the arrangements for the show.

  The fact that Hal Langdon came with the deal was just something she was going to have to deal with. At least they were getting to know each other a bit better now.

  Unfortunately he also had a good point—like it or not, they were on their own and would have to combine talents to make this project work.

  He was certainly right about one thing—they both needed this show to be a huge success.

  Mimi breathed in slowly and calmed herself. A few hours a day; that was all he was talking about. And it meant that she could be directly involved in any decisions that needed to be taken without having to leave her shop to travel to Covent Garden every day for the next week.

  Which is why she squeezed her lips together and nodded. ‘Okay. Truce it is. You can rent the space for the next week at the going rate, on condition that we really do work together on this show and you include me in any decisions. Do we have a deal?’

  Yes! Hal felt like punching the air. At last he had finally managed to score a point with this girl and find a space large enough with high enough ceilings so that he did not feel the walls were pressing in on him. The hospital had warned him about cabin fever but he had never expected borderline claustrophobia. Poppy’s office was so small he felt stifled.

  This room was going to make a huge difference.

  The morning was turning out a lot better than he had expected.

  He could not resist rubbing his palms together and giving Mimi a sharp nod. ‘Excellent. How soon can I get started?’

  Mimi lowered her hands and got back to the task of packing yarn for the exhibition for a few seconds to allow her offer to sink in before going on.

  ‘Once these exhibits are cleared, I will be working flat out to get the fashion collection ready for the show. The patio leads onto the rear yard, so you would be free to come and go as you want.’

  Hal scanned the room from side to side before nodding slowly several times. ‘This is good. This is going to work; I like it. What about the computer side—Internet, that sort of thing?’

  ‘Right here.’

  Tucked into a corner of the room was an L-shaped modern polymer desk with a top-of-the-range desktop computer connected to a pair of large flat-screen monitors and a modern tower processing-unit. The scanner and printer were arranged in a straight line to the right of the keyboard and digital drawing tablet. It was neat, clean, organized, impressive. A large artist’s portfolio-case covered most of the side table, which was supported by a cabinet fitted with wide shallow map-drawers.

  Mimi gestured to the keyboard. ‘I do most of my design work directly on-screen. Please take a seat.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, taken aback about the order and calm of the work station. ‘Why don’t you just start up like normal, and I’ll ask questions as we go?’

  Mimi dropped into a hard, wooden dining-room chair, which looked like something his sister would have thrown out twenty years earlier, and pointed to a matching chair a few feet away. It was fitted with a tapestry cushion embroidered with pink-and-white rabbits with the word ‘Bunnies’ in brown across the top. ‘Please sit. You must need to rest your leg by now.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he murmured and half collapsed onto the wide carver chair. The relief was so great that he had to fight off the urge to sigh out loud. By kneading his thigh muscles hard with both fists, the aching pain and pressure of his weight on the smashed bones in his ankle was almost bearable. The last few days had been too much too soon and his bones were certainly complaining today.

  It was only when he opened his eyes and looked up that he had realised that Mimi was already working hard on her computer.

  ‘You’ve taken your shoes off,’ Hal murmured out loud, and was instantly embarrassed. He had not intended to draw attention to the fact that he was staring at Mimi’s feet. They were wrapped in thin black stockings and she wrapped them around the back legs of the chair in a totally sensual way so that the soles of her feet were pitched towards him. A wave of heat made him sit back in the damned uncomfortable chair. What was it about this woman? Get a grip, man.

  ‘Must be a bit cold,’ he said in an over-loud voice, trying to sound as casual and unconcerned as possible. ‘Without shoes, I mean.’

  Mimi pulled her legs forward, looked down at her feet and grinned. ‘Force of habit. I didn’t even realise I had done that but, no, I’m never cold in here. Usually way too busy, even when I am tired.’

  ‘Tired?’

  Mimi nodded but did not turn around as she logged on to the computer and opened up the broadband Internet connection.

  ‘If you recall, we did work quite hard yesterday before Poppy had to take off. And there is always work to do on the collection. You’ll be pleased to know that I actually finished the hand sewing on the last two evening dresses yesterday, and the others should be ready in time.’

  His smile faltered. ‘Yesterday? I don’t want to be critical, but isn’t that leaving it a little late when the show is less than a week away?’

  Mimi chuckled. ‘Not at all. I can think of two professional fashion shows where the clothes were being finished in the changing room ten minutes before the models had to wear them on stage. In my case the crystals I ordered did not arrive until late last month. The original supplier sent the wrong colour, and I had to send them back, so that really delayed things.’

  He squeezed his eyebrows together before replying. ‘Crystals come in more than one colour?’

  She sniffed once and shook her head slowly from side to side.

  ‘You see, this is where specialist technical knowledge is so important. Although I suppose it does mean that there is one small job which you could help me with.’

  ‘Ouch!’ The killer smile flashed back on and Mimi positively basked in the heat of it. ‘What do you need me to do?’

  Without a second’s hesitation, Mimi turned fully towards him and leapt in with a smile. ‘The two evening gowns have to be photographed for the show catalogue. Poppy was waiting for these last two dresses to be finished before organising the photographer and models. Do you think you could organise that in her place? Or would you like me to arrange it? That way you could just give me the job of catwalk director now and save time. You could just go home now and leave me to it.’

  Hal chuckled out loud, the deep-belly sound echoing around the studio, and the teenagers went silent for a second then started giggling again at the back of the room.

  ‘Oh, I think I can manage that, Miss Ryan. Besides, I would hate to miss the student exhibition. How could you be so cruel as to suggest such a thing? I have been looking forward to it all morning!’

  ‘Oh, you wouldn’t have to miss it at all,’ she replied in a flash. ‘Everyone is welcome. So, you see, you could let me arrange things, rent the studio and see the exhibition—and all in one morning. Now, doesn’t that sound efficient? Or are you scared of taking the risk now you are trapped inside unfamiliar territory?’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HAL rocked back on the hard wooden chair so hard that he had to clutch on to the edge of the desk to stop himself from tipping the chair backwards.

  Scared of taking a risk? Ridiculous.

  The challenge knocked him sideways. A swell of focused energy bubbled up from deep within him, shocking him with its intensity. This show was his responsibility. He was accountable to Poppy and to Tom.

  But for the first time since Poppy had passed over the reins he started to feel excited and even invigorated by the task he had been given. Perhaps this was the ideal project to shake him out of his grief and give him a reason to get out of bed in the morning.

  One thing was already clear—he was going to need Mimi Ryan to make it a success. But how?
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  ‘You are not going to let this drop, are you?’ Hal asked.

  ‘Nope. I shall persist until you realise that I am the best and only person to manage the show. Resistance is futile.’

  ‘Well, that remains to be seen,’ he eventually managed to say, then nodded to the PC. ‘Thanks for showing me the computer. Have we got time to see the rest of the studio before heading out?’

  Mimi stretched sideways to look over Hal’s shoulder to check what the girls were doing, and nodded as she gathered her papers together. ‘At least another five minutes. Right this way, just past the knitting kits and pattern books.’

  Hal was just about to speak when he pointed at the bundle of pink and lavender cards on Mimi’s desk. ‘Are those your birthday cards?’

  Mimi picked up a bright pink card with a picture of a cat wearing a tutu on the cover. ‘You are very observant. Yes, they are birthday cards. But these are for my mother, not for me.’

  Mimi popped the cards into her bag so quickly that Hal did not have a chance to look at them, and she started walking down the room. ‘The bathroom and shower are just down to the right and there is a refrigerator next to the big table. We have a kettle and toaster, so you could call it a mini-kitchen, if you like.’

  ‘Hey, slow down,’ he replied, having decided to ignore the fact that she wanted to change the subject as soon as she possibly could. ‘Tell me more about the refrigerator—my guys like their beer.’

  Mimi’s pace slowed and she glanced at him before asking, ‘Exactly how many guys are you talking about? I don’t want a complete invasion.’

  ‘Two on lighting and sound and at least three or four at the event, so more than a couple of volunteers would be here at any one time.’

  ‘Oh, that’s fine,’ she breathed with a sigh of relief. ‘These tables are designed to seat eight but I can squeeze in a full class of fourteen at a push.’

  Hal nodded. ‘Ever thought of going into sales? Oh, wait—’ he smiled ‘—you are in sales.’

  Mimi narrowed her eyes in reply. ‘Anything else I can show you, Mr Langdon?’

  ‘What do you use that space there for?’

  Hal pointed to a fine mesh screen which had been decorated with découpage flowers of old roses and summer flowers.

  ‘A room divider,’ she replied a little too quickly and Hal’s brow pulled together.

  Oh, no; she had completely forgotten about the screen and the single bed!

  When her mother had been ill, she had not been able to manage the stairs, and Mimi had set up a bed for her in the studio where she could see the patio garden and be close to the bathroom and work area at the same time. That way Mimi could chat and keep an eye on her during the day. The vascular dementia that had followed her mother’s first stroke was a side effect they had not been prepared for—and when the confusion and distress became too great it had been reassuring for her mother to be in the same room as Mimi.

  Of course, she had not been able to bring students here during those terrible months, but it had been worth it for the extra time that they had shared together.

  Mimi turned away from Hal and lifted back the screen against the wall. Her fingers stroked the pink full-blown roses that they had stuck onto the mesh together in an effort to create some privacy when she had wanted to sleep or, at the end, weep.

  Mental illness was so cruel, especially when it happened so quickly. One day her mother had been a normal, happy woman, and the next…

  She closed her eyes and swallowed down a surge of regret and grief. Perhaps this was all happening too soon; she wasn’t ready for the upset and turmoil in her life. Not yet. Not when she was so very, very tired.

  One example of the turmoil was right at her side.

  ‘If it is all the same to you I think I will turn the screen around. Too girly! But the bed is just fine.’

  ‘Yes, you are probably right,’ she quickly replied, gathering herself together and plastering on a smile, but not daring to look him in the face quite just yet. Instead she bustled forward and was just opening one of the long double-glazed doors when her brain registered what Hal had just said.

  ‘I’m sorry. Did you say that the bed is just fine?’

  ‘Sure. Normally I would bring my tent and camping gear but sleeping in a tent would be a little tricky at the moment.’

  Hal knocked his crutch twice against the floor and leant on it a little heavier than normal for dramatic effect. ‘Have you been to my sister’s apartment? Two flights of stairs. No lift. It took me ten minutes to make it down this morning. I need somewhere to stay, and this would be ideal, all on the ground floor and fully equipped. I’ll have no problem sleeping down here.’

  Sleeping here? When had she agreed to that?

  ‘Wouldn’t you be better off in a hotel or a bed and breakfast?’

  Hal scrubbed the back of his head and thought about just how much he was prepared to share with Mimi, who was looking at him with such surprise and alarm in her eyes that there was only one thing to do—trust her with just enough about himself to seal the deal.

  ‘The truth is I have spent most of the last five months either in hospital or in a wheelchair, trapped indoors. A prisoner in my own home. I never realised how many stairs there were in my chalet until I had to negotiate them every day just to reach the bathroom or kitchen. After a few months, it really does feel like the walls are closing in on you.’

  He gestured with one hand to the sunlit patio on the other side of the glass doors. ‘I adore Poppy, but her apartment and her office are too small and congested for me right now. Same goes for London hotels. Sorry, I am not explaining myself very well—but I need the high ceilings and air to breathe. Does that make any kind of sense?’

  Mimi leant back against the edge of the table so that she was facing Hal when she replied, but she made him wait several full seconds which seemed to go on for ever before giving her answer. ‘Actually, it makes perfect sense. I can see that you would have problems with the stairs, and a cramped London flat is hardly what you are used to. Although, I should warn you, it can get pretty busy around here.’ She lifted her chin a little higher and caught the full force of him in switched-on, testosterone-seduction mode.

  His voice was an octave lower, and as he leant on the counter she could see the texture of his tongue as he licked his upper lip before talking. Her heart thumped in her chest.

  He patted his shoulder bag and winked at her. ‘Like you say, I am deep in foreign territory. I have my camping gear, my faithful camera at the ready and a couple of spare memory cards. I’m ready for anything.’

  ‘And here we have the signature item of wearable art from today’s show which I understand was designed by the course tutor for the students to work on. The label simply says “jacket of hand-knitted silk lace with embroidered silk moiré”. And how exactly would you describe this piece, Miss Ryan? I’m sure our readers would be interested in your design concept.’

  Mimi smiled patiently at the fashion reporter from a major London newspaper who had arrived only minutes after the student exhibition had opened.

  ‘I would be happy to, Paul. As you can see, the shape of the jacket was inspired by classical Japanese haori clothing. Studio Designs specialises in fine hand-knitting, so my idea was to create a three-dimensional effect by adding a layer of hand-knitted lace over an embroidered silk jacket in a contrast colour. The lining is moiré silk, with the same flowers embroidered in silver. Each layer of the jacket was completed by a separate team of students, so this truly is a masterpiece made by all of the students here today.’

  The words had barely left Mimi’s lips when Hal Langdon came in through the main entrance to the student exhibition and stood, frozen, directly in front of the jacket as the breeze from the door gently separated the delicate thin layers of knitted lace so that the silk fabric shone through in shimmering, iridescent blue and green shades.

  To Mimi’s delight there was a spontaneous round of applause and sighs of rapture from the st
udents. Mimi left Paul taking photographs and chatting to the students and strolled over to Hal.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Mimi asked Hal, not sure what his reply was going to be, judging from the stunned look on his face.

  This was one part of showing her work that she always dreaded at student shows—the judging. Whether it was the professional tutors who would award the students their marks, or family or guests, it was still her original design that the students had worked on and she never got used to the whirls of anxiety which twirled around the pit of her stomach.

  Mimi felt the heat rise on the back of her neck in tune with her blood pressure.

  Of course, there was no way that Hal could know she had been fighting to escape her Fiorini design heritage all of her working life.

  At college some of her fellow students had blatantly accused her of using Fiorini designs from decades earlier. Her tutors were constantly challenging her to be as different and controversial as possible to prove that she was capable of doing more than simply copying the ideas her mother had brought from Italy. Some had even asked her to arrange for them to work in Milan, assuming that she was part of the Fiorini family, with the influence to match.

  If only they knew the truth!

  It had taken years of working harder than anyone else on the course to convince her tutors that she was sincere about her determination to create her own style in her own way, without the support of a major couture design-house like Fiorini.

  Even now, every time she made something, there was always the constant doubt that there could be something similar in the Fiorini archive. Her life seemed to revolve around constant checking of old catalogues to make sure she could never be accused of plagiarism, but it was so very difficult and so tiring to be constantly trying to defend her originality.

  Hal knew nothing about her past or her connection to the famous family of couture designers. In fact, he did not know any more about her than she knew about him—which was precious little.