Her Moment in the Spotlight

by Nina Harrington

  Which meant that his opinion was going to be totally unbiased, plain and direct.

  She had made so much effort to help Hal Langdon understand her work and why her designs were so important to her she would hate it if he made some dismissive remark now, especially when the students had worked hard on the pieces. She needed him to like her designs and want to make them shine if they were going to work together over the next week.

  Hal stepped slowly around the jacket one shuffling step at a time until he had made a full circle back to Mimi.

  Mimi sidled up next to Hal and moved her head from side to side so that she could see the jacket from the same angles, only with her arms folded across her chest.

  ‘Formed an opinion yet?’ she asked impatiently, unable to disguise the frustration in her voice. ‘You will notice that you could easily wear this jacket in the evening or during the day. And it is designed to fit the average-sized woman as well as the skinnier ones.’

  ‘I’m getting there; keep your frillies on. It’s just taking me a while. I do have a question that will help me make up my mind, if that’s okay?’ His head lifted and he glanced at her, waiting for her approval. Mimi unfolded her arms and flung open her fingers.

  ‘Please.’

  ‘You told the reporter that it was based on a Japanese design. Have you ever been to Japan to study the culture and art forms? Seen one like this?’

  Mimi fought not to sigh out loud. Of course, she would have loved to study in Japan, but it had been totally out of the question. How could she confess to an experienced traveller like Hal that her world was so small and confined without totally humiliating herself even more? She would sound totally pathetic. Better to just tell him the truth and get it over with.

  ‘I wasn’t that lucky. The only time I have been out of London was a summer spent in Milan when I was 14. I didn’t like it so I decided not to bother again. All my research has been through local museums, books and the Internet.’

  Hal’s mouth opened and his eyes widened. ‘One trip to Milan,’ he said incredulously. ‘Wow.’

  Then his shoulders straightened and he gave her a short bow from the waist, or as much of a bow as he could manage with his crutch. ‘In that case, Miss Ryan, I am doubly impressed. I lived in Japan for a few months and I couldn’t have captured the spirit of the clothing design as well as you have right here today. Congratulations. I am now officially impressed.’

  And with one final flourish he twirled his right hand in the air with a twist and winked at her.

  Mimi stared at him, open-mouthed, dumbfounded.

  It was the very last thing she had expected Hal to say, and much to her horror she knew that she was flushing bright red at the base of her neck. Her throat suddenly seemed so tight she could not swallow.

  He liked it. He really liked it. If she could have given out awards at that moment for making a girl feel better about herself, then Hal would have stood up with several laurel wreaths festooned around his unkempt hair and gold medals weighing heavily against that broad chest.

  Now, how did she respond to that?

  ‘Well, thank you. You are very kind.’

  ‘Speak it as I see it,’ he replied in a nonchalant casual voice and turned on his crutch to face the jacket. ‘Only, could you do me a favour?’ He twisted his head around to her and smiled. ‘Please do not show my sister this jacket unless you have a stockpile ready to pull out at a moment’s notice. I would never hear the end it if she found out I had seen an exclusive one-off and did not snap it up before anyone else had the chance. I don’t suppose…?’

  His eyebrows raised in a question, breaking the tension and really making her smile. ‘Not mine to sell. This jacket was made by the students, and the hand-knitting alone took a week. So, no; no stockpile. But I might make her one as a present over the winter. How about that?’

  Hal answered in a twist of his lips which was so charming and sweet that she could hardly contain her smile.

  How did he do it? How did he manage to turn the subject around and make her feel less anxious without knowing a thing about her problems?

  The expression on his face was so beguiling that they stood entranced for a few seconds in silence, simply looking at one another, before a bustle of bright chatter and activity from the entrance snapped Mimi out of her reverie.

  ‘If you would like to know more, the original concept-boards are right over here,’ Mimi suddenly added in a louder voice before Hal had a chance to reply. She smiled warmly to the new visitors to the gallery as she walked over to a large display-panel covered with coloured drawings, fabric samples and photographs.

  ‘Here are photographs of the actual jacket on display taken at various stages, right next to some pictures of the vintage jackets from London textile museums. The students have captured the natural elegance of the original design. Don’t you agree?’

  Hal hopped over to the photos she had taken in her studio and looked at each one in turn for several seconds, before nodding wisely and speaking in a normal voice against the background noise.

  ‘Oh, yes. Completely agree.’ He inched closer to Mimi and pretended to peer at the original sketch, before going on in such a soft voice that only Mimi would be able to hear him.

  ‘Well, you said earlier that you were a fashion designer, and so you are.’

  He lifted his head and turned so that their faces were only inches apart.

  ‘Gotta love a talented woman,’ he murmured, his voice low in his throat, before a soft smile widened his mouth and his brows came together. ‘How about some outrageous flattery for the benefit of the students, seeing as I am now their greatest fan?’

  He turned back to face the jacket and gave an exaggerated sigh of delight.

  He fluttered his eyes at her outrageously and pretended to be awestruck as he suppressed a smile, but his eyes gave him away. The smile lines creased down over his cheeks and his whole face lit up.

  Oh, no, she groaned inside. Is that a dimple? Could he be more obvious—and attractive? Keep it together, keep it together.

  ‘That is the most wonderful piece of clothing any designer could ever have imagined. And so beautifully knitted. And sewn. And stuff. And it is the most brilliant and stunning thing in the room.’ He lowered his voice and spoke out of the side of his mouth as Mimi stood next to him. ‘Apart from us, of course. How am I doing? Is that better?’

  ‘Some slight improvement.’ With that Mimi turned to face him and tilted her head to one side. ‘So. You have seen my work, you have checked that I am capable of organising a student exhibition and along the way demonstrated that we seem to share the same excellent taste in jackets. Is there something else I need to do before you can trust me and listen to my ideas?’

  What did Mimi have to do before he could trust her?

  That simple question knocked the wind from his sails so effectively that he had to take a second before nodding a reply, reaching into his bag and drawing out his favourite digital camera. ‘No promises. How about I take a few pictures and let you get on with your work? We can talk later.’

  ‘Be my guest. The students will love it—as long as you don’t take my picture, of course. I would hate to be responsible for breaking your camera. Today is all about the students, not me.’ And with one final smile she turned back to the cluster of people who had just wandered into the room, chatting happily as Hal stood in stunned silence.

  So, Mimi didn’t want her photograph taken.

  What was that all about?

  By force of instinct, Hal turned on his lightweight digital camera and brought it up with his right hand, hiding most of his face behind the camera as he focused on the jacket that Mimi had designed, as it moved and lifted with the breeze from the entrance and the air-conditioning fans. He would take the time to capture its spirit as best he could—and wonder in awe how a girl from a knitting shop who’d barely left London had created something so exotic and beautiful.

  The coordination between his hand and his eyes
was so automatic that he did not have to concentrate on the how—only the subjects he wanted to capture and where.

  He had never been interested in static objects and fixed diagrams—he wanted people. Especially people in action—how they walked, spoke, their mannerisms. People fighting the elements, or working with them to push themselves harder. That was what he was interested in.

  The rest of the gallery was starting to fill up now with the friends and family of the students who were exhibiting, plus the local press and college newspapers. The room was bustling with activity and happy chatter. It was unlike any other exhibition gallery he had ever been to—which, to be fair, was not many, but they had always been stuffy and formal. In total contrast, the atmosphere of this exhibition was casual and unpretentious.

  The knitting exhibits were displayed on round tables in clusters around the room so that the student could walk around each piece and chat about it from all sides. The overall atmosphere was unfussy, friendly, open and accessible. A delight. The space was probably an old college building transformed for the day into an exhibition space—and Mimi had done a terrific job. The lighting was soft, the walls were covered in just the right shade of cream to create a warm ambience for the textiles and the pedestals for the exhibits were just the right height. And, best of all, there were signs everywhere telling visitors that they could touch, feel and ask questions.

  He liked it. He liked it a lot.

  And if Mimi did not like having a photograph taken, well, he could work around that. Like now, for example. She had turned away from him to chat to a student, who looked so like the man and woman smiling next to her that they just had to be her proud parents.

  Hal leant back against the wall and took several general shots of the area before subtly and slowly zooming in on Mimi. Her head was tilted slightly towards the student, so that her long neck was in profile. Strands of her auburn hair fell loosely onto the neck of her jacket, where the coral shade highlighted her creamy skin and delicate shoulders and arms.

  One of her arms was resting on the exhibit table. The table held the knitted tea set he had seen in her studio, only now as he refocused the camera he could see that real cupcakes with soft, swirly icing piled on top had been added next to the knitted ones. A silver teaspoon was on the saucer. Sugar cubes were in the knitted sugar-bowl.

  It was fun, it was unique and it made the work look ten times more appealing. The knitting itself had not changed, only the way it had been staged.

  He hated that Poppy had been right when she’d told him that Mimi was perfect for the show. If this was an example of Mimi’s work, then he could use someone who had that level of creativity.

  His lens focused on her hand and the details of her pale skin and short, unpainted nails. There was no vanity here; they were clever working hands she needed to create her work. He could see the way her fingers stroked the texture of the stitches on the knitted plate as she laughed with the parents, the way she moved her neck when she answered one of their questions. She was totally engrossed, giving the family her total attention, oblivious to the fact that she was the subject of his attention.

  She was good with people and they warmed to her, sensing that she was genuinely interested in them and their work and had a passion for the craft.

  She was like a butterfly in a desert, unique and special even when surrounded by colour, movement and light.

  He had always admired butterflies, insects which by the rules of physics should not be able to fly or enchant but which achieved both in spectacular fashion. Rule breakers.

  Every aspect of her body and movement became hyper-important and he followed her to the next exhibit, capturing her head and the side of her face and movements as she laughed, hugged and chatted with the crowd.

  His finger pressed down on the shutter button again and again until she was swallowed up by a cluster of people who were all clamouring for her attention and he lost her.

  Hal lowered his arms.

  What did Mimi have to do before he could trust her?

  Wrong question. From that terrible day on the mountain, when Tom Harris had given him one last smile then stepped back to his death, there had only ever been one question.

  How could he ever forgive himself for failing to save Tom’s life?

  That terrible failure meant that he was destined to carry the secret behind Tom’s death to his own grave, if need be.

  He could not share that burden with anyone. Not even his own sister—and especially not Tom’s girlfriend, Aurelia, the beautiful woman Tom had sacrificed his own life to protect from the pain of having to watch him die from terminal illness.

  What would Mimi Ryan say if she knew that he was the biggest fool in the universe? He had become expert at kidding other people that he had it in the bag, that he knew what he was doing, that he had it all worked out. When all the time he was hiding his guilt and the true extent of his loss from the world. After a lifetime of being an over-achiever, he had failed the one time it had truly mattered.

  Would this beautiful, talented, warm, funny and authentic woman still want to work with him then?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TWO hours later Mimi followed Hal out of the gallery, and fell into step beside him.

  ‘You know, you really were quite shameless in there! Fancy charming the head of the department with vague promises of a talk on textiles in the Andes in exchange for promotion of our fashion show on the college website! Devious. That is the word—devious. I had no idea that you took such an interest in traditional handicrafts,’ Mimi said, dodging a cyclist.

  He huffed at that. ‘I must have hundreds of shots of local ladies knitting sweaters in the Andes. Might as well put them to good use.’

  Mimi shot him a quick glance, not entirely sure that he was being serious. ‘Um, and I look forward to seeing them. Do you normally resort to those sorts of devious practices in the name of publicity?’

  ‘Oh, you would be surprised at the tricks I have up my sleeve. A lot of athletes would rather go to the dentist than have their photo taken. Paragliding? No problem. But put them in front of a camera, different story. Now, fashion models on the other hand? Ah. It is amazing how one sniff of pizza can motivate a girl—or a guy, for that matter.’

  ‘Actually, I like my dentist, but I see your point,’ Mimi said, checking the side roads for kamikaze motorcycles. ‘You do know that I shall have to cross the street every time I see the poor woman? Just in case she asks me when you are coming back to give your talk.’

  ‘Oh, ye of little faith. I will do it. Poppy will put something in my diary then chase me up at regular intervals to make sure that it happens. You can stay on the same side of the street in safety.’

  ‘I am glad to hear it. Getting back to Langdon Events; is there much pressure—from Poppy, I mean—to follow in her proud footsteps and work on the management side? She does seem a little stressed at the moment.’

  Hal sighed. ‘I have been begging her to take an assistant ever since she took over the business on her own, but she is as stubborn as I am. Somewhere in her heart I think she still wants to go back to fashion modelling one day. In the meantime she’s doing okay. Apparently she actually likes trying to pull together people, places, entertainment and the like, so that other people have fun. Enjoys it, even. That’s why she leaves me to work on the sports and photography side of the business.’

  Mimi negotiated two taxis and a bus before checking that Hal was still with her.

  ‘Right!’ Mimi rolled her eyes. Hal Langdon was so laid back he was practically horizontal. She could have thumped him, but instead she slipped past him and strolled into her shop, where her friend Helena was chatting happily to two regulars. As she indicated for Hal to go ahead into the studio, it was only too obvious that Helena had already been spreading the word about Mimi’s new friend.

  Even Mrs Papadopoulos—seventy-two, widow, twelve grandchildren, riddled with arthritis, always bought machine-washable acrylic—was checking out Hal�
��s spectacular rear as he walked through.

  Incredible.

  Not that she blamed her. Those jeans could not have been tighter.

  ‘Happy Birthday to Talia, my dear. Happy Birthday.’

  ‘Thank you. You are very kind.’

  Hal had already slipped off his jacket and was unpacking his camera bag by the time Mimi caught up with him at the computer desk. He gestured towards the stack of pink-and-purple envelopes while she tried not to ogle at his muscular arms, which were strong, sinewy and taut.

  ‘Looks like your mum has a bumper crop of cards. Are you planning to have a birthday party?’

  He raised his arm and waved it around with a dramatic flourish.

  ‘Should additional entertainment be needed, I have a wide variety of anecdotes on my exploits and adventures which could be yours for the price of a good dinner. And, seeing as it is your mum, I would be willing to throw in a free slide-show on your computer of the knitting and textile crafts of South America, India, Nepal and several parts of East Africa.’

  ‘All for the sake of a good meal? Well, that is a good offer.’ Mimi smiled, but she did not dare look at him. ‘Sorry, no party.’

  ‘Don’t say that I have missed it. I was looking forward to meeting your mother and finding out where you got your good looks from. Maybe she’ll see that I have potential in the fashion trade.’

  Mimi’s hands found things to do with two large boxes of knitting-kit bags which had just been delivered in the post.

  Time to say it out loud and move on.

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but my mother passed away six months ago. A stroke; she had been ill for a while. All her friends agreed that we should remember her birthday. That’s all.’

  She inhaled a long breath and turned back to face Hal, but as she did so her hand caught one of the cartons which overturned onto the floor with a soft thud, breaking the tense atmosphere.

  Hal was there to pick it up before she had fully realised that he had moved, so that when she swung back down he was there by her side.