Her Moment in the Spotlight

by Nina Harrington

  But he was the gatekeeper on the door to her dreams, and if she had to share some of her life with him it would be worth it.

  ‘You’re right. It might help if you understood why I am putting myself through all of this when there is already enough going on in my life.’

  Hal nodded and stretched his legs out under the table. ‘Not might help—it will help. I have time; start when you ready. I need to know everything.’

  Mimi inhaled a long, deep breath, took one look into those intense brown eyes which were focused unblinkingly on her face, and tried to drop away some of the tension that was building in her shoulders.

  Where to start?

  She got up from the table and returned a few seconds later holding a glossy fashion magazine in one hand and a framed picture in the other.

  ‘Have you ever heard of the Italian couture house of Fiorini?’

  Hal’s lips twisted in surprise. ‘Fiorini? Yes, I think Poppy worked for them in Milan when she was a teenager. She loved the evening-wear.’

  ‘That was their speciality. If you needed a red-carpet gown or cocktail dress, then Fiorini was the only place to go. They used to produce some lovely work.’

  ‘Okay, that’s all very interesting, but what has that got to do with Mimi Ryan?’

  Her response was to turn the fashion magazine around so that Hal could see the cover photo of a handsome, sophisticated man. The headline read: Fiorini International. A luxury brand taking over the world.

  He glanced at the photo once and waited.

  ‘Meet my cousin,’ Mimi said in a low voice. ‘Luca Fiorini. The current CEO of Fiorini International.’

  Mimi could not resist smiling at her mother’s picture before lowering it flat onto the table.

  ‘My mother’s full name was Talia Isabella Mimi Costa Fiorini Ryan. And she was the great-granddaughter of the founder of the Fiorini dynasty.’ Mimi smiled across at Hal. ‘So, you see? I am a Fiorini. Body and soul.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘MAY I?’ Hal asked, gesturing towards the silver-framed photograph, and Mimi handed him the picture.

  The very pretty young woman he was looking at was medium height with slim arms and legs; her silk summer dress highlighted delicate features which screamed elegance and class.

  Mimi’s mother was standing in a stunning garden with a lake view on one side and snow-capped mountains on the other. Yet her expression was focused completely towards the camera.

  ‘How old was your mother when this photograph was taken?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, about thirty. My father took the picture. I think they had been invited to some sort of family party in Milan and they weren’t enjoying themselves very much.’

  Hal passed the photograph back. ‘She looks like a very determined lady. And very beautiful.’

  Mimi was silent for a moment as she replaced the picture at the end of the table.

  Oh, no, Hal thought. Got it wrong again. ‘Now I really do have to apologise for saying the wrong thing,’ he said in a low voice.

  Mimi looked directly at him. ‘Actually, just the opposite. She was very determined. And, yes, she could be quite formidable, especially where my dad and I were concerned. It’s just that—’ Mimi glanced back at the picture ‘—I think that you are the first person who has looked into that face and recognised that in her. She would have liked that. She always preferred straight talking. I suppose I get that from her.’

  ‘Well, you are a Fiorini. What did Poppy say when you told her about your family connection? It would be terrific on the adverts.’

  ‘Poppy doesn’t know,’ Mimi replied in a low voice. Then she squeezed her lips together and gave a small shrug. ‘It was my decision not to tell her. In fact, you are the first person I’ve told about my links to the Fiorini family. And I’ve only done that because I believe that I can trust you to keep what I am telling you a secret. I really do not want to use the Fiorini connection to publicise the fundraiser. Do you think that you can do that?’

  ‘If that is what you want, but I am still confused. It sounds like you have a wonderful heritage behind you which you could use to your advantage. Your collection could attract a lot more attention if they knew that Studio Designs had a Fiorini name attached to it. Why the secrecy?’

  Mimi straightened her back and lifted her chin. ‘I have been working all of my life to get as far away from the Fiorini family as possible and stand on my own two feet, Hal. I started at the bottom and made my own way in the world. This first collection of clothes has taken me ten years of hard work in difficult circumstances to put together. These are not just clothes—they are my future goals and dreams all combined into a few pieces of cloth. That probably doesn’t make sense, but that is how I feel about the work.’

  Hal sat back in his own chair and nodded. ‘Actually, it makes perfect sense.’ Then he leant both elbows on the table so that he could grin at Mimi as she ate her cake. ‘Don’t apologise for being passionate about what you do and what you want in your life. It’s only natural that you are going to get a little carried away trying to explain it.’

  ‘And what makes you get carried away, Hal?’ Mimi said, her voice low and intimate; she was very conscious that their hands were only inches apart from each other.

  ‘Way too many things. But let’s start with chocolate icing,’ he replied and leaning forward, he raised one finger and slowly wiped it along the edge of the cake plate, before popping his chocolate coated fingertip into his mouth.

  It only took a fraction of a second, and it was the most sensual thing Mimi had ever seen in her life.

  For a moment their eyes locked together.

  But chocolate was not what Hal was thinking about. Not at all.

  The need took his breath away and left him floundering, helpless.

  What if she wanted him as much as he wanted her at this minute? That could only spell trouble—for both of them.

  Hal broke the mood by looking away first.

  Then he made the fatal mistake of glancing back and fell dizzyingly into Mimi’s green, amber-flecked eyes. Eyes which called to him with a message that his heart could not ignore: I like you. A lot.

  Oh, no. Not Mimi. Not now.

  Doomed.

  Without a second’s hesitation, he leant forward just an inch and started to angle his head so that their noses would not clash; their eyes were still locked. His tongue moistened over his upper lip, and hers instinctively did the same. His gaze glanced from her mouth back to her eyes as his hand came up to cradle the back of her head, smoothing down the hair, caressing the warm skin between her neck and ear. Suddenly he wanted, needed, to crush his mouth against hers and taste her sweetness, life and passion.

  He could sense that her breathing speeded up in anticipation of his kiss, her eyes half-closed at the pleasure to come. She wanted him to kiss her.

  Only he forced himself to pull back in silence, his hand dropping back to the table. But his eyes never left Mimi’s face as she sat back, her face flushed, her chest rising and falling with the intensity of the moment. All of the passion and energy that he had only glimpsed before was there for him to see in her lovely face, making it even more difficult for him to fight against what his heart was telling him.

  After so many months of guarding his very words and feelings, this overwhelming desire and need to hold and comfort Mimi was going to have to be yet another challenge to overcome if he had any hope of getting through this next week.

  Hal sucked in a breath of the cool, cleansing evening air and said in as calm a voice as he could manage, ‘There is one question which only you can answer. And it will impact everything else we do in the next week.’

  Mimi took a breath and sat in silence while Hal leant forward and said in a low voice, ‘Don’t you think it’s time you showed me the actual clothes?’

  In reply Mimi’s eyes grew even wider. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, pressing her lips together.

  Hal chewed on the inside of his cheek,
suddenly anxious. Perhaps his desperate plan to change the subject was backfiring.

  ‘The clothes?’ she murmured. ‘You mean the collection for the show?’

  Hal nodded, desperate to refocus on something concrete and specific, anything that would distract him from the fact that he was still within touching distance of the first woman he had wanted to kiss, hold and come to know in a very long time. Which was probably why he rushed his words and spoke far more loudly than he had intended.

  ‘The catalogue for the show has to be with the printers by Tuesday morning at the latest. I was hoping to stage the photo shoot for those last two outfits some time tomorrow—if that is okay with you?’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ Mimi’s head came up and her eyebrows lifted. ‘That would be great, but what about the venue and the models?’

  Hal nodded and gestured with his hand palm-down. ‘I’ve just come back from the hotel and I’ll be seeing Lola and Fifi later tonight.’ Then his voice softened. ‘It would be a great help if I knew what I was going to photograph.’

  Mimi blinked several times and seemed to shuffle on her chair. She shot him a shy glance through her eyelashes and there was something in that one glance that shook him slightly. Hal had seen that look before in the faces of adventurers—and it was usually right before they jumped off a mountain they knew little about with a parachute on their back which they had not packed and checked themselves.

  She was nervous. Anxious. Possibly terrified. And that confused him even more.

  ‘You did say that the dresses were ready, didn’t you? Because I can move the photo shoot to Monday if you need more time.’

  ‘Oh, no, no,’ Mimi rushed with a shake of her head. ‘That’s not it. The dresses are finished and I’m thrilled with them. It’s just that…’ She sighed and swallowed several times, unable to continue.

  ‘Go on,’ Hal said, leaning forward in support. ‘It’s just that…?’

  ‘The students helped me with some of the day suits but I’ve worked all of the evening-wear on my own. Poppy saw the first pieces but I left these two dresses to the end. They were special and I wanted them to be so perfect. In fact, I want them to be on the front cover of the catalogue. That’s why I have spent every spare minute of the past three weeks reworking the designs until I can’t see any way I can improve them. These two gowns are probably the finest work I’ve ever done.’

  Hal smiled across at her. ‘Then I can’t wait to see them.’

  ‘That’s just it,’ she whispered. ‘You will be the first person to see the finished gowns, and I am nervous. Really nervous.’

  She lifted her head and looked out across the patio to the tops of the trees beyond her gate. ‘Before you say anything, I know that sounds totally ridiculous. I know that my Fiorini family won’t be there, but I just can’t seem to take them out of the picture. They made the finest evening-wear in the world, and here am I, trying to create something new under my own name when I have the weight of all of that heritage hanging over me.’

  ‘Is that why you don’t want to have the Fiorini name on the posters? In case the critics compare your work to the Fiorini couture clothes? Because it will come out eventually, you know.’

  Her brow tightened and she sought out his eyes, willing him to understand why this was so important to her without her having to say the words. ‘You are probably right,’ she replied in a low, hoarse voice. ‘I just want this chance to stand up on my own and show what I am capable of. That’s all. Just one chance.’

  Mimi’s gentle vulnerability hit Hal hard in the pit of his stomach, setting his skin tingling and heart racing. He had once believed that he knew about taking risks in his life, but this girl’s heart and soul were exposed for anyone to see if they cared to look. She probably had no idea how endearing and how special her simple wish to be recognised felt to him at that moment. It would be so easy to hurt her with meaningless words of reassurance or false hope.

  Suddenly he felt as though he was standing shoulder deep in dangerous waters and it had just started to rain.

  Feelings so fresh, sharp and new assailed his heart and begged to be expressed by taking Mimi in his arms and holding her until she understood that she could never be anything less than she was capable of. He had been guarding his heart even before Tom’s death, and now when he needed it to be strong and resilient it was letting him down, broken and shattered by one look into the eyes of a girl called Mimi Ryan.

  Seconds stretched to minutes as Mimi sought out an answer in his face. Time enough for his brain to kick in and regain possession of his body.

  ‘If you would prefer to talk me through the collection, or show me your sketches, I would be okay with that. I am happy to wait until the girls are wearing your dresses tomorrow, if that would make you more comfortable.’

  She slowly raised her head, and as she looked into his face and made eye contact he saw something so intense in her eyes that it took his breath away.

  Self-doubt, fear, deep loneliness and need were all there in that one single glance.

  ‘These clothes have taken ten years of my life,’ she whispered, her voice low and gentle and as warm as a summer breeze on his brow. ‘And now I have to show them to the world, for better or for worse.’

  She lifted her head and braved a weak smile. ‘I know that I am being totally pathetic.’

  He felt her breath come in short gasps as she searched his face, as though looking for some kind of answer or hidden truth or reassurance. ‘And what if it is for worse, Hal? What if it turns out that I am a self-delusional old bat and the designs stink? Then what? Where do I go from there?’

  Hal tipped up Mimi’s chin with the back of one finger so that he could smile into her startled eyes.

  ‘We all fear risking the thing we love best in the world, Mimi. It’s what makes us human. We take a risk every single time we step forward and show some of our true selves to the world, knowing that we could be rejected or humiliated.’

  Two of his fingers flicked stray strands of her tousled hair back over one ear as he spoke into the air above her head. ‘You are not alone. And you won’t be on the day. I’ll be there with Poppy. And here’s a promise: nobody will dare to criticise your clothes when I am on the scene. Right? Of course right!’

  Hal stood back a step and gave a small, casual shrug but his voice was steady, calm, clear and very, very challenging. ‘We are going to prove to the world that the woman who wears your clothes can do and go and be whoever she wants to be. That is what we are going to do in the show. That is the theme. Fabulous and elegant clothes meant for real women in the real world.’

  Then his mouth lifted into a grin and he winked. ‘And I know exactly how we are going to go about it.’

  Mimi blinked several times to clear the sleep out of her eyes with a wide yawn as she sipped her breakfast coffee and looked out over her neighbours’ gardens which were illuminated by the low, early-morning light.

  Reshaping the fall of a pair of elegant wide-leg trousers had taken her until well after midnight, but even when she had eventually collapsed into bed she had spent most of the night listening out for any sounds to indicate that Hal had moved into his new studio bedroom.

  Which might account for the extra-large bags under her eyes, and her inability to stop yawning for more than a few minutes at a time. She really did need to catch up with her sleep some time before the weekend, or she would be even more of an emotional wreck than she was now.

  Hal had taken her spare back-gate and patio-door keys so he was free to come and go as he wanted. But the very idea of having Hal sneaking in and out of the studio without her knowing about it was still more than a little disturbing.

  She was simply not used to having someone else sharing her home.

  Her family had never had guests stay over. Ever. The fact that there were only two bedrooms was one reason, but her parents had loved their privacy. It was one more thing she had inherited from them.

  The only person she had ever shared
a room with was her mother, and that was only after she had started sleepwalking. No girly sleepovers. And she had not been given any choice about living at home when she was at college because of the lack of funds and the fact that she could easily commute in each day by bus.

  Hal Langdon was her first houseguest. And she had no idea what to expect.

  Did he expect her to cook all of his meals, or entertain his friends and colleagues?

  She sighed and raised her arms above her head to try and release some of the tension in her shoulders. They would probably have to establish some sort of ground rules as soon as possible.

  That must be the reason she was so nervous—the domestic arrangements. That was all. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that macho, handsome, totally dreamworthy, fascinating, and amazingly kissable Hal Langdon would be staying in her house for the rest of the week, working in her studio. And standing next to her during her day, looking at her, talking to her. Pressing his body next to hers.

  Generally throwing her normal calm and orderly life into total chaos.

  Mimi sank down onto her breakfast-table chair, stretched out her arms and dropped her head onto them.

  This was all her fault.

  She was the one who had suggested Langdon Events rent out her studio space. There was no point in kidding herself she had done it for the rent, although she could certainly use the money. No. This was about fear. Ten years of fraught and exhausting work had gone into realising her dream, and the very idea that she would be excluded from the organisation gave her the shivers.

  Poppy Langdon had offered her a golden chalice and she had been only too willing to drink from it, not knowing the full consequences.

  The truth was more challenging than she would admit—to anyone. Deep-seated fears combined with long-term lack of sleep and poor confidence had driven her to take decisions which would have terrified her only a year earlier.

  Fear had driven her to hand control over her future to another person.

  Lifting her head a few inches, the first thing she saw through her half-open eyes was her mother’s photograph.