by Jo Leigh
She’d admitted it herself. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. About them. She might be scared, but she wasn’t ready to let go yet. For Chrissakes, she’d taken him home to meet her friends only yesterday. Maybe letting him get that close had set her off. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t giving up. It would be a bitch waiting for the damn window launch to be over with, but it would be worth it. She was worth it.
He turned to the Christmas tree on his coffee table and felt better than he had all afternoon.
“Oh, Aubrey, that’s it!” Yvonne turned from the sketches on the whiteboard. Her private smile, the one that was asymmetrical and a little goofy, was on full display. “The press will eat it up.”
“If it all comes together. Do you think we can get enough people to participate?”
Her boss waved her concern away. “Of course. In fact, we’ll have two complete showings. The first at ten, then again just before midnight. We’ll have everyone change clothes at least once. That will allow us to show off more of our exclusive lingerie and provide more photo and video opportunities. But there’s a lot to be done in a very short time.”
Didn’t Aubrey know it. “I’ll need sizes, so as soon as we have people on board—”
“Yes, yes, I’ll get them to you immediately. And I’ll take care of the press release. I have an interview with Time Out tomorrow about the fundraiser, which will tie in beautifully. You just take care of the physical aspects, yes?”
“I’ve got it covered.”
Yvonne perched lightly on Aubrey’s desk. “Now, before we move on, would you like to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Pardon?”
“Makeup and eyedrops only cover so much, ma bichette.”
Aubrey tried to make a joke but Yvonne had been so trusting throughout this process, it didn’t seem fair. “I let myself get too close to someone, when I knew all along it wasn’t going to go anywhere. I’m just sorry I didn’t end it sooner. I might have had this idea days ago.”
“I don’t believe creativity works like that. Especially when there’s so much pressure.”
Aubrey’s expression must have given away her surprise because Yvonne chuckled as she shook her head.
“I was aware of the difficulties. If you hadn’t come up with this concept by tonight, I was going to insist we run with the slumber party. But this is so much better. It will highlight much more than just our inventory. The rest of New York will be sleeping, and Le Muse will be the talk of the town. It’s altogether genius.”
Aubrey winced at the word, never wanting to hear it again. She was lucky, that was all. “If it all works, that is.”
“We’ll make it work. You’ll make it work. The difficult part is already done. The rest is details and timing.”
“I’m sorry I made you worry.”
“I hope the next time will go more smoothly.”
“Next time?”
“Yes, next time. Tell me, this man. He hurt you?”
“No. I hurt him. But it was inevitable. He’s a policeman. A detective with big career plans.”
“And…?”
“And I think I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Aubrey murmured, feeling a new threat of tears.
Yvonne smiled and rose. “Well, I have many phone calls to make. Most likely, you won’t have time to think about anything else until the big event, yes?”
“Right.” Aubrey walked her to the stockroom door. “Thank you so much. For believing in me.”
“You have a gift. I saw that from the beginning. Now, go. Work.”
Aubrey should have been over the moon. Somehow, she’d done it again. At least, on paper. Yvonne’s enthusiasm was like receiving a Get Out of Hell Free card, only this time, she’d brought a piece of hell with her.
Her purse was in the bottom drawer of her desk, and she reached inside the front inside flap. How many times had she looked at Liam’s trading card? She’d memorized all his answers. How he’d wanted to date, not marry. He’d taken her to the Parlor Steakhouse, although thankfully, the Mets hadn’t been brought into the picture. But his Bottom Line had: “To find a woman who shares my goals and values.”
Turning the card over, it seemed hard to believe that as she’d gotten to know him, he’d become better looking. She should have realized much sooner that she was in trouble. Probably should have called the deal off after the first night.
But that was her all over. Diving straight into the deep end without regard for what lay down below. She’d cajoled her way into Pratt to get her degree, only to bolt when it came time to prove herself. Every time she got involved with a man her first order of business was to figure out an escape plan.
The window designs had, up until now, felt more like a game than a job. Despite so much riding on the outcome.
And then there was Liam, who’d had a whole long-term life plan worked out before he got into college. He’d hit every goal, despite the jealousy of his fellow officers. She doubted he’d ever had a plan B, whereas she always kept plans B through Z in the back of her mind.
It wasn’t even their different goals that made her the wrong woman for Liam. It was his values. The way he regarded himself as capable, as willing to do whatever it took. He wanted to make a difference in the world, make things better.
She wanted the employee discount on underpants.
Instead of throwing the card away, she found an envelope and decided to mail it back to him. The note was brief and achingly honest: “You were the best muse. The best man. Thank you for everything.”
Three tears fell on the note, right on the word muse. She’d been so thrilled when fate had tossed him into her arms. She should have known it would end in epic sorrow.
Chapter Twelve
The community room at the precinct had been taken over by the holiday party, crowded now with detectives, support personnel, spouses and children. Oliver Gardiner from narcotics was playing Santa and handing out gifts to the young ones.
Liam stared at the festive crowd and wondered why he’d bothered to come. He missed Aubrey, even though he knew she could never have been there with him tonight. With only a few hours until show time, he imagined she was running around frantically taking care of last-minute details.
“So, where’s your girl?” Detective Lieutenant Posner asked.
“Working.” It wasn’t a lie, and he sure wasn’t going to discuss his love life with his fellow detectives, especially not his boss. At least he could think about Aubrey calmly now that he had a plan.
Ernie Rogers nearly shoved Liam out of his way while trying to grab rugelach off a platter. “How’d she get the short straw?”
“Tonight’s a big deal for her. She works at Le Muse. It’s a lingerie store on Broadway and they’re having a big press event featuring Aubrey’s window design.”
“I heard something about that,” Rogers said. “Isn’t it part of some big fundraiser?”
Liam nodded. “Her boss is on the board of directors of a foundation that combats the international sex trade.” Sadly, he hadn’t learned this from Aubrey but from watching the news while sitting in a bar missing her.
“Yeah, I saw something about that, too,” Posner said. “I’ve been past that store. The window with the flashing women, right?”
“That was Aubrey’s design.” Liam smiled, and he found it didn’t even hurt. No reason not to brag. No matter what happened between them, he was proud of her.
He didn’t know which idea she’d chosen, probably something he’d never seen, but he had no doubt it would be a knockout. He’d gone past the store a few times. Just to check on her progress. Two days ago a curtain had been lowered, hiding most of the window. In front of the curtain were three mannequins wearing sexy nightwear, writing their Christmas lists. Above them, in thought bubbles, were video loops from different lingerie shows. Famous models with their long legs and tilted backs strutting down catwalks, showing off the merchandise.
Rogers made a crack about Posner’s husband buying h
er Christmas present at Le Muse, proving beyond a doubt that Rogers needed to cut back on the eggnog. They were interrupted by the desk sergeant and Liam drifted away, checking out the crowd and glancing at his watch. Tonight was okay as far as work parties went, actually better than he’d expected considering he’d only come for the distraction. No sense sitting around his apartment, staring at the clock while he waited for the magic hour. He might’ve been too tempted to jump the gun and ruin everything.
His plan to win her back wouldn’t begin until tomorrow evening, after she’d had time to recuperate. But there was no way he wasn’t going to witness her triumph. All he had to do was blend into the crowd, and she’d never know.
Aubrey was afraid she wouldn’t last the night. While the gallons of coffee she’d been drinking were keeping her awake after twenty straight hours without sleep, the bathroom had become her second home. Not convenient when she didn’t want to take her eyes off the crew.
At least the scaffolding was securely in place, the fake snow at the ready and all the mannequins made up, if not completely dressed. The set was almost perfect, although two key pieces were still in trucks somewhere in the city.
Her most immediate worry was a seemingly simple electrical problem. The union dudes were working on it, but the whole tableau would fall apart if the machines couldn’t be plugged in. Thank God the store had been closed since ten last night, and wouldn’t open until after the unveiling.
She stepped out of the storeroom to check the progress on the main floor. A sizable party tent had taken over the left side of the store, and late merchandise arrivals from several designers were still being set up on the right side racks. Even though there were only three mannequin displays on the floor they still could have used more sale space. The unlucky party planners would have to tear down the tent tonight so the employees could put the store back together for the massive sale in the morning. Talk about overtime.
Yvonne’s assistant, the same woman who’d put together Yvonne’s charity cocktail party, stuck to her like glue, her Bluetooth constantly flashing. Her mile-long checklist seemed like another appendage.
Everything had come down to details and manpower. In addition to the regular Le Muse employees, many extra hands had been hired, including Sanjula and Caro, who were grateful for the extra money.
The only key thing missing, aside from a working plug by the window, was Liam.
“You’ve got that look on your face again,” Sanjula said, surprising Aubrey with a jolt.
“What look?’
“The ‘I miss Liam’ look.”
“I’m too exhausted to miss anyone. What you’re seeing is sleep deprivation and terror.”
“Nope. I’ve seen those before. This one’s different. You should call him. He was your muse, after all. He played a big part in this craziness.”
“Yeah, the part where it almost fell apart.”
“But it didn’t.” Sanjula’s voice went up an octave. “In fact, look how much you’ve accomplished in just a single week. The last one took longer and wasn’t this organized.”
Aubrey sighed as she looked at the ordered chaos around her. Despite her heartache, this mad idea of hers was truly taking shape. “Yeah, it has been a hell of a week. But I’ve had help every step of the way. And a healthy dose of luck.”
“No. Luck is that Liam still wants you, even after you broke his heart over the phone. This,” she said as she waved her hand at the transformation of the store, “was your hard work and brilliance.”
“Oh, God, Sanjula, I appreciate you so much, but I can’t talk about it now. Okay? If you had any idea what’s still left to be done…”
“Fine.” Her friend sighed. “I’d offer to get you coffee, but I think you might end up with caffeine poisoning. How about some water?”
“Yes, because I need to pee more often.”
“Oh, so you want to faint on camera?”
“Water,” Aubrey said. “Yum.”
The first of their very special guests caught Aubrey’s attention. They were coming through the back entrance so as not to spoil anything. Private security had taken control of the alley, checking names. Yvonne was there to meet and greet and make sure everyone understood the instructions.
More celebrities followed close behind. As the tent grew more crowded, the clueless extra help began to realize what was happening. Their excitement became a living thing, a buzz that filled the room and sent adrenaline screaming through Aubrey’s body. Screw the electricians, she could probably power the whole event by herself.
A fleeting thought of Liam anchored her to the spot, and for a moment, all she could think about was the fact that he’d probably received the trading card by now. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. No messages. Which was as it should be. Imagine how distracted she’d be if she thought there was still a glimmer of hope for them? Yep, this was better. Now, all she had to do was stop thinking about him.
The night had flown by quickly. Not only had Liam felt at ease, he’d actually enjoyed himself. But now he was getting anxious. In twenty minutes it would be time to head over to Le Muse. He just wished he knew for certain how he was going to play it. A week ago the plan had been set in stone. He’d wait until tomorrow to approach Aubrey. Now…his patience was slipping. Of course he’d wait until after the window was unveiled, but after that…
“How you doing, Ridiculous?”
The slap of a big hand on his back made him spill some of his soda. It was just Aaron, who worked white-collar crimes. They’d gone to the academy together. “I’m good. You still working on that old jalopy of yours?”
Aaron’s face lit up at the topic, and he started talking about some special carburetor. All Liam could think of was how different this conversation would have been before Aubrey. He’d have gotten pissed immediately, told Aaron to fuck off and generally ruined everyone’s mood, especially his own.
The nickname had lost all its power. Okay, not all, but most of it. Liam had realized yesterday that his lack of reaction had helped diffuse things. He’d even managed to speak to Tony Ricci, although the man was still an asshole.
A couple of detectives from his shift wandered over, probably because they were talking about cars. Liam really was part of the group now, even though they’d probably never let go of that damn meme.
“Well, I’m out of here,” he said as soon as there was a break in the conversation.
“So early?” Aaron said. “I heard the captain’s stopping by.”
“He’ll have to try and get by without me.” Liam headed for his coat, but halfway there, he stopped and turned to his friends. “I’m going to the lingerie store to check out Aubrey’s window,” he said. “Because the one thing she’s missing is a ridiculously good-looking cop.”
At a quarter to ten, the police had been called out for crowd control. The gathering of press and the public had grown so large the security team Yvonne had hired was overwhelmed.
Aubrey thought she might be sick. It didn’t help that she hadn’t eaten since…she had no idea when she’d last eaten. Or when she hadn’t had a racing heart and an incredibly deep desire to run as fast as she could in any direction.
Sanjula and Caro hovered, but it wasn’t helping. The curtain would come down in minutes. At least the electricity had been fixed. And almost all of the guests had turned up, which was something of a miracle. It seemed as if everything was going according to plan, which, frankly, was the most terrifying part.
All she could think about were the online comments, the tweets, the dislikes. It didn’t matter what the subject, the majority of online comments were horrible. Given the opportunity to be anonymous, people tended to unleash the kind of meanness they rarely displayed face-to-face. She always tried to skip the nasty comments, particularly after a review of something she loved.
But this was her work, and, by extension, herself, and she knew she’d end up reading them. God, knowing her, she’d probably end up doing a Google search. Masochi
st.
If Liam were there, she could lean on him, snuggle into his arms. And when it was over, he would have distracted her, thrown away the papers, disabled the internet connection.
But he wasn’t there. The window was about to become a stage, and she would win or fail in the next three…two…one.
The curtain just inside the window collapsed as if the weight had been too much. On cue, she, along with several employees of the store, frantically pantomimed panicking at the sight of the press. They moved props into place as they set the scene of a party, a very sexy party with mannequins dressed in Le Muse exclusive lingerie and intimate wear. Corsets and bodysuits and tiny bikinis. The men in their well-padded boxer briefs and thongs. Cocktails in hand, every one of the dozen plastic people seemed to be in midsentence. The decor was that of a high-end penthouse, the Christmas tree modern and sleek, all deep red ornaments and silver garlands. Music spilled out onto the street, modern versions of traditional carols, and then…
Aubrey couldn’t help looking up to where Freddy, who’d volunteered for the role of clumsy oaf, tripped on the scaffolding, sending a huge amount of fake snow falling and swirling in the small space in front of the Plexiglass, driven by several well-placed wind machines, until everything inside the window was obscured.
Then it got crazy.
Despite their best efforts, some snow got loose around the madly rushing crew. Every live person in the scene grabbed at least one mannequin and rushed off stage right. From the left, models—very, very famous models—rushed in, each wearing lingerie that matched a mannequin and scurrying to take their exact positions.
Aubrey stood on the far left, guiding the models, making sure no one tripped or spilled or did some other nightmarish thing. She knew she was visible to some of the crowd outside, and she didn’t want to spoil the piece, but Karmen had stepped on her kimono, and Freja dropped her martini. Aubrey would never get out in time because they only had a limited amount of snow and it was starting to settle.
