Threads Of Desire (Creative Hearts Book 3) (23 page)

She looked pensive for a moment. “Who says my dreams aren’t right on track? You aren’t the only mover and shaker. We all gotta do what we’ve got to do. Today I got the fabric I need for my samples at the price I want, so things are moving there. It’s all good.” She gave him a smile. “You don’t have to worry about me. I know I seem to be the sad ward of the Ross boys but trust me, I’m not.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “You know that’s not how I think of you.”

She pushed forward and ran her tongue across his lips, her eyes getting a mischievous glint. “Trust me, I know.”

Chapter 18

Gabby was beyond thrilled. The final samples with the new fabrics were everything she could have ever dreamed. The sample hands had gone above and beyond, and the stitching was excellent. It was as if they were just as excited to be working with finer fabrics as Gabby was. She could not believe how things were looking up. In just a few days’ time, she’d debut the first collection that she could be proud of. Sure, it was small and in a less than A-list showroom, but hey, it would be her chance to shine. Looking at the silk-lined, soft peplumed jacket as it came off the machine, Gabby had to stop herself from spinning in her leopard-print ballet flats.

Maria looked up at her with a slight smile. “These look really good, you should be proud.” From the stoic sample maker, it was high praise for sure.

“Thank you so much, Maria. You should be proud too. You did a wonderful job. You all did. It’s your work that’s making them look so great. I really can’t thank you enough. I can’t wait to show the line to the buyers. Between you and me, this is the first season in a while that I’m looking forward to getting out there on the floor with the salespeople and seeing the buyers’ reactions. I’m actually proud to be the designer this season and have my name attached. It’s like a dream.”

Maria snorted to herself, then looked down. Gabby looked at her smooth brown head, brows drawn.

“What’s with the snort?”

Maria looked up at her quickly and then back down at the box of sample pieces at her feet. She picked up the makings of a collar and proceeded to pin it together with quick expert fingers.

“Maria?” Gabby asked.

Maria wouldn’t look at her but reached back down and into the pocket of her apron. She slipped Gabby a label and looked away, shooing her with her hands. “Not here. Go to your office. But you didn’t get it from me,” she whispered. Gabby started to walk away, but Maria pulled her back by the hem of her skirt and spoke low under her breath. “Also, that new girl, Zara—the back staircase every day at three o’clock.” She made shifty eyes toward Dono’s office, sending Gabby’s stomach lurching. Shit.

Gabby nodded, clutching what Maria handed her and rushed off to her office. Once there she opened the small item in her palm of her hand and looked down. There it was. A slim white label with elegant black lettering: 
Z by Zenia
.

Her heart dropped to the floor and the room seemed to spin as Gabby grabbed the edge of her desk to steady herself. No, she told herself, she wouldn’t fall. Falling was for weaklings and she wasn’t weak. She may be down. She may be played but she wasn’t weak. Gabby took long deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. She looked back at the label just to prove to herself that what she knew was real was real. She nodded. Gabby then looked up and out in the hall to Zara’s desk. Empty, but nothing was new there. She looked up at the ancient wall clock that was better suited for a 1950s’ classroom than a present-day fashion house.

3:05.

Gabby pushed away from the desk and straightened herself to her full height as she walked down the hall, making her way to the back staircase. Along the way she glanced into Dono’s office. Empty. She nodded and kept walking. At the back access staircase, she took a breath and without hesitation, opened the door.

There he was, head thrown back in ecstasy, sparkly eyes closed, while the young Zara was on her knees working like a champ and earning her Z for Zenia for all she was worth—especially since she hadn’t designed one piece of the collection. They didn’t pause and for the briefest of moments Gabby felt a twinge of jealousy. But it was fleeting because she knew in her heart what she was feeling was the loss of her work—she only saw the label and didn’t care one bit about the dick being sucked in front of her.

She turned to walk away and it was then that Dono noticed her. “Gab!”

She turned back in time to see him pull out of Zara’s mouth. Embarrassment and anger suddenly flooded Gabby from head to toe—for herself and worse yet for the girl in the staircase on her knees. “Really, Donovan. Don’t stop on account of me. The least you can do is finish the job and reciprocate. It looks like the girl is finally earning her keep.”

He was turning red under his tan, as he attempted to tuck in and buckle up. “I’m sorry. But you said yourself that we were to keep things between us just business.”

She crossed her arms. “That I did. And since we were just business, I thought I could trust you, but it looked like you fucked me over even more than her.” She nodded toward Zara who was just now coming up on her feet.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw the label, Dono. Not that it matters, but I quit.” Gabby opened the stairwell door and headed toward Mr. Caberrera’s office.

Dono followed her with his shirt still half undone. “You can’t quit. Who’s going to finish up the line? How’s it going to get done in time for the buyers?”

All the sample hands and patternmakers were looking at them as they made quite a show, a little parade of three marching down the hall to Caberrera’s office. Gabby threw her hands up. “That’s not my problem anymore. That’s yours and the woman’s whose initial is on the label.”

With that she stormed into Caberrera’s office and he looked up at her with Dono’s sparkling eyes set in a more-weathered face. She slammed the label on the desk. “I quit.”

His eyes went wide, and he did a good job on putting on a look of surprise. “What? But why?”

“You dare ask me why in the face of this?” She pointed at the label.

Caberrera turned all lobster. He shook his head. “Gabby, please, you have to understand. We have our buyers and they expect a certain image to represent Zenia. And sadly, you are not it. I’m sorry, but Margo and I agree.”

Fucking Margo. The woman had had it out for her ever since she’d walked in the door. Gabby wanted to die. She’d never been more humiliated in her life. Well, once, but she’d sworn she’d never let it happen again. That she’d never give away that much power.

Fighting to keep her voice even she looked Caberrera in the eye. “I find it really convenient that now, after I’ve done all the ground work and set you up with a line to finally bring this company out of the dark ages, I’m suddenly not the right image. Well, good luck maintaining what I started with Little Miss Z over here.”

Mr. Caberrera’s eyes shifted from her to Zara and his coloring went from lobster to purple. Suddenly, through her anger Gabby actually felt a hint of pity for the man. She could see the fate of the old company and thought he did too. They wouldn’t make it.

He muttered something about the line and reputations and how she had to give notice, but she tuned it all out. She was done. Gabby was proud of herself when she calmly looked Caberrera in the face and told him that if he gave her anything less than a glowing recommendation, she’d sue him and his company for harassment—and that some of his son’s texts, archived on her phone, were just the ammunition she’d need for the beginning of that lawsuit. The man was easy. He clammed up and told her that her final check would be on the way along with a sizeable severance. She looked at him one last time and turned on her ballet flats. It was a small victory in the face of losing all her work, but at least it got her out the door.

Gabby left saddled with, a small box of her belongings, her shopping bags, and stood on the corner of Broadway and 41st Street for a full ten minutes. It was crazy. She’d started the day so full of promise and excitement over the debut of her new line and now here she was ending it on a busy Garment District street corner, sad, alone, jobless, and pushing thirty. She looked down at her box and her wasted years at Zenia seemed to look back at her mockingly. She closed her eyes for a moment, then, with a firm resolve, dumped it all in the nearest trash.

Chapter 19

Optimism is for assholes, and trust is for
 stupid 
assholes.
 Gabby placed an underline under the statement she’d just written on the orange Post-It and held it out to Nick before sticking it to the fridge door.

She was in a funk. Okay, so a funk was an understatement. She was flat-out pissed and wanted to tell the world to fuck off and Nick didn’t know what to do about it. He had to admit the Post-It did make sense though.

His first instinct when he’d heard what had happened with her job was to go and kick some orange ass down at that so-called fashion house where she worked. But he knew Gabby would be pissed if he did, though he’d sure as hell feel a ton better. Besides, he still wanted a piece of that jerk after the restaurant. The thought of where his hand went after they’d sat down still burned him up.

It would be a perfect stress outlet since this week the Dow had gone bonkers. Some whack job out in the middle of nowhere, who controlled a major portion of the world’s oil reserves, suddenly decided this would be a good time to change his stance on free trading after thirty years. People were panicking, and Nick hated that there was now turmoil both at work and at home.

Normally it wouldn’t bother him so much. He remembered back in the not-so-distant past when he’d thrived on controversy, on being the problem solver, but now it felt like the stakes were higher. And with Gabby, it felt like a problem he just couldn’t solve. It was driving him nuts seeing her suffer like this. He knew that she had sent out so many resumes, but in the business it was all buzz and word of mouth, and sadly Gabby had neither.

But Nick did see a bit of a light at the end of the tunnel for Gabby and a real chance at creating some buzz—though he was scared that in the end he’d be the one getting stung once she found out what he’d done. During his meeting with Mrs. Sutton, he’d seen an opening and taken it, bringing up Gabby’s idea about size expansion, and the old bird had been intrigued. When Nick told her the idea had come from a friend of his she’d expressed a desire to meet Gabby, but of course, what was supposed to be great news, Nick was now hesitant to share. Knowing Gabby, with all her pride, she’d take it the wrong way. Think it was some kind of handout or pity gesture.

It was early on Saturday, and Nick was nuzzling at her neck. He was so glad they’d kept their arrangement and come to a truce, calling the apartment neutral ground after the night of the fight. They hadn’t brought up past or present lovers again. Not that he had any at present and he didn’t think she did either, and they still met together in the evenings, sharing dinner and making love.

He didn’t know what he’d do when Steve returned and didn’t want to think of it, since he’d long ago given up his apartment hunt, happy to stay in bliss in her arms.

Gabby was starting to doze off, and Nick took a deep breath for encouragement before starting to speak. “Hey, I’ve got some good news for you.”

“Hmm.”

She turned over, shimmying her curvy backside so that it fit to his like a perfect, soft puzzle piece against his body. He loved it when she was like this. Soft and relaxed. Maybe he should just tell her later.

“What is it, Nick?” Her voice pulled on a sharp edge.

“You know the Sutton account.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it looks like they’re not dead just yet. As a matter of fact Mrs. Sutton wants to meet with you.”

Gabby jumped up and turned around to look at him, pulling up the sheet. “Why in the world would she want to meet with me?”

He flashed her a smile, hoping for the best. “Because I talked with her about cutting some divisions and expanding on some others. I also talked about her quality fabrics and developing more of that, and the fact that she doesn’t have a plus-size division and how that could be a missed opportunity.”

Gabby’s eyes narrowed.

“So you told her all my ideas?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t like that.”

“And you didn’t run it by me first?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think I had to. And what’s the problem? She loved them and she wants to meet with you. This could be a great opportunity for you. She could possibly hire you. You need a job and I’m sure she can use a talented designer like you. What wrong with that?”

Gabby held up her hand. “Stop.” She grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around her body, leaving him cold. “The problem is you told my ideas without my permission. She could just take it to whoever she’s got working there now and run with it, and poof, they’re expanding into a full size range, and I would be out because you ran your mouth. And really, why would they hire someone like me anyway? It’s not like I fit the All-American, Ivy League image of the Sutton brand, so what’s the use?”

“Gabby, I was just trying to help. You need a job, and they need you. I thought it would be the perfect fit.”

But she just shook her head, refusing to take in his words. It was so incredibly frustrating. Like she was the only one who could say anything that would actually have meaning. Nick had had it. “Shit, Gabby, you can’t be the only one able to show love in this relationship.”