glossy lipstick, and she wore a hint of perfume.
Lark was sitting at her drawing table in her large corner office, working on a sketch for the new spring/summer collection. She had come into the office early to get a jump on the designs before her duties as COO took over her day. Lark was busy putting the finishing touches on a drawing when she heard someone knock. She looked up and smiled slightly.
“Good morning. You’re here early,” she said.
“I have some ideas in my head that I want to get down on paper. You’re here early, too. You must have had the same thought,” Dash said from the doorway.
Lark took in his physique as he stood there looking like a modern-day Adonis. He wore a baby-blue skinny-leg suit that fit his body to perfection with a crisp, stark white shirt and a pink tie. His look was professional, with an artsy edge. Lark had always prided herself on her style of dress, but now with Dash on her team, she would have to step up her game.
“Yes. I’ve already started sketching for the new line.”
“Let me see what you’re working on,” he said, walking over to her drawing table.
Dash was standing so close to Lark that she could smell his cologne. She took a soft whiff and inhaled base notes of bergamot, jasmine and vanilla.
He smells good enough to eat, she thought.
“I like the leg of the pant. It fits the ankle nicely. But what about dropping the crotch half an inch? Do you mind?” Dash asked, picking a pencil up from the drawing table.
“Go for it.” Lark moved back so he could have easier access to the sketchbook. As he drew, Lark stared at his strong hands and imagined his long, lean fingers caressing her skin.
Dash made the quick adjustment to the drawing. “What do you think?”
Lark peered down at what he had done and nodded her head. “Wow, moving the crotch down a bit makes a huge difference. Now the pants have more movement.”
“I’m going to like working here. We’re going to make an awesome team,” he said.
Lark looked up into his face and found herself mesmerized by his bright smile. A few seconds passed before she glanced away. Lark was determined to keep her mind on business and not get lost in the younger man’s charm.
“Did you bring the contract?” she asked.
Dash opened his messenger bag and took out a folder. “Here you go, signed and delivered.”
Lark took the folder and placed it on the drawing table. “Did you have an attorney look over the contract so you know what you’re signing up for?” Lark didn’t want a replay of what she had experienced with Sebastian.
“Yes, I did, and he pointed out the proprietary clause.”
“You do understand that everything you design for Randolph on the Runway is the property of the company?”
“Of course.”
“And you don’t have a problem with that?” she asked.
“No, not at all. My creativity is endless, and while I’m here, I plan to give you a hundred and ten percent.”
“Great. That’s what I want to hear. Now let me give you the dime tour and show you to your office.”
Employees had started to arrive and settle in as Lark and Dash made their way across the opposite end of the floor. The loft offices of Randolph on the Runway had been redesigned by Lark, who had worked closely with an architect to create an inviting environment. The former outdated space had been dark and cramped. The renovated offices were now hip and chic, with cream leather seating and sleek teak furniture. There was colorful abstract artwork on the exposed-brick walls. The interior offices, framed in floor-to-ceiling plate glass, were visible from the corridors, giving the entire space an open and airy feel.
“This is our kitchen. The refrigerator is stocked with water, sandwiches, salads and healthy snacks. There’s a single-cup coffee machine, which also makes tea. This drawer,” she said, pulling out a drawer to her left, “is filled with take-out menus from nearby restaurants.”
“That’s good to know. Sometimes when I’m working, I don’t want to interrupt my flow by going out to lunch.”
“I know what you mean. Sometimes when I’m on a roll I can work straight through lunch. Come on—let me show you the rest of the space.”
Lark led the way out of the small kitchen and continued down the hall. She stopped in front of a closed door, opened it, stepped inside and turned on the lights. “This is the showroom.”
“I love the exposed-brick walls and vaulted ceiling.”
“Thank you. I had the entire space redesigned. I wanted a loft-type atmosphere. This is where we keep our collections, meet with buyers and fit models for upcoming shows.”
Dash went over to a rack of clothing and browsed through the items. He pulled out a dress. “This gown reminds me of the dresses they wore in the forties. The rose taffeta material looks authentic. What happened to the seams?” he asked, holding the ripped gown.
“It’s a long story that I’d rather not retell. But I’m glad you like the dress. It’s one of my designs.” Lark was pleased that Dash had commented on the gown. She knew her instincts about the dress had been right all along and it felt good to be validated by the young designer.
“You’re quite talented.”
Lark felt herself blushing as if she were the new hire and he were her boss. “Thank you. Let me show you to your office before my morning meeting.” She turned off the lights and walked out with Dash following closely behind.
“This is your office,” Lark said, entering a well-appointed room. The space was almost identical to Lark’s, but smaller, with a teak desk, drawing table and sitting area. “The junior designers who’ll be working under your supervision sit out here,” she said, stepping back through the doorway and gesturing toward four cubicles.
As she was talking, a short, shapely brunette dressed in cargo pants and a T-shirt and wearing shades approached them. “Good morning, Ms. Randolph.”
“Hi, Jessica. Let me introduce you to Dash Migilio, our new lead designer. You’ll be reporting directly to him as stated in the email that Angelica sent out.”
Jessica lifted her sunglasses and stared at Dash. “I’m really going to love coming to work now,” she mumbled.
“Excuse me?” Lark asked.
“Oh, nothing.” Jessica moved closer to Dash and extended her hand. “So very nice to meet you, Dash. Or should I call you Mr. Migilio?” she said, batting her eyes.
“Nice to meet you, too, Jessica. Dash is fine.”
“You sure are,” Jessica said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Lark gave Jessica a disapproving look. “Jessica, if you’re going to have a problem working with the new lead designer, I’ll be happy to move you over to Aisha’s
