exhilaration fading, Audra wanted to sink into her chair and bury her head in her hands, but couldn’t. Not while Natasha was here. To admit such a problem—hell, to admit any weakness—wasn’t her way.
“You’d make a stronger impression on the suits” was all Audra could come up with. And it was true. While Audra might wow them, the impression Natasha would make would likely net more business.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. You go. Hell, you should take Drew,” Audra suggested, certain her brother would love the idea of a second honeymoon. He’d been so focused on saving their deceased father’s bar, then on building enough business to keep Aaron Walker’s legacy in the black, that he hardly ever took time off. Besides, not only had he been the one to nag Audra into going to design school, he’d even paid her way.
The least she could do was make sure big brother got a little international nooky with his wife. “He’d get a charge out of it. I’ll bet it’d make a better impression on those businessmen, too, you being solidly married and all that.”
“Oh, good point.” Natasha scooted around the desk and grabbed a pad and pen. Audra grinned when she started scratching out a list of things to do. Then Natasha paused and tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear and peered at Audra.
“Um, you’d have to handle the boutique on your own. I think I could get Aunt Sharon to help behind the counter once in a while, but mostly it’d fall on you. I’d have to be gone about two weeks, I think.”
Unspoken was the fact that the longest Audra had been responsible for Simply Sensual was a three-day weekend. That was the weekend she’d ended up hosting an impromptu bridal shower in the boutique, complete with male strippers. It probably wouldn’t have been too big a deal if Natasha’s aunt hadn’t chosen to stop in just as the bride-to-be and the stripper had been acting out an explicit sexual act on the checkout counter. They’d sold a hell of a lot of lingerie that evening, she remembered, suppressing a naughty grin.
Natasha’s doubts, so politely unsaid, were clear on her face. Audra knew her sister-in-law would be enlisting her aunt as a babysitter, as well as temporary clerk. Audra’s amusement fell away. No matter how she sugarcoated it, her sister-in-law expected her to drop the ball.
Jeez, how hard could it be to take charge of the boutique for a couple weeks? Audra ran through a checklist of what she knew about running the business. It was a dismally short list.
Damn.
Maybe Natasha was right to worry about the wisdom of leaving it all in her hands. But if there was one thing Audra refused to do, it was to appear needy. Nope, she’d suck up the insecurity and do a kick-ass job.
“When do you think you’ll go?”
Natasha tapped the pencil on the pad of paper, the dull thump keeping rhythm with Aerosmith belting out “Just Push Play” on the radio.
“I can call Aunt Sharon and get the money transferred today. The sooner we get the contracts and an idea of what kind of numbers we’ll be producing, the faster we can deliver product. What do you think about me leaving tomorrow? It’s like an all-day flight, but I can set up meetings starting on Wednesday.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let’s get this party rockin’.”
Natasha settled behind her desk with a cup of peppermint tea while Audra knocked back a Red Bull. For the next half hour they sketched out a plan of action, then went over the boutique responsibilities for the next week or so.
“I think that’s everything,” Natasha said as she tidied her notes into a stack. “And just in time to open the doors.”
She came around her desk and gave Audra an excited hug.
“We’re making it, Audra. Big-time. Drew is so proud of you.” She pulled back, obviously realizing all this sentimental stuff made Audra uncomfortable. “So we’re set. Are you sure you can handle everything alone?”
Audra considered her performance over the last week since graduating the textile and design academy.
She’d lost an order, told a customer the fishnets made her cellulite look like a bag full of marbles and almost got the delivery guy fired for flirting on company time.
Hardly management material.
But if she wanted to be trusted with something as major as bringing her vision to the spring line, she’d have to prove she could handle running the boutique.
Rarely felt nerves made their way through her stomach with a nasty flutter.
“I can handle it,” she vowed. She’d make sure of it. “As long as I don’t have to remember to bring a condom,” she muttered under her breath.
“Um, no, I doubt you’ll need to worry about that. At least, not for the boutique—unless you’re planning another party,” Natasha said with a wink and laugh.
Maybe she’d overreacted and Natasha wasn’t worried about leaving her in charge. Audra frowned.
Dammit, she should worry. Two years ago, heck, two months ago, she’d have worried. Now, though, Audra was, what? Such a goody-goody she could be trusted to be well-behaved? She sank into her chair with a morose sigh. All these yo-yoing emotions were exhausting. Just because she wasn’t a loser didn’t mean she was a goody-goody. There was an in-between there. Somewhere.
“But, you know it’s better to be safe than sorry. I’d strongly suggest keeping a few condoms on hand, since you never know what will come up.” Laughing at her own joke, Natasha headed out to the showroom to open the boutique for the day.
Audra made a face at her sister-in-law’s retreating back and mocked, “Ha ha.”
But inside, she groaned. How freaking pitiful was she? Even Natasha knew to be prepared.
After Natasha left, Audra contemplated the ugly tie pinned to the wall. The green was an insult to the eyes, and the crappy construction mocked her devotion to design details.
She should throw it away. It was stupid to hold on to some geek’s tie. A geek who’d run out on her, making her a loser in her friends’ eyes. Sure, they’d tossed her a second dare. But look how that had turned out.
But no, here she was, a sappy sentimental wuss who should have her Wicked Chick membership revoked. Courting silly thoughts about what a guy was like out of bed and wondering if he’d really call her for a date. Holding on to some butt-ugly memento as a reminder of the night she’d met the hottest guy to ever keep her awake without even being there.
Talk about an identity crisis.
A JUMBO COFFEE at his elbow, heavily laced with cream to disguise the bitter taste, Jesse’s fingers cruised with loving familiarity over the computer keyboard. He ignored the usual Tuesday morning noise in the cop shop as he patiently hacked through Dave Larson’s personal life.
Two steps forward, five steps back.
A dance Jesse loved. Larson was dirtier than a meth fiend on a street corner. The last two years he’d been up to his ass in debt, conning Peter to rob Paul. Now, suddenly, he was rolling in the green. Enough cash flying through his secondary
