a princess was what had intrigued him.
Casually, he put the card in his jacket pocket. Brenda noticed, though. He saw her lips tighten. Deciding he owed her no explanation, he said he had to be going and would drop by again later in the week.
Back at his office, he pulled out the business card and looked up the woman’s website. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t what he found.
The dresses and gowns featured on the website were exactly the kinds of clothes he would like to see his sister wear, exactly the kinds of clothes he would want a wife of his to wear. They were stunning—beautiful and elegant. The Spinelli woman hadn’t exaggerated. Her clothes were fit for a princess.
He wished there were more of them on the website instead of the half dozen featured. He also wondered about the designer herself. There was no picture, no bio. Just contact information.
He was about to do a search of the designer’s name when his secretary buzzed him to say Cornelia Hunt was on the line. He smiled and picked up the phone. “Hello, Cornelia. What a nice surprise.”
“Is it? I’ve been meaning to call you ever since the night we met. And today I had the perfect excuse. Harrison and I are having a small dinner party next month on the eighth, and I was hoping you could come.”
“The eighth...” Marcus checked his calendar, saw that the evening was free and said, “That sounds good.”
After she gave him the particulars, she said, “If you’ve got a few more minutes, there’s one other thing I wanted to ask you about.”
“I have as many minutes as you need.”
“I know you own an art gallery in Belltown.”
“Yes. Up and Coming.”
“And you sometimes feature artists and designers who work with unusual materials. I believe my daughter mentioned a jewelry designer whose work will be shown in October?”
“That’s right.”
“Have you ever considered showing the work of a fashion designer?”
Taken aback, Marcus wondered if Cornelia Hunt was a mind reader. It was almost as if she’d known he was thinking about Joanna Spinelli. “I haven’t given it a lot of thought,” he said, “but yes, I have considered it.”
“In that case, I wanted to recommend someone. This young woman is very talented. In fact, she designed the bridesmaids’ dresses for my wedding and she also designed the bridal gown my oldest daughter wore when she was recently married. Her name is Joanna Spinelli, and she’s currently working on finishing her first collection and I’d really like to be able to help her out a bit. So I thought if you were interested I could introduce you.”
“It’s odd you should mention Ms. Spinelli, because she visited the gallery today and left her card. In fact, when you called, I had just finished looking at her designs on her website.”
“And what did you think of her work?”
“I was favorably impressed.”
“Lovely,” Cornelia Hunt said.
“In fact,” he said, thinking aloud, “it’s possible we could combine her designs and my sister’s jewelry into one show.” That would give Vanessa a boost, too, plus make for a more interesting evening for possible buyers. “I forgot to mention that the jewelry designer we’re featuring this fall is my sister, Vanessa.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
The more Marcus thought about it, the more logical his idea seemed. Of course, everything would depend on whether Vanessa liked the Spinelli woman and her designs and vice versa and whether the clothing and jewelry would be complementary, but it was certainly worth exploring.
“So, would you like me to arrange a meeting?” Cornelia asked.
“It’s not really necessary. I have Ms. Spinelli’s card. I’ll give her a call.”
“That’s even better, because the truth is, I was hoping Joanna didn’t have to know that I’d talked to you about her. She’s...rather proud, you see.”
“I understand. I’m rather proud myself.”
Cornelia laughed softly. “There’s nothing wrong with a little pride. It makes one work harder, don’t you think?”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
* * *
Joanna didn’t call Georgie after the fiasco at Up and Coming. Normally she would have. But right now she was too bummed to talk to anyone, even Georgie. It was all very well to tell herself she wasn’t a quitter, but she really had exhausted every possibility she or Georgie could think of.
What if she called Phoebe Lancaster? Maybe Joanna could talk the reporter into doing a feature spread on her and her designs, kind of a follow-up to the story about Cornelia’s wedding.
But really, what good would that do? Sure, it would be nice to have a bit of publicity, but without a collection to show and somewhere to show it, what was the point?
No, Joanna might as well face it. If something good didn’t happen soon, Joanna might as well pack it in and forget about her dreams. Because right now, the way things were, she had about as much chance of becoming an Oscar-winning actress as she did a successful fashion designer.
* * *
“Corny, dearest, I thought you’d decided to stay out of the matchmaking business.”
Cornelia frowned. “Whatever do you mean? I’m just trying to give Joanna a leg up, that’s all.”
“And when you decided to call him, it never entered your mind that she and Marcus Barlow might make a nice couple?” Harry said disbelievingly.
“No, of course not.” And it honestly hadn’t. But now that Harry mentioned it, she couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be if that lovely young man should like Joanna and vice versa, because Joanna was a terrific person, just the sort of spunky, strong young woman Cornelia admired.
“Knowing how romantic you are, I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, believe it. When I called Marcus, the only thing on my mind—other than inviting him to dinner—was securing a show for Joanna at his gallery.” Cornelia had already decided she was going to help Joanna financially, too. She had it all planned. She would arrange for Joanna to have a “loan” through the Queen Anne Community Bank in Cornelia’s old neighborhood, where she had banked for years. The money would actually come directly out of Cornelia’s account, but Joanna wouldn’t have to know that. Just as she wouldn’t have to know about Cornelia’s call to Marcus.
“What are you smiling about?” Harry said, drawing her closer. The two of them were sitting in front of the fire and enjoying their predinner cocktail.
“Oh, I was just thinking how much like you I’m becoming.”
Harry grinned and nuzzled her neck. “Really?” he murmured. “In that
