Osland.”
“One moment please, Mr. Osland. I’ll see if she’s available.” The line clicked.
Jack listened to elevator music, tapping his fingers against the desktop as the minutes ticked by. He realized as he waited that he didn’t spend very much of his life on hold. Other people must. Although he had to remember that Zenia hadn’t been expecting his call.
The line clicked again. “Mr. Osland?” came the same voice, sounding a bit breathless and flustered this time.
“Yes?”
“Ms. Topaz will be right with you. I’m sorry, sir.”
“No problem,” said Jack.
Another click.
“Jack,” Zenia’s voice singsonged.
“Good morning, Zenia. How are things in New York?”
“Things are fabulous. The city’s lit up. We’ve been out skating already. Are you in town?”
“I’m in Manchester. I was wondering if you could help me out.”
“Absolutely, Jack. Whatever I can do.”
“Sierra Sanchez is sponsoring a designer in the Breakout Designer Contest at Matte Fashion.”
“Umm-hmm.”
He swiveled his chair to face the window. “She’s working here over the holidays, and I’d like to pick up a few things for her.”
“What kind of things.”
“That’s the problem. I’m not sure.”
“Okay …” Zenia’s voice was searching.
“Fabric, notions, shoes, I don’t know. I was hoping you’d have some ideas.”
“Do you have her sketches?”
“Not really.”
“Jack—”
“It was a last-minute thing. I think she might be building on something she has, or she might be coming up with something brand-new. Gramps met her—”
“Ahhh.”
“Oh. No.” Jack automatically shook his head. “It’s not like that.” Well it was kind of like that. “Listen, my jet is at your disposal, as is my credit card. Can you make a few calls to your suppliers? Just send one of everything.”
Zenia gave a husky chuckle. “Who is this woman?”
Jack paused. “My wife.”
“No way.”
“It was a whirlwind courtship.”
Zenia clucked her tongue. “Like grandfather, like—”
“No! Like I said, it’s nothing like that.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s all right. Can you help me out? I want to surprise her.”
Kristy could buy anything else she wanted later, but Jack couldn’t help thinking they’d do better with an expert like Zenia making the choices.
Zenia was silent for a minute. “You know she’s only got two weeks.”
“The jet is warming up on the tarmac.”
Zenia took a breath. “Okay. Tell the pilot to file a flight plan to Paris then Milan. I’ll send one of my assistants along to purchase what she’ll need.”
“You’re a goddess,” said Jack.
“Yes, I am. And I want to meet this woman when I’m at the show in London.”
“Actually, I can suggest something even better….”
WAKING UP alone in Jack’s bedroom was a mixed blessing. It saved her the embarrassment of facing him after last night. But now she had to spend the day dreading the moment she’d have to face him.
Did he think she was selfish? A tease? Did he think it was his turn next? Did he have expectations for tonight?
She paced the length of the workshop, giving her head a quick shake, forcing Jack from her thoughts.
She stopped herself at the drafting table, plunked down on the stool, opened the sketch pad and stared down at Irene’s notes. The Sierra Sanchez team had liked the necklines. They’d liked some of the fabrics, too.
The team’s biggest complaint had been the lack of sparkle and imagination. Kristy thought she understood. Unfortunately, now she wasn’t so sure.
She closed her eyes, trying to think about sparkle, imagination, maybe passion.
Oops. There was Jack again.
She could see him in the hot air balloon this time, skimming over the desert against the bright-blue sky. The balloon was round, billowing out with primary colors, bright yellow, red and blue. The lines were soft, sand rippling off in the distance, rocks polished by the foaming water, curves on the river sweeping through the valley.
In the distance, the cliffs were jagged, painted with muted stripes of brown and rust and gold. A waterfall crashed over them, hurling spray high into the air, white water bubbled at the bottom of the falls. She heard Jack’s rumbling voice, his laughter, his teasing suggestion they skinny-dip. She was hit with a new sense of desire, even while the foaming water turned into billowing crinoline and the stripes from the surrounding cliffs took the shape of a bodice.
Her eyes flew open. “Wow.”
She grabbed her sketchbook and began bold pencil strokes across a blank page.
A wild and exotic dress grew before her eyes—a tight, sleeveless bodice, with stripes arching into a reverse, rounded neckline. She’d use some kind of metallic in the fabric, jazzing up the earth tones. She nipped in the waist, then filled out the skirt, widening the stripes as the fabric fell to midthigh. Then she penciled in the billowing crinoline, at least six inches showing below the skirt.
Dark stockings and spike heels would give the sensuality she was looking for. It was sassy and sexy and completely different from anything she’d conceived before.
She had a sudden vision of herself wearing it, curled up on the blanket in front of the waterfall, Jack’s hot gaze traveling the length of her body.
She drew a deep, shuddering breath.
Then she came back to earth, blinking at the surprising creation. It didn’t look like the kind of thing Irene would like. The woman’s tastes had tended toward sleek and sophisticated.
But this dress was definitely passionate. And, for better or worse, Kristy was feeling passionate.
Maybe it was
