All That Sparkles: The Texan Quartet (11 page)

“I knew it was too good to be true. Can’t blame a guy for trying though.” He spun her around, making her laugh. “So in which section of Dionysus does your guy work?”

“He’s a lawyer – Chris Barker.”

“I know Chris. He works hard.” David glanced down at her. “So if you’re not single, do you have any single friends?”

She grinned. He was a nice guy, and if she’d met him a few weeks earlier she would have gone on a date. “You know, I believe Michelle is still single.” She gestured toward where Michelle and her father were talking. “Why don’t I introduce you?”

“Sounds good to me.”

The song ended and they left the dance floor together. After making the introductions, she excused herself, ignoring her father’s protestations to stay, and went to find Christian.

It was the best show of defiance she could have here.

*

It was close to three in the morning before the event started to wind down. Imogen was struggling to stay focused, struggling to keep her posture straight and her smile bright and dying to pry her feet out of the heels she was wearing.

She’d managed to catch up with a number of designers who she considered friends as well as those people who had worked at Tour de Force over the years. Her father always insisted on running a paid intern program and chose the candidates based not only on their talent but also their financial situations. He always tried to give those people who were doing it tough a chance. It was one thing Imogen admired about him. Even when there wasn’t a permanent job available at Tour de Force, her father helped them find work either through recommendations or by helping them set up their own business.

She wished he’d do the same for her.

Christian appeared next to her with a glass of water. “I thought you could do with this.”

She took it gratefully and sipped. She’d stopped drinking wine after dinner and was parched from all the talking and smiling. It had to be time for her to be allowed to leave.

Christian had dark circles under his eyes, which he was obviously struggling to keep open. Guilt punched her in the gut. “You must be exhausted,” she said. He’d had a long working week, was still recovering from jet lag and here she was dragging him out to an event into the early hours of the morning. She was so inconsiderate.

But he had been fantastic during the night. He’d chatted to people, asked intelligent questions and been genuinely interested in the answers. At no stage had she felt he was bored.

“I can keep going as long as you can,” he said and winked.

It surprised a laugh out of her and she took his hand. “I definitely think it’s time to go. Let me say goodbye to Papa.”

Scanning the ballroom Imogen found her father chatting to Simon. Together they walked over and nerves built in her stomach. She hated this. Hated the hesitation she felt now talking to her father, hated not knowing what his response was going to be, hated feeling she had something to apologize for.

“Imogen, have you said hello to Simon yet?” her father asked. He completely ignored Christian.

“Yes, Simon and I caught up earlier. I think I’ve spoken to almost everyone here.” She laughed lightly and added, “We’re going to leave now.”

Her father frowned. “But the night is still young. There are bound to be people who want to speak with you.”

Imogen reminded herself to stay strong. She was tired and Christian even more so. “If there are, they know where I work.” She kept her tone upbeat. “I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“What about our Sunday brunch?”

She didn’t have the energy to sit across from him and pretend everything was going to be all right, but they always did Sunday brunch. How could she avoid it?

“I’m afraid I’ve stolen her away on Sunday,” Christian spoke up. “My apologies, sir.”

Imogen turned to him so her father wouldn’t see the surprise on her face. “Yes, I forgot to tell you, Papa. I’m sorry.”

“Ah, young love makes us all forget,” Simon said before Remy could say a word. Imogen smiled at him.

Her father frowned and pursed his lips together. “Monday it is.”

Imogen kissed him on the cheek and then said goodbye to Simon, and together she and Christian left the ballroom.

When they got outside she turned to him. “You didn’t need to lie for me,” she said.

“Who said I was lying? I’m sure I can come up with something to keep us amused on Sunday.” He grinned at her and blood rushed to Imogen’s cheeks.

She turned to the valet and gave him her ticket in order to give herself time to recover.

It didn’t take long for her car to arrive and she gratefully slid into the driver’s seat. “Thank you for coming tonight,” she said to Christian.

“I enjoyed myself.”

She glanced at him to check if he was kidding but he seemed sincere. She appreciated his engagement with her world, because she’d had dates at other events who had been so obviously bored and derisive of the fashion industry that she couldn’t wait to get rid of them. Those evenings were usually followed by her begging Piper not to set her up any more.

Imogen pulled up in front of Christian’s apartment building.

Her hands were clammy on the steering wheel and she hoped he didn’t notice. Would he ask her up? Would she accept? She didn’t quite know what she wanted at the moment and was too tired to really think clearly.

He leaned over and kissed her. It was pleasant but simple. “What time do you want me to pick you up in the morning?”

Imogen blinked. She’d forgotten about the house hunting. “I’ll pick you up about one.”

Christian shook his head. “I’m not riding in this thing if I can help it.” He laughed. “My car is big enough to fit two. I’ll pick you up.”

Her car was rather small. “All right.”

He got out of the car, waved and she waited until he was safely inside his apartment building before she drove off.

She ignored the disappointment that he hadn’t asked her to stay.

*

Imogen woke earlier than she’d expected to the next morning. She made herself coffee and sat at her kitchen table, thinking about the night and about Christian. There was one thing he’d said to her which had stuck with her all night. She was able to do more than just attend charity events to help people.

She wandered upstairs to her walk-in robe and gazed at the mass of clothes in there. She loved clothes – loved making them, loved buying them – but there were some things in there that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. There were others who could benefit from them more than her and it was as good a place to start as any.

Putting down her coffee mug, she got to work.

*

When Christian buzzed the guesthouse a couple of hours later, Imogen was surrounded by bags of clothes. She opened the gates remotely and hoped they would all fit in his car.

Her wardrobe was significantly clearer, though there was still plenty in there. Imogen held up a blue skirt suit that was the final piece she was deliberating about. She loved the style, loved the cut, but she had never worn it. It had been slightly too big for her when she’d bought it and she’d never got around to altering it. When Christian knocked on her door, she put it into the last bag and hurried downstairs to let him in. He looked slightly tired when she opened the door and she felt a twinge of guilt. He’d had a long week and now he was going to spend the afternoon house hunting with her.

Kissing him quickly she said, “You look tired. You don’t have to come with me today.”

He smiled at her and pulled her back toward him to kiss her slowly.

Imogen’s body warmed all the way down to her toes and tingled all the way back up.

“I’m already feeling rejuvenated,” Christian said as he stepped back.

After a kiss like that she wasn’t going to argue. Feeling a little flustered she glanced over his shoulder and noticed his car definitely had a bigger trunk than hers.

“Do you mind if we stop off at the charity thrift shop on our way out?” she asked. “I’ve been going through my wardrobe this morning.”

“Sure. Where are the bags?”

Imogen led him upstairs to her bedroom and laughed at his exclamation when he saw the ten trash bags full of clothes.

“You sure have been busy.”

It took a few trips until they managed to fit all the bags into his car—some on the back seat—and then drove to a thrift shop she’d found whose proceeds helped women in need.

As they were carrying the bags inside, a tall woman with long, lank brown hair came outside holding the hand of a crying boy about five years old.

“I want the cowboy,” the boy cried.

The woman looked stressed. “I know, Toby-boy, but I can’t afford it,” she said.

“Elle?” Christian asked, stopping the woman.

The woman looked at Christian in surprise and then seemed to deflate even further. “Hi, Chris.”

“How’s the business going? Have you been to the bank yet?” he asked.

She shook her head. “My meeting is on Monday and I was looking for something to wear, but Toby’s tired.”

“Can we help?” Imogen asked impulsively. “I could help you find something to wear and Chris could keep Toby amused.”

The woman glanced at her and Chris quickly made the introductions. “Elle is one of my clients.”

She must have been one of his pro bono clients.

“I don’t want to interrupt your day,” Elle said.

“Nonsense. We’d love to help,” Imogen said, hoping she wasn’t going to offend the woman with what she was about to do. She took out her purse and handed Toby a twenty-dollar bill. “I’m looking for a small vase to put flowers in. Do you think you could find me one while I’m helping your mom? You can keep whatever change there is and buy a toy.” She didn’t think a vase would cost more than five dollars. “Maybe Christian can help you look.” Toby wiped his eyes and glanced up at his mother. She looked horrified.

“No, I couldn’t.”

Imogen touched Elle’s arm. “Please?”

The woman closed her eyes and then opened them, more determination in them than before. “Thank you.” She bent down to her son. “You’re so good at finding things. Why don’t you go with Chris and maybe you’ll have enough left over for the cowboy.”

He nodded, face serious, and then took hold of Chris’s hand. Chris pointed to the homewares section.

Imogen and Elle watched them go.

“What do you need to find?” Imogen asked her.

Elle turned and let out a sigh. “A business suit. I have a meeting next week to see if I can get a loan to start my business.”

“What kind?”

“A bookshop café.”

“Sounds wonderful. Let me know when it opens; I’d love to come.” Imogen handed her a business card and then examined the woman, trying to think what would suit her. “You know, I think I have the perfect thing for you.” She hurried over to Chris’s car and dug through the bags still in the trunk before finding the blue suit. She pulled it out and held it up against Elle.

Elle took the jacket and slipped it on. “It’s gorgeous.”

Imogen sighed in satisfaction. It fit her perfectly. “It’s yours.” She dug a bit further to find a couple of shirts she knew were there somewhere.

“I can’t accept this. It must be worth a fortune.”

Imogen turned back. “I was going to give it away anyway. This way I know which good home it’s going to.” She handed her the shirts. “Let’s see if they’ll let us use their change rooms.”

After a brief discussion with the shopkeeper, Elle tried on the suit while Imogen found some shoes to match: a gorgeous pair of black pumps.

The whole outfit made Elle look professional and in charge. Imogen could see the change in the woman from the way she stood straighter, shoulders back and head held high. The only thing that was missing was a decent haircut.

Imogen hesitated but when Elle brushed back her hair and sighed, she had to speak up.

“Can I do something else for you?” she asked, and when Elle looked at her she continued: “I have a great hair stylist and I’d love you to have your hair done by him. Just to finish off the outfit and give you a boost. It would be my treat, of course.”

Elle had already begun to shake her head. “I can’t. You’ve done too much.”

“I know how a good haircut makes me feel so much better. Please. How about I give him a call and see if he can squeeze you in? If he can’t, I’ll drop it.”

The woman hesitated and then nodded. “All right.”

Imogen dialed her stylist’s number and walked away so Elle could get changed. “Joseph, I need a favor,” she said when he answered. She explained the situation. “Can you squeeze her in?”

“For you, Imogen, I will.”

She sighed in relief. “Do whatever you and Elle want and call me with the bill. I’ll pay for whatever you think is needed.”

Joseph chuckled. “I think I’m going to have fun.”

Imogen smiled. “I’ll send her around when we’re finished here.” She hung up. Toby and Christian had returned from the homewares. Toby was holding the vase and Christian was holding a cowboy, horse and other toys.

“Is this all right?” Toby asked, handing her the little crystal vase, only big enough to hold a single bloom.

“It’s perfect!”

Toby grinned and turned to take the cowboy and horse from Christian. Elle came out of the change room.

“Look, Mom. Look at all of this!” The delight on the little boy’s face was beautiful.

“You’re very lucky. Have you thanked Imogen and Chris for the gifts?”

Toby turned to Imogen. “Thank you, Imogen. Thank you, Chris.”

“You’re most welcome.”

She walked next to Elle and scribbled down Joseph’s address. “He can squeeze you in,” she told Elle. “Do you have a car to get there?”

Elle glanced at the address and her eyes widened. “I can’t go there!”

“Of course you can. My treat. Joseph is under instructions to do whatever you want but I need to warn you, he is pushy. Whatever he suggests will be fabulous, so trust him.” She handed Elle the paper and she took it with reluctance.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She held her breath. She really wanted Elle to accept but knew some people found taking charity difficult.

“Thank you.” Elle hugged Imogen, who exhaled in a rush, her heart giddy.