Exposed: New Adult Sport Romance (The Boys of Winter Book 5) (3 page)

“It would, if I were into haute couture. But I prefer to work with affordable materials and create for the average woman.”

“I’ve seen your designs, they’re lovely. Kind of like Robin Kaplan and Krista Larson.”

I just about spit out my food. “How do you know about that?”

Neal winks at me. “I do my research when I find something that interests me.”

I realize Nika knows Krista and Robin are some of my favorite designers, and I send her a quick glare. She raises her eyebrows and takes a sip of wine. My boss has been matchmaking. I taunt back. “So you’re interested in fashion now?” I lift my glass to drink more wine and realize I’m almost done with my second glass. It’s a good thing we usually have our meeting with coffee, because I doubled my alcohol intake tonight. My slightly drunk state explains why I can’t keep my eyes off the attractive man across from me. Because I think I’ve got a new interest, too.

“The business of it, yes. Tell me, why aren’t you pursuing your creative career?”

I shrug. I do miss designing, but putting it on hold for a job that pays me well has been fine. However, Neal’s question makes me wonder just how fine it is. “It wasn’t going so well. I’m not good at getting my clothes in retail shops. It requires someone who’s willing to be extroverted, and that’s not me.”

“Sounds to me like you need a partner.”

I snort. “Yeah, well, that might be a plan if I made money. Not many people want to work for nothing.”

“If you found the right partner, you’d make money. Your job would be to create the fabulous product, while someone else got it seen by the right eyes.”

I down the last of my wine and say, “That would be a dream come true.”

Christian grins and says, “I couldn’t have led into our meeting any better. Nice one, Neal.”

I glance at three smiling faces. “I think I’ve been set up.”

Nika and I stand and gather things to clear the table. She says, “Not really. Earlier we got talking about plans for the Vail and Aspen stores, and Neal came up with an interesting idea. I think you’re going to like it.”

Water rushes as I rinse plates for the dishwasher. The aroma of dark roast coffee floats to me as beans crunch in the grinder Nika operates. By the time we finish cleaning the kitchen, hot liquid has finished dripping into the pot.

Everyone helps themselves to coffee, and we gather in the living room for our meeting. I say, “Okay, before we go over the usual, someone better enlighten me about the great idea.”

Nika’s practically bouncing as she begins to speak. “Vail and Aspen are ripe with little indie-based boutiques. We think we should have a Ruby Raines shop connected to Rhinestone Cowgirl in both locations.” Her hands move as she speaks, and I notice Christian discreetly move her mug out of the way.

“Christian and I could partner with you, or—” Nika turns away from me to look at Neal on the couch that faces mine. “Neal could be your partner, and we keep it as two businesses.”

Neal as my partner? Oh, man. “I. Um, I’m not sure what to say.” Judging by his track record, he would make me a success, but… Yeah, oh boy.

Christian says, “You can also stay solo, and Nika and I would help you. Whatever you feel most comfortable doing. But I’ve got to tell you, I think this idea is brilliant.” He slurps hot coffee.

I take a deep breath because I’m overwhelmed. “My first concern is getting too big. I haven’t had much luck finding good help that sews well and wants to come to work.”

Neal says, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but hiring and keeping good employees is hard, and perhaps you just didn’t have enough experience.”

I chuckle. “I’m not taking that the wrong way. I know I didn’t have a clue. Being Rhinestone Cowgirl’s manager has taught me a few things, and I’m probably better now, but it’s still a worry.”

Nika says, “So if we can figure out your production problem, would you consider it?”

I envision a small shop space full of just my designs, and a smile forms on my face. The fantasy is definitely appealing, but the business side scares me. “I will.”

While I have no doubt Christian and Nika would be great partners, I have to wonder how a three-person relationship would work out, knowing I would always be the odd man out.

I glance at Neal as he speaks. “If you’d like, I can lay out outlines for you and walk you through how to do this on your own, with me as a partner, and with Christian and Nika as partners.”

“Oh. I—” I stop to find the right words because this is moving too quickly for me. “I feel a little lost about the business side, but I can’t ask you to do that.” I take a sip of my coffee and hold it on my tongue for a moment, letting the flavor sink in.

“How about if I want to do it? Even if you decide to go solo I would enjoy helping you start a business.”

Neal’s voice is sincere, and I’m tempted. I say, “Let me think this over and let you know. I need time to figure out if it’s something I really want to do.”

He says, “Of course. Take all the time you need, and I’m always available for questions so don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks. I will.”

We move on to the scheduled discussion about the new shops. I do my best to pay attention, but my mind is racing with thoughts about having not one but two boutiques dedicated to my lines.

When it’s time to leave, Neal walks out with me. He stands by my car as a beep sounds when I unlock it with the remote. He says, “I was serious about wanting to help you. Running businesses is my passion, and it would be fun for me.”

“Thank you. I have no doubt you would do right by me. But are you prepared to teach me everything? Because we flaky artist types aren’t that great with numbers.”

The low baritone of his laugh wraps around me like a hug. “I think you underestimate yourself. I know there’s a brain in that pretty head of yours.”

The leftovers container plops on my passenger seat when I toss it. “If I decide to go through with this, I’ll most certainly test your patience.”

“Test away. I think you should let me be your partner, because I promise you won’t regret it.” Neal pulls out his phone and asks, “What’s your number? I’ll text you, and then you’ll have mine.”

I give it to him as I climb into my car. The chill of my seat bites into my thighs. “Good night, Neal.”

“See you soon. You know where to find me.” Neal waves his phone at me and walks in front of my car as my phone bleeps with his text. I smile, thinking about his kindness.

Backing out of the driveway, Neal’s promise makes me remember Trevor, and I recall his voice in my head. “I promise you won’t regret this.” Funny thing about promises: they’re easy to give. It’s living up to them that’s hard.

Chapter 4

M
y apartment isn’t much more than a small renovated barn. This is actually where my mother and I lived the year we came here to have my baby. I was excited to find the landlord was once again looking for a renter, and she was thrilled to have me back.

The main floor is open, and half the second floor is a loft setup. Fortunately, there’s a staircase instead of a ladder, and my pregnant body appreciated it. My home is spacious for one and allows me a sewing area I have blocked off with partition screens. Since closing down my seamstress business, the odd jobs I pick up at Rhinestone Cowgirl, and from past customers, I do at home now.

The kettle whistles, and I pad over to the kitchen to make my tea. My drive back from Nika’s was spent dreaming about the layout of a shop dedicated to me; and that led to new design ideas. The first thing I did after walking in the door was grab my sketchpad and pencils to draw.

When ideas flow, I capture them on paper until they stop. Not the least bit tired, I may be up until the wee hours working tonight as my brain wraps around the exciting prospect of running a real clothing business.

Dunking my tea bag, I wander over to turn up the thermostat as a small shiver runs through me. When I graduated from college, I decided to move back to Breckenridge. While I spent most of my life on the East Coast, there’s something about the Rockies that feels like home.

My plan was to pay the bills with making alterations, as I created my line to be sold at wholesale shows and through reps. At my first show I landed a few good accounts, but I was in trouble as soon as I realized I needed reliable help to get the garments sewn.

After a few bad employees who left me with mistakes I had to fix and less money than before I hired them, I ended up backing out on future orders because I couldn’t keep up. Frustrated, I jumped at the chance to work as the manager for Rhinestone Cowgirl.

My pencil scratches against paper as I work out the lines of a blouse. Now that my savings are depleted from my failed business attempt, I’m gun-shy about starting a new one. I’m also smart enough to know the best way to keep from repeating my past mistake is to get a savvy partner.

As much as the idea makes me nervous, Neal Morgan might not be a bad decision. I reach for my tea, and when I take a sip, it’s cold. The least I can do is see his plan for me.

The door of the microwave slams as I close it to reheat my drink. As the cup in the oven whirls, I glance at my phone charging on the kitchen counter. The plastic case is cool in my hand as I tap out a text to Neal. “I’d like to talk about your plan. When’s good for you?”

It’s three in the morning, and I decide I can work for another half hour but have to go to bed when my tea gets cold again. While I don’t need to be at work until noon, I function better with seven hours of sleep.

My phone vibrates on the counter within minutes of my text. I pick it up to find Neal replied.

“I have most mornings free. What are you doing up so late?”

I was just thinking the same thing. “Sketching, why are you up?”

“Making a business plan for a talented friend of mine.”

“:) I work at noon. 11?”

“Great, meet me at Mo Joes.”

My phone clatters on the counter top, and I decide to stop working. Instead I’ll dream of my awesome new stores in swanky Vail and Aspen.

***

Even though I should have had plenty of time to get ready, somehow I’m going to be late. Scribbling out the quick design that came to me as I was brushing my teeth took more time than I thought. I haven’t been so jazzed to create in months. I leave the house with soaking wet hair that should dry in nice ringlets if I’m lucky and my sketch pad in case I have a free moment.

The sky is deep blue with a bright sun, making it appear deceivingly warm. But a quick glance at my rearview mirror thermometer says it’s not. Speeding a little, I pull into the parking lot only a couple of minutes past eleven. Neal’s black BMW is already in its spot, and I walk quickly in the brisk air toward the coffee shop.

It’s set behind The Wine and Cheese Shop Neal owns and is designed to be a takeout place. I arrive out of breath and spot Neal behind the counter when I walk in the door. He notices me, and I say, “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

“Are you? No problem.” He hands me a coffee.

I don’t buy for one second he doesn’t know I’m late, but I smile and let it go. My hair froze on the way through the parking lot, and when I move my head, icy strands create the smallest clinking noise. A hat would have been a good idea.

The heat from the paper cup warms my hands as the scent of pumpkin and cinnamon tempts me to take a sip. Neal comes out from behind the counter and says, “Follow me.”

He’s dressed in a warm-looking sheepskin jacket. When we get out the door, he asks, “No gloves? Aren’t your hands cold?”

“Yeah, I was running late and forgot them.” I hold my coffee with both hands and say, “But this is keeping me warm.”

He shakes his head as he tucks a white paper bag under his arm and takes off his gloves. “Here.”

“No. That will make your hands cold.”

“Fine. Take one and we can each put our other hand in a pocket.”

I smile because my fingers are freezing, and it’s a good compromise. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to my top-secret office. Be prepared to be impressed.”

We walk about a block down to his bar and dance club. They’re underground, and he pulls a door open to a staircase that descends to a tile-floored lobby. Warm air envelops me, and I sigh. Neal walks straight ahead, and keys jingle as he takes them out of his pocket to open a door I’ve never noticed. It’s the same color as the wall and flush, but the lock and handle make it obvious you can enter.

“Here it is. Do I live the life, or what?” He sweeps his arm as we enter a room without windows that has shelves of boxes.

I begin to read the labels of restaurant supplies but stop when I see something called urinal cakes. Eewww. “I’ll bet you get a lot of work done.”

A chair scrapes against ceramic tile as he pulls one over to the edge of his desk. “That I do. Have a seat, and I’ll show you what I’ve been working on.”

Piles that appear to be receipts or packing slips are on one side of the wooden desk, and a laptop chimes when Neal turns it on. “I brought us chocolate croissants. Want one?” Paper tears as he rips the bag open to lay flat.

“Of course, thank you.” I bite into a buttery pastry with a soft dark chocolate interior layer.