Full Circle (7 page)

* * *

The clothes
were almost flying off the stand today, but Bella didn’t have time to think
about why. She glanced up between customers to check the other stands, but the
crowd was mostly clustered in front of her.

“Coming
through.” A pushy woman was elbowing people out of the way as she forced her
way to the front. “How do you feel about being the favorite designer for Kate
Brannon’s young daughter?”

Bella looked
up, angered. She always tried to give each customer her undivided attention,
and she intended to ask this woman to wait her turn. Then she noticed the
microphone in the woman’s hand. Around the base of the microphone, the familiar
logo of a local entertainment channel was clearly visible. A cameraman stood
off to the side and she looked in his direction, blinking in the bright lights.

“Excuse me,”
she said, reining in her temper, “but I’m helping a customer here.”

The
television interviewer was either deaf, or incredibly rude. Bella suspected the
latter. “But you’re famous,” the reporter insisted, shoving the microphone
forward again. “It’s in the new issue of
People
this week. Pictures of
Kate Brannon and her daughter Kristy.” The young daughter of the famous
television star was considered a fashion diva in her own right. “Kristy says
she won’t wear anything but your clothes.”

Bella smiled
apologetically at the customer, but the woman didn’t seem to mind a bit. As a
matter of fact, she’d wormed her way forward to be in the shot.
Only in Los
Angeles
. The cameraman panned slowly over the stand, pausing on the sign
before bringing the lens back to the interviewer.

“You look
surprised,” she said, seemingly pleased to have been the one to bring Bella the
news. “I guess that means Kristy and her Mom didn’t come here on their own?”

Bella
regained her composure. “Not that I’m aware of, no. But I’m delighted that
she’s pleased with what we have to offer.” She smiled at the interviewer. No
sense making an enemy of the woman. “You said the magazine came out today?”

The
interviewer nodded.

Bella looked
into the camera. “Then I guess that’s why we’re so busy.” She gestured to the
crowd around her stand and tried to make eye contact with as many as possible.
“I’m sorry to make you wait, but I’ll help each and every one of you just as
soon as I can.”

“There you
have it folks, direct from the market at Venice Beach.” The interviewer turned
to face the camera. “Your first look at the exciting offerings of
Bella
,
favorite new designer of Kristy Brannon.”

* * *

Rafael was
uncharacteristically nervous as he strolled from the parking area to the
boardwalk. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to say. These were two
women who’d obviously worked hard to get this far; they may view his interest
suspiciously. He’d have to judge that as he went along.

He shook his
head but gave a friendly smile to a couple of vendors who tried to interest him
in their wares. Business was slower today, so the crowd around the clothing
stand was even more noticeable. There seemed to be some jostling going on and
he stepped forward quickly, his protective instincts already coming to the
fore. He had a personal interest in these women.

He spotted
the television camera before he saw the woman holding the microphone.

He skirted
the crowd and backed up, trying to get a better view.

“Quite a
little circus over there,” said a voice behind him. He turned to see a large
man wearing a cap and a navy blue t-shirt with “Randy’s” silk screened in white
across the front. A large white apron tied around his waist completed the
outfit.

“I wonder
what’s going on,” Rafael murmured.

“Bella was
some angry, I can tell you that much.” There was a touch of pride in the large
man’s voice. “I heard her tell the broad with the microphone to back off, that she
was serving her customers.”

It was then
that Rafael noticed the sign. “I see they have a new sign.” He tried to spot
Bella through the crowds, but to no avail. Besides, he didn’t know what she
looked like.

“Yeah. I was
just telling Bella I’d be sorry to see them go.”

Rafael’s head
snapped around. “They’re leaving?”

Randy looked
at him suspiciously. “And who might you be?”

Rafael
thought quickly. “I met Sofia last week and I thought I’d stop by for another
visit.” This was one time when his Spanish heritage worked to his benefit. “But
I don’t see her.”

The big man
seemed to accept Rafael’s explanation. “She’s not here today. Bella’s handling
the stand on her own.” He paused for a moment; the television interview seemed
to be coming to an end. “No, what I meant about them leaving is that they’re
getting too big for this place.” His gaze swept the boardwalk. “As I said to
Bella, I’ve been working this place for a long time. The ones with real talent
always seem to move on.” He rocked back on his heels like a proud father.
“Look, there she is now.”

Rafael
couldn’t spot her. “Where”

“There.”
Randy jabbed a finger at the tent across the way where the crowd had parted for
a moment. “She’s talking to the woman with the kid.”

“That’s
Bella?” Rafael studied her face. She was turning a garment inside out and
explaining the construction to a young woman. Her attention shifted to the
young girl alongside the woman, and all three smiled at something that was
said.

She was
beautiful, but in an understated way; a refreshing change from the overly made
up, perfection-driven women he’d seen around Los Angeles. Her long hair was the
color of wild honey. It had been pulled back with some sort of fabric retainer,
but it fell over her shoulder, swaying gently with each movement. Tendrils of
hair, curly from the early morning humidity, framed her face, giving the
impression of a young, vulnerable girl. He wished he was closer so he could see
her eyes. For one brief moment she looked up and glanced in his direction, but
a fresh group of eager customers closed the gap through which he’d been
watching her.

The timing
was all wrong; Rafael had recognized that fact the moment he spotted the
television cameras. He’d have to come back on the weekend, and hope that they’d
be willing to talk to him.

* * *

The rest of
the day passed in a blur. Bella had witnessed the power of ‘stardom’ several
times since her move to the west coast, but it had never touched her
personally. It was a bit disconcerting at first, but as the day moved on she
recognized it as a huge break. She was sold out well before her usual time to
pack up. She’d been too busy to look much beyond the customers clustered around
her stand. At one point the crowds had parted and she thought she’d seen the
tanned, handsome man from the weekend by Randy’s stand but when she looked
again, he wasn’t there.

“Mommy!”
Melissa came flying down the boardwalk, Valeria close behind. “We came to help
you pack up.” Sofia followed at a more sedate pace. “Val and I are going to
school in September, and we met our teacher.” She stopped abruptly and looked
around. “Where is everything?” Her eyes grew wide. “Did you sell it all?”

Bella picked
up her daughter and swung her around. “Yes I did and I’ll tell you all about it
later, but right now I want to hear about school.” Her gaze met Sofia’s, who
was looking around incredulously. “Later,” she mouthed, as her friend calmly
started to dismantle the tent.

They stopped
at a mall to pick up pizza on the way home from the market. “Do you mind going
in to get it?” asked Bella. “I’d like to go next door and buy a magazine.”

Sofia gave
her an odd look, but complied. They continued home and Sofia set out the pizza
and drinks while Belle unloaded the vehicle.

* * *

“So what
happened?” asked Sofia. They were sitting in their usual spot on the front
porch. “I know you’re dying to tell me.”

Bella jumped
up, retrieved the magazine and handed it to her friend. “Check out page
twelve,” she said excitedly. “That’s what happened.” She strode back and forth
on the porch, unable to contain her excitement. “And I was interviewed by that
pushy woman on the entertainment channel.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh,
my God. I forgot to ask when it would be on.”

The phone
rang. Sofia answered it and exchanged words in rapid-fire Spanish. “That was
Consuela,” she said, searching for the remote. “She says your interview is
coming up in the next segment.”

They remained
standing while the piece ran. “Did I really say that?” wailed Bella as she
rebuffed the interviewer’s first attempt to talk. “And I look awful; like I
just got out of bed.”

Sofia waved
her concerns aside. She wandered silently back onto the porch and sat down, her
gaze on some distant point.

“What?” said
Bella finally, unable to bear the silence.

Sofia raised
her head and a smile played around the corners of her mouth. “I’m going to need
a dozen more piece workers. For the time being, at least.”

“For the time
being?” Bella wasn’t following.

“
Si
.
After that we need our own factory.”

Rafael paced
impatiently. This had quite possibly been the slowest weekend of his life. For
the tenth time since he got up this morning he went out onto the balcony and
stood, hands braced on the railing, looking out toward the ocean. There was no
sense going to see Sofia and Bella until the end of the day on Sunday, and yet
they’d been in his thoughts almost every minute since last Wednesday. A rare
smile broke through as he imagined how they’d scrambled to get enough product
ready for the weekend. But he knew they’d manage. And if they sold out, their
clothes would be in even greater demand...if that were possible.

* * *

“Can you
believe this?” Bella murmured under her breath. “We haven’t stopped since we
got here.”

Sofia lifted
the top on a storage box, but it was empty. She didn’t know why she’d bothered
to check...she’d opened it just twenty minutes ago and everything had been
snapped up as fast as she displayed it. There’d been a tense scene earlier
where one woman tried to rip a wrap-around skirt out of the hands of another
woman; Sofia had solved the problem by unloading the last of the merchandise.

“We’ll have
to stop soon,” she replied, jamming several bills into the cash box. “We’ve
sold just about everything.” A few sundresses were left; that was all.

Bella looked
at the empty racks and stretched her back. In anticipation of this weekend’s
rush, she’d spent hours and hours cutting fabric for Sofia to distribute to her
assembly workers. In addition, today had been stressful for both of them;
smiling and answering all the questions about the television interview, and the
piece in
People
. She really needed a coffee.

“I’m going to
pop over and get a coffee from Randy,” she said. “Want anything?”

“No, thanks.”
The crowds were finally thinning out and for the first time today she could see
beyond their stand. “Bella,” she said, tapping her friend on the arm. “Look who’s
here.”

Bella looked
in the direction Sofia had indicated. Across the boardwalk, the man she had
seen last weekend stood beside Randy’s stand, coffee cup in hand. He was
looking in her direction and raised the cup in a salute, a tentative smile on
his face. She hesitated. If she went over there now, would it look as though
she were responding to him? Suddenly she didn’t care; she was tired, hungry and
eager for the day to be over. She walked out from behind the stand.

“Here she is
now.” Randy beamed as though he had produced her, rabbit-like, from a hat.

She glanced
at the man who was even more handsome close up, if that was possible. After all
the attention she and Sofia had endured the past two days, this was almost too
much. “Any coffee left, Randy? I’m just about dead on my feet.”

“I’m brewing
a fresh pot.” Randy gestured to the small table and chairs, which were
thankfully empty. “Do you have time to wait?”

Bella looked
back toward the stand. The sun was sinking into the ocean and she had to shield
her eyes. Sofia was talking to a lone woman; the crowds seemed to have
disappeared.

“I guess so.
Thanks, Randy.” She lowered herself slowly onto the chair.

“You are
Bella?” Her name rolled around on his tongue. He came forward, one hand
extended. “I am Rafael Vargas.”

Of course
you are
, she thought. A man who looked like that was entitled to an elegant
name. She held out a weary hand. “Bella Thompson.”

Randy chose
that moment to bring her coffee. “He was here on Wednesday, looking for you,
but you were tied up with the television cameras.”

“You were?”
Wednesday seemed like so long ago. “Oh yes, I remember. You were also here last
weekend, weren’t you?”

The man
nodded. “Yes. I spoke to Sofia, but I didn’t see you.”

“I was over
here, having coffee.” She looked up at Randy and laughed. “Sounds like I do
that a lot, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t you
believe it.” Randy defended her. “This is one hard working girl.” He lifted the
hinged counter and went back inside the stand.

“I was hoping
to get a chance to speak to you and Sofia.” He paused. “Together.”

Bella
groaned. “I don’t mean to be rude, but we’ve had all the publicity we can
handle for a while.” Even with Sofia working her magic on the production end,
Bella wasn’t sure they’d be able to keep up with the demand.

“I’m not with
the press. May I?” The man sat down on the other chair without waiting for a
reply. “Actually, I’d be interested to know what the television coverage was
about.”

Bella looked
at him carefully. There was something about him that shouted money. Money and
breeding. “Are you Spanish?” she asked abruptly.