Your Captivating Love (20 page)

Logan: I did. In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t discover it already. He’s my spy, makes sure you behave.

My eyes widen as I clutch the phone, inspecting the shop. Sure enough, I find an elf sitting on one of the shelves in the back.

Nadine: How did this get here?

Logan: I have my spies.

Nadine: Pippa brought it, didn’t she? When she picked up the dresses?

Logan: Bravo, Sherlock.

I turn the elf so his back is facing me, snap a picture, and send it to Logan.

Nadine: He can’t see me anymore. I can be as naughty as I want with the chocolate man.

Logan: Are you trying to make me jealous?

Nadine: Is it working?

Logan: Yes.

Nadine: Great. Jealous enough to return one day earlier?

Logan: No can do, though I’ll make sure to tell the shop to send someone else with the delivery tomorrow. Have to go to a meeting right now.

Nadine: *sad face*

Logan: Before I forget... Don’t wear panties at the gallery. I’ll just rip them apart.

Oh, my
.

***

I
am very optimistic on Friday, for several reasons. The first: Logan returns tonight. He’ll meet me at Summer’s gallery. No matter how the bloggers react to my dresses, it appeases me that Logan will be there.

The second reason for my optimism: I have three more customers. When I close for the day, there’s a dance in my step all the way to Logan’s. I do my hair and makeup meticulously, and put on the same dress I wore to the theater. I’ve lived in New York, so I’m aware this is a fashion no-go, but I can’t afford to waste another one of my dresses on myself. In the cab to the gallery, I force myself not to chew my lip so I don’t wipe away the lipstick. The venue is at the base of the Twin Peaks, and it’s already buzzing with visitors and press.
Okay, here goes nothing. Fingers crossed.
I exit the cab.

Logan waits for me a few feet away from the entrance. He grabs my waist, pulling me away into a shadowed corner, kissing me hungrily.

“I’ve missed you,” he says. “Even if you gave me a bruise.”

“I’ve missed you too, and I don’t believe I gave you a bruise.”

“I’ll show it to you as soon as we’re alone,” he says seductively. “Now, let’s go inside before I change my mind, and steal you for myself for tonight.”

“Mmm, impatient, aren’t you?” I tease.

“You have no idea. I’ve fantasized about your sweet little body for days.” He cups my jaw, rubbing his thumb across my skin.

“I’ll give you something else to fantasize about.” I drop my voice to a whisper. “I’m not wearing panties.”

His eyes darken, and his grip firms on my jaw. “Woman, you want to drive me crazy?”

“You told me not to wear any, and I thought it was an excellent suggestion. I’m all commando down here. You’re welcome to check.”

He drops his hand, taking a step back. “Go inside.” His voice sounds a lot like a growl, which makes me smile.

“Not going to join me? Going to keep lurking in the shadows? Fantasizing about the commando situation?”

He chuckles. “I’m hard. I’ll walk this erection off ‘in the shadows,’ and then I’ll join everyone inside the gallery.”

I catch my breath, not daring to lower my gaze, and leave him to walk it off.

I walk into the gallery and notice the three Bennett sisters plus Ava posing for pictures in front of a group of people with cameras.

“There’s the woman we’ve all been waiting for,” Summer says. Alice pulls me to the group. “Meet Nadine Hawthorne, the genius behind these gorgeous dresses we’re wearing.”

“These are the bloggers,” Pippa whispers in my ear as we’re asked to pose for another photo. Pippa wasn’t entirely truthful. She didn’t invite just a few blogger friends—she invited a dozen.

After the group photo, we spread out. Summer takes the press on a tour of her paintings while the bloggers assault me with questions.

“Could we come by your shop?”

“Do you have more pictures?”

“Is Pippa’s dress available in a smaller size? I’d love to buy it. No? Shucks.”

I chat with them for what feels like hours, and my anxiety decreases bit by bit. These women seem to genuinely like my dresses. Not only the ones in sight tonight, but also those from the portfolio I have on my phone. A few times, I catch Logan’s eyes. He stares at me with a smile from across the room. A proud smile. Butterflies roam around inside my belly.

Toward the end of the evening, the bloggers leave, promising to send me links to their posts in the coming week. Two even promise to post during the weekend. I’m ecstatic, but the moment they leave, tiredness hits me, almost giving me whiplash. I find Logan, but he’s talking to Summer, and I decide to wait until they finish. Summer confided in me that her expos don’t get easier, even though she’s done many, and her family is her rock for each one.

“Ms. Hawthorne, is it?” a man’s voice sounds from behind me as I admire a painting. I swirl around.

“Yes.” I size him up and down.

“Archer Daring. Nice to meet you.” We shake hands
.
“I happened to notice that you’re in the garment industry,” he says.

“I am.”

“So am I. I have a chain of boutique stores in Europe: Paris, London, Milan, and Barcelona. Why don’t you tell me a bit about you? Judging by what I see here tonight, your style fits ours. I’m always on the lookout for up-and-coming designers.”

The words
up-and-coming
fill me with pride. Exuberant, I tell him about my store, and he inquires more about my designs. Just like I did with the bloggers, I also show him the pictures on my phone. At the end of the conversation, we exchange business cards. When he tells me, he’ll contact me about the possibility of selling my designs in his stores, I nearly faint.

“Also, I’d love to get to know you better, on a personal level. Maybe we can grab a coffee sometime?”

Wow, that was smooth.
I hope his offer of collaboration wasn’t just a way to get in my pants, but if it was, he can shove it up his ass.

“I’m dating someone,” I reply, “but let me know if you’re interested in my designs.”

He presses his lips together. “Of course. You’ll hear from me soon.” Then he leaves.

***

“C
an I kidnap you now?” Logan whispers in my ear a while later.

“I barely had time to admire the paintings.” I’m standing in front of one right now.

“I can sum them up for you: My sister’s a genius, they are great.”

“Won’t she miss you if we leave?”

“The place is swarming with Bennetts: siblings, cousins, adopted Bennetts. One less won’t matter.”

“I disagree, I think you matter the most.”

“Mmm. . . You’re biased, though.”

“A bit.” I hold my thumb and forefinger together, smiling. “Let’s do a small round so I can at least say I’ve seen all the paintings, and then we can go.”

“You can never straight-out agree with me, can you?” He shakes his head, smiling.

“Where would be the fun in that?”

“Indeed. Okay, let’s stay for a while.” Pushing a strand of my hair behind my ear, he gives me a quick peck on my lips. “At any rate, I can finally show off my girlfriend at my arm. I spent the evening admiring you from afar. You were very professional.” There’s an edge to his voice, and I know what’s causing it. “Who was the guy you talked to forever?”

I smile.
Bingo.
“Are you ready?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I might have my first partner. That guy has a chain of boutiques in Europe, and he’d like to showcase my designs too.”

“What’s his name?”

“Archer Daring. Don’t laugh.”

“How about if I say it as Daring Archer. Can I laugh then?” Logan immediately bursts out laughing, of course.

“Fine, laugh. I’m excited, though.”

“What did he say exactly?”

I recount the conversation quickly. I expected him to share my exuberance; instead, his expression is grim.

“People don’t go around offering partnership deals like that.”

“Well, he didn’t say it’s a done deal. Just hinted he’s interested.”

“Be careful, okay? I want you to keep me informed of every step you take.”

I look at my toes. “Why? You don’t trust my judgment enough to let me decide on my own?”

“That’s not true, Nadine. I want the best for you.”

“Fine, I’ll keep you informed. But you stay out of this.”

Logan remains silent.

“Promise me,” I press.

“Fine, I promise.”

I debate whether I should tell him that Archer asked me out on a date. I go for honesty though he’ll dislike Archer even more.

“He also asked me out,” I confess.

Logan’s jaw ticks. “Okay. I’ll stay out of it right after I punch him. Where is he?”

“Nothing like some jealousy to take the gentle out of gentleman, and bring the cave in,” I mutter to myself. “Relax, Logan. I told him I’m seeing someone.”

“Doesn’t make me want to punch him any less.”

“It’s your fault for giving me naughty ideas,” I say coyly. “He probably felt the sexy vibes from my commando situation.”

“That’s it.” His eyes glint with desire as he steps closer, eying my mouth. I lick my lips to egg him on. The air between us instantly charges with sexual tension. Logan steps closer, and my knees weaken as his warm breath caresses my lips. “You’re mine, Nadine. Every inch of you is mine. Now, let’s go home and I’ll show you.”

This time, I don’t argue.

––––––––

O
n Saturday, Logan and I head to the shop to finish setting up the back room, where I’ll keep my inventory. For now, I’ve only brought half of the boxes stacked with expensive designer dresses from my apartment. I’ll bring the rest after we finish today.

We’re done by late afternoon, and then drive Logan’s car to my place so we can load the boxes.

When we arrive in front of the building, it’s clear we won’t be able to park nearby, and Logan says, “Why don’t you go in and start preparing everything? I’ll come up after I find a place to park.”

“Sure.”

I exit the car, heading inside with a dance in my step. My fingers tingle with the temptation of checking my email, to see if any of the bloggers wrote about my designs already, but I keep myself in check. I'm ridiculous. They all must have better things to do on a Saturday. Still, the temptation is here, and it’s nearly irresistible.

My euphoria takes a nosedive once I open the door to my apartment. On a sigh, I make my way between the boxes.

I’m in the process of counting the boxes when all hell breaks loose. A fire alarm rings loudly. My stomach gives a painful jolt as I swirl on my heels, facing my closed door. I’ve lived in many shitholes in my life and experienced false alarms more than once. Something tells me it’s not false this time. The hairs rise on the back of my neck.

Without hesitation, I open the front door and head out into the corridor. At first glance, nothing is wrong. But then I peer over the railing, looking down then up the staircase. There is thick gray smoke on the floor above me. My heart sinks, my pulse quickens. In case of fire, one shouldn’t use elevators. Right. I’m on the fourth floor. With the deafening alarm ringing in my ears, I skid down the stairs.

Rushing downward, I exert the muscles in my calves until they burn. I don’t slow down until I reach the first floor, where it’s crowded with the rest of the residents, all trying to get out. When I glance up the staircase, a knot forms in my throat. There are flames in sight, and the smoke is thick, which can kill as viciously as fire does. Covering my ears, I rise on my toes, trying to see what’s keeping us from escaping. To no avail. We don’t have much time. The air grows hotter, thicker. Every breath brings more torture than relief. My eyes water, and the crowd isn’t moving. Suddenly, dust falls on us, thick and suffocating. I turn my eyes up and freeze.

The staircase will collapse on us.

***

“W
hat do you mean, I have to remain calm?” I ask the police officer through gritted teeth. “That building’s on fucking fire. There are people inside.” Nadine is inside.

“The firefighters will be here any minute now, and they will do their best,” he replies. His voice is so calm and robotic that it makes want to smash his nose.

I ball my hands into fists. The top floor is in flames. “This building will burn to the ground in a few fucking minutes. Where the fuck are the firefighters?”

“Sir, I will ask you to step back and calm down,” he says in the same robotic voice. I back up, panic replacing my anger as flames engulf the fourth floor as well. My pulse quickens and my mind turns blank except for one thought:
I am powerless, and I might lose the woman I love.

Someone shoves me hard in the back, and I realize there’s a crowd behind me that wasn’t here before. From the fleeting comments I catch, they live in the neighboring buildings.

“The firefighters are here,” someone from the back of the crowd calls, and some of my sanity returns. They’re not
here
, per se, but I can hear their siren.

They arrive within seconds, followed by ambulances. Jesus. Ambulances. My blood goes cold.

I watch as if in a nightmare as the firefighters rescue the residents, and hand them over to the paramedics. I make my way through the crowd, desperate to see Nadine. She must be okay.
Please, dear God, let her be okay
. I cannot lose her. I
will not
lose her.

“Everyone was evacuated,” someone yells through the crowd as I finally reach the ambulances.

My heart constricts when I see her, covered in dust and whatnot. Her eyes are wide and fearful as she peers around her frantically. She only calms down when she sees me walking to her.

I step inside the ambulance and hug her as the paramedic scribbles something on a piece of paper. Nadine molds into my arms, fisting my shirt. She’s trembling slightly, and so am I. The relief of having her with me again is overwhelming. “Nadine, are you hurt?” My voice quivers.

She opens her mouth, but no words come out, so she shakes her head.