Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“This is an open door, which is more than 99% of the aspiring designers out there ever manage. It’s also a life experience.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’ll do it.”
“Excellent,” he says. “When do you leave?”
“The day after tomorrow. It’s so fast, but I have the store covered.”
“Then to Hawaii you go.”
I smile and sip my cocoa. “Yes. To Hawaii I go. Thanks, Dad.”
“Thank me by having a good time. And believing in yourself.”
When we hang up, I allow the excitement, rather than my frequent self-doubts, to win.
It’s time to think about packing.
Forty-eight hours later…
My travel is chaotic, with a massive delay and insane turbulence, but from the moment I reach the island and all its glorious beauty, my trip has been a fantasy come true. Considering the fashion show is right after my arrival, I don’t have much time to enjoy my location, but that said, my room does not disappoint. It’s a luxurious suite, and I have a bouquet of flowers waiting on me with a note from the staff at Moore’s: We can’t wait to see what you come up with for our new season.
It’s a lovely gesture, but quite confusing. Am I hired, or auditioning to be hired? Considering the hour, I have little time to ponder this question. I order room service, unpack, and dress in a sleek, stylish black skirt and blouse, and I’m off to the show. I end up seated next to a gorgeous redhead with striking green eyes and a big personality. Cara is with the press, eager to hear about my brand, and even more eager to talk to my father. We click so well, we critique each outfit together, and have an amazing time.
Hours later, with the show behind us, we head to the bar to unwind and talk about all we have experienced this day. Right now, she’s flirting with the bartender, the third guy in an hour she’s done this with. She really is exceptionally pretty and quite obviously enjoys male attention, but then why would she not? She’s single, and life is short. In contrast, I suck at flirting, so I don’t even try. I’m that girl who, should she attempt to walk sexily, lands in a hole and twists my ankle. Thus, why I do not attempt sexy on any level. My mom was the same way. My father claims he found it charming and, yes, sexy—a detail he loves to share.
The bartender walks away, and Cara grabs my arm and leans in close, her voice low and urgent. “Oh, my God. Do you see who’s here?”
“Since I know no one, probably, but it would mean nothing to me.”
“It’s Ethan Dalton. I have wanted an interview with him my entire life.”
My heart thunders in my chest. He’s the one my father was talking with about a merger or some sort of business deal. “Where?”
She lifts her chin in front of us, but to my right. “The really hot guy in the blue suit talking to that other guy, who is probably important too. Anyone who gets that close to Ethan is important. His family doesn’t just own a liquor company, they own an empire, including a big chunk of Moore’s Department Store. He must have been at the show.”
And yet, he couldn’t spare chump change for my father.
Which means he will probably shut me down as well. What are the odds that my future and my father’s would be tied to one man’s financial holdings? I guess if the holdings are large enough, it’s not impossible, obviously, but the odds feel forever against me.
My gaze travels to the two men in question, and there’s an instant awareness that rips through me. Ethan Dalton is probably the best-looking man I’ve ever seen in my life. His hair is dark and wavy, his jawline sharp, his features just plain handsome. He’s maybe late thirties to my late twenties, fit with long legs that say he’s tall. He has the kind of body a suit looks good on, and there’s no doubt his is custom. I’m staring at him—I just can’t seem to help it—when suddenly his gaze lifts over the other man’s shoulder and lands on me.
I suck in a breath. No. No. No. This is not happening, and yet, it is. His lips curve, eyes alight with amusement. I’m busted, and now I look, and feel, like an idiot.
The other man stands, and Ethan rises with him.
“What just happened?” Cara demands. “Did you—” She turns to me and grabs my arm again, fingers digging urgently into my arm. “Did you just have a moment with Ethan Dalton?”
“An embarrassing one,” I say, face-palming before I tilt my head in her direction. “I was staring at him like a schoolgirl, and he caught on.”
“He’s eye candy, honey. How can you not stare?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “And he was staring back.”