LITMIR.BIZ

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approval or without it.

      He took a careful step back, letting his hand drop to his side. “Just remember something—I wouldn’t be here if they’d been doing their jobs right in the first place. Okay?”

      Her nod was firm, though her eyes were still a little dazed.

      This meeting needed to get back on track. “Ziara,” he snapped, but with a little less bite than he’d used on the men. “The tablet, please.”

      She hurried to obey, giving him a moment to regain his focus before turning back to the others. When she handed over the device, he noticed the care she took not to touch him again. After a moment of tapping on the smooth surface, he paused, looking up at the group around him.

      “Current trends favor retro designs, new twists on the old, avant-garde as well as classic.” During his recent research, he’d seen some unique retro looks in the fashion and wedding magazines, and they had sparked his own creative imagination.

      “In less than three months, I’ll be showcasing our newest designs during a professional fashion show. We’re going to bring fashion week right here to Atlanta. It’ll be an exclusive, invitation-only event that I want people talking about for months.”

      As Sloan continued to explain the fall show, excitement crept over the anger that had tightened the designers’ faces. He might have punctured their egos earlier, but now he was tempting them.

      Lifting the tablet, he turned it around to face them. “Every event needs a theme, a focal point. This is ours.”

      “A car? Are you insane?” Robert yelled, returning to his angry disbelief.

      “Not just any car, a Rolls-Royce. A classic car epitomizing the elegance, sleek design and subtle sensuality of the late 1930s. An era where women flaunted sexy curves, draped their bodies with fabrics that showcased their femininity, and set out to entice the opposite sex. Think of the actresses of the time—Marlene Dietrich, Mae West, Vivian Leigh. The dresses they wore—the draped material, exposed backs...”

      He caught a glimmer of understanding in Ziara’s eyes. Knowledge of where he was going with this idea.

      “Ridiculous,” Robert insisted. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve heard in my lifetime.”

      Sloan wasn’t backing down. “We’re going to do this and do it right. Get on board, or jump overboard. Your choice.”

      * * *

      When had work started feeling like a taffy puller?

      Ziara waited until Sloan left the building for lunch before heading to Vivian’s office. Her stomach cramped, knowing Vivian would have already heard about the upcoming show, but also knowing she couldn’t blatantly walk out of Sloan’s office straight to his stepmother’s.

      Observing Sloan for two days had taught her one thing already—he wasn’t playing. His knowledge this morning showed he had done his homework on the market, design, themes, even fashion shows. He’d been calm but firm, occasionally harsh, with Robert and Anthony. Stepping solidly into a leadership role, even if he had to do it by force.

      Most disturbing of all, his ideas for the show intrigued her.

      With some organization, this could be an incredibly successful event, one the upper classes of Atlanta society would flock to in droves. Eternity Designs would be on the tip of everyone’s tongues and the front page in the society section. Notable brides would once again be drawn to the showroom for one-of-a-kind dresses.

      But to her shame, Sloan’s appeal continued to taunt her on a more physical level. Vivian had insisted she was the last woman who would be tempted by Sloan’s charm, but the need that had crawled into her body at his singular touch frightened her. She’d seen her mother move from man to man, taking whatever they could give her, using her body to manipulate them. Mixing business with pleasure was the last thing Ziara wanted in her life. The level of temptation here actually scared her bone deep.

      Abigail gave her a sympathetic look as she entered the room. “She’s waiting on you, Ziara.”

      I bet she is. Her hand pausing on the doorknob, Ziara only let herself hesitate a second before going in.

      “Ah, Ziara,” Vivian said from behind her antique desk. “I see you have finally deigned to bring me news.”

      Vivian gestured for her to sit. The walk across the room distracted Ziara from the uneasiness caused by Vivian’s words. “I felt it appropriate to wait until Sloan left for lunch—”

      “Why? He’s surely aware that one of your jobs is to keep me informed. Next time I want to hear it from you, rather than the office grapevine.”

      Yes, but I couldn’t bring myself to rub my choices in his face. She’d probably heard from the Old Brigade, who’d run to Vivian to tattle the minute they’d realized they were losing control.

      Ziara wondered if they remembered Vivian had once been a mere secretary—and how long it had taken them to accept the new order of things when she took over. Given the evidence from this morning, Ziara didn’t think acceptance had come quickly.

      “I’m very excited about this new idea for the line’s presentation,” she started.

      “Ah yes, the fashion show. I hate to admit it, but I’m seeing the merits of this plan myself. I want a full report.”

      “I’ve just started working on the details. I’m looking into venues, modeling agencies and such.”

      “Keep me informed as everything takes shape.”

      Ziara murmured, “Yes, ma’am,” under her breath, but Vivian was already moving on.

      “Make it good. Getting some choice buyers in here will make this the must-have ticket of the fall season. I’ll have Abigail get you a list of contacts, and I want to know as soon as the RSVPs come in.”

      If Sloan was a train squishing her on the tracks, Vivian was a wrecking ball, destroying Ziara’s calm handling of this difficult assignment. Her mentor ran through a laundry list of items she wanted Ziara to check into, almost doubling the amount of work Sloan had given her. She saw quite a few late nights in her near future.

      “Since you will be in the thick of all of this, Ziara—” Vivian’s spine straightened as if bracing herself for what was to come “—you should know...if our largest buyer pulls her orders, as she has threatened if the line doesn’t move in a more modern, unique direction, it will put the company in a very disadvantageous financial position.”

      Even Vivian’s attempt at genteel diplomacy couldn’t hide the facts: Eternity Designs was in deep financial trouble. The confirmation of the actual problem had Ziara’s stomach dropping like it would on a roller coaster, a ride she avoided getting on at all costs.

      Coming to work here, helping to build some of the finest dresses and dreams, had been like finding her true home. She wasn’t ready to leave.

      Vivian’s fingers spun her wedding band in an endless circle. “So you can see how very important it is for the fall line to be not just good, but spectacular. By putting you in his office, I can let Sloan think he’s in charge until we see what he decides to do with the fall line.” Vivian’s heeled pump set up a twitchy rhythm. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s sneaky, deceptive. His mother’s lower-class roots are showing, I guess.”

      Ziara controlled the surprise that threatened to bloom on her face. Social standing had always been important to Vivian, but Ziara had never before seen evidence of prejudice.

      “I know you said he was rebellious as a teenager.” Perfectly normal, in Ziara’s opinion. “Why would you think he’s up to something now?”

      Being on the receiving end of Vivian’s glare wasn’t comfortable.

      “Haven’t you ever heard that a leopard never changes its spots?” Vivian asked. “Besides, there are rumors that he uses some rather ruthless tactics

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