Season for Love

“Dash Migilio. I emailed you a copy of his résumé and bio. Also, here’s a hard copy.” She handed Lark a folder.

Lark opened the folder and scanned the information as she walked. “Impressive.”

When they reached the conference room, a tall man dressed in a gray European-cut suit was standing at the window with his back to the door. Lark cleared her throat and he turned around.

Lark took a good look at the handsome stranger. He had curly, coal-black hair, an olive complexion and warm, greenish-brown eyes. His face looked like that of a young Warren Beatty. Lark scanned the length of his toned physique. She could feel her throat becoming parched as she stood there staring at the gorgeous man. Normally, she wasn’t attracted to younger men, but this guy had her full attention.

“I’m sorry I’m early.” He walked toward Lark and extended his hand. “I’m Dash Migilio.”

“Hello. I’m Lark Randolph,” she said, still studying his chiseled face.

“I know. I’ve seen your picture in the trades numerous times. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” He beamed a bright white smile.

Even his teeth are perfect, Lark thought. “Please have a seat. This is Angelica, my assistant, and she’s going to sit in on the meeting.”

“Nice to meet you, Angelica,” he said, extending his hand.

And he’s polite, too!

After they were seated at the conference table, Lark took a breath and refocused. She had been momentarily taken aback by his good looks and charm, but now she needed to move on to business. She glanced down at his résumé.

“I see that you interned at Ralph Lauren.”

“That was during my senior year at Pratt. I worked closely with several designers there. The experience was invaluable.”

“After graduation you worked with Andrew Marc for a few years.”

“Yes, I was a junior designer and learned a great deal about the outerwear business.”

“You’ve only been employed by male designers. Do you have a problem working with women?” she asked point-blank.

“Not at all,” he said, smiling.

Ohh...I could get lost in that smile of his.

Lark cleared her throat, trying to free her mind of unprofessional thoughts. “There’s a twelve-month gap on your résumé. Why?” she asked.

“I spent a year in Italy at my family’s estate. I’m a first-generation New Yorker. My parents are from Florence, where they own a textile mill. The plant manager had retired, so I took over until they could find his replacement. They eventually promoted the assistant manager, but I stayed on for a while. I love Italy and enjoy spending time there whenever I can.”

“So you’re familiar with textiles?”

“Yes. I spent many summers in the mill. I know everything there is to know about fabrics.”

Lark nodded her head. She liked what she was hearing so far. “Why didn’t you stay on at your family’s company? Sounds like that business is in your blood.”

“It is, but I’m a designer at heart. After my extended holiday, I came back to New York to continue my design career. Much like Mr. Lauren and Mr. Marc, I plan to make my own mark in this industry.”

Lark immediately flashed back to her argument with Sebastian. Although she wanted a talented designer on her team, she wasn’t about to hire another person who undervalued her talent. “Mr. Migilio, let me be clear from the start. As the creative director, I work closely with the lead designer. Although I’m the chief operating officer of Randolph on the Runway, I have a degree from FIT, and I design, as well.”

“That’s awesome,” he said, flashing his one-hundred-watt smile again. “As far as I’m concerned, the bottom line should be what designs will catapult RR ahead of the rest and make our company the best in the business.”

Our company? He’s thinking like a team player. I like that. Lark nodded her head again. “I totally agree. Can I see your portfolio?”

“Sure.” Dash reached into his leather messenger bag, retrieved a silver tablet, powered it up and handed the device to Lark.

Lark began swiping through pictures of his designs. His work was indeed impressive and unique. He had a keen eye for detail. There were pictures of women’s clothing, menswear and even accessories. The more she saw, the more she wanted to see. Dash was talented beyond belief. His work was a cross between Gianni Versace and Valentino—classy with an edge.

Lark swiped her finger across the screen once more, and this time, instead of seeing another one of his unique creations, staring back at her was a picture of Dash in aqua-blue swim trunks, lying on a beach next to a pretty blonde woman in a skimpy red bikini. Lark didn’t say a word. She stared at the picture, her eyes roaming over Dash’s manly chest and well-defined abs. Lark could feel herself heating up as she admired his half-nude body.

“So...do you like what you see?” Dash asked.

“I sure do.” Lark smiled. She swiped past his personal picture, turned off the tablet and handed it back to him. “I’d like to offer you the position of lead designer.”

“That’s great! I’m eager to start as soon as possible.”

“I like your enthusiasm. However, the offer is contingent upon a thorough background check. If your references come back positive, then the position is yours.”

“No worries there. I left on good terms with all of my former employers.”

“That’s good to hear. Angelica will take you to the human-resources department so you can fill out the necessary paperwork.”

Dash stood up. “I look forward to working with you, Ms. Randolph.”

“And I with you. Please call me Lark.”

After Angelica and Dash left the conference room, Lark went over to the window and stared out. “I hope offering him the position isn’t a mistake,” she said underneath her breath.

Lark had reservations about working with someone she was physically attracted to. She thought about calling down to HR and rescinding her offer of employment. Lark pondered the situation for a moment instead of making a rash decision. There was no denying that Dash’s talent would benefit the company, and with the new spring/summer line going into development, RR desperately needed a top designer. Besides, he was at least ten years her junior and Lark had never dated a younger man. She preferred her men to be more seasoned. And thinking back on the photo she’d seen on his tablet, he was probably in a relationship with the blonde in the picture.

Lark took a deep breath. Hiring Dash was right for the company, and with her personal life on hold for the moment, work had taken precedence once again.

Chapter 3

Dash was meeting Vance Shelton, his best friend and attorney, for a drink at the Monkey Bar, one of Manhattan’s renowned bar-restaurants. Dash had completed the preliminary paperwork at Randolph on the Runway earlier that day, but he wanted his attorney to read over the contract before he signed it.

Dash arrived first and settled in at the bar, which was full of businessmen and -women, as well as wealthy older gentlemen vying for the attention of younger beauties. Dash drank his Manhattan and eavesdropped on the conversation unfolding next to him.

A silver-haired gentleman dressed sharply in black gabardine slacks and a baby-blue tailored shirt was trying to entice a buxom redhead, wearing a skimpy hot-pink dress and matching spike heels, who was perched on the stool near him.

“So...have you ever cruised on a yacht in the Mediterranean?” the silver fox asked.

“No, but I’ve slept on several water beds here in Manhattan,” she replied, sipping her wine.

What the hell does a water bed have to do with a yacht? Dash thought as he listened.

“Well, I’ve got one of those on my yacht,” the man said, resting his hand on her bare thigh.

Dash watched as the man ran his hand up the woman’s leg and under the hem of her dress. She did not protest.

“Your glass is almost empty.” The older man motioned for the bartender and then asked him, “What is she drinking?”

“Chardonnay,” the bartender responded.

“Enough wine. Bring us a bottle of Dom.”

“Oh, champagne! I love champagne! The bubbles tickle my nose,” the woman said, giggling.

He’s going to ply her with liquor, pop a little blue pill and then show her his water bed, Dash thought, shaking his head. Women with low IQs were not his cup of tea. He liked his women to be attractive and smart, like Lark Randolph. Dash had read about Lark’s career in the industry trades over the years and had not only admired her beauty but also her accomplishments. Lark had taken her family’s company from a middle-of-the-road dress manufacturer to a leading designer of womenswear.

He sipped his cocktail and thought back to their meeting. He had found it hard to concentrate on the interview while staring into her beautiful face. Her features were picture-perfect—small hazel eyes, keen nose and pouty lips. She could easily have been a model instead of COO of a thriving fashion company. Her lips were painted a lovely shade of red that enticed him with every word she spoke. Dash’s mind had kept focusing on what he could do with those lips outside of the boardroom and in the bedroom.

In preparation for his interview, Dash had searched Lark’s name online. He had learned that after graduating from college, Lark had worked as a junior designer at Randolph on the Runway, under the tutelage of Darcy McCay, the lead designer at the time. Lark had learned every aspect of the business from the older designer. She had even gone back to school and earned an MBA from Harvard, which Dash found to be quite impressive.

Dash had had his pick of design firms with which to interview after he returned from Italy, but Randolph on the Runway had been his first choice. Lark Randolph had a stellar reputation in the industry for being an astute businesswoman and designer in her own right. He had wanted to meet her in person. Lark had said that his offer of employment was contingent upon his background check. Dash didn’t have any skeletons in his closet to worry about. It was only a matter of time before he was designing closely with the strikingly beautiful woman.

Working in his family’s textile mill during the summers of his youth, Dash had learned early on not to mix business with pleasure. He had gotten burned once, when he briefly dated one of the other employees. She had wanted a relationship, and at the time he had wanted nothing more than a quick fling.

From then on, Dash vowed to keep his personal life and business life completely separate. But being in close proximity to a knockout like Lark, keeping his vow was going to be a challenge.

As Dash waited for Vance to arrive, he took out his tablet and browsed through the portfolio he had shown Lark, in order to get a jump on design ideas for RR’s spring/summer line.

“Oh, shit!” he said underneath his breath when he saw the picture of himself and Heather lying on the beach in Italy. I’ll bet Lark saw this picture.

Heather and Dash had met in design school and had dated the last two years of college. They both had similar interests—both were talented designers and loved to travel—and they had quickly fallen in love. He’d had every intention of proposing while they were visiting his family in Italy—he’d even bought a three-carat diamond ring—but he hadn’t followed through. Unbeknownst to Heather, Dash had overheard one of her phone conversations while she was standing on the balcony in the guest room of his parents’ home overlooking a grove of lemon trees.

“No, I haven’t asked him yet... Yes...I promise I’m going to tell Dash the truth tonight. I love you, too, babe. ’Bye.”

“Tell me the truth about what?” Dash had said, walking out onto the balcony where Heather was standing.

She whipped around. “Uh...Dash...hi.”

“Who were you talking to?”

“That was Stacy.”

“Your roommate?”

“Yes.”

“Why were you calling her babe? What’s going on, Heather?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while, but Stacy isn’t just my roommate. She’s my...my...girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I know she’s your friend.”

“No...Stacy is also my lover.”

“Lover?” Dash’s eyes widened. “When...when did you turn gay?” he’d asked in total disbelief.

“I’ve always been bisexual, Dash. I...”

He cut her off. “Heather, why are you with me if you’re into women? Has this entire time we’ve been together been a lie?” Dash stood silent for a moment as the news of his girlfriend’s true sexual identity sank in.

Heather stepped closer to Dash, but he moved back. “No, it hasn’t been a lie. I love you, Dash.”

“Apparently you love Stacy, too.”

“The truth of the matter is I want to be in a relationship with both of you. Stacy and I have discussed it, and we want you to join us in a polyamorous relationship.”

“A poly...what?”

“A polyamorous relationship is a committed relationship between multiple people,” she explained.

“Look, Heather, I’m not into threesomes.”

“It’s not a freaky ménage à trois. Our relationship would be exclusive, exactly like a regular relationship, except with three people instead of two. I really think it could work. Whenever the three of us are together we always have so much fun. Remember the time we ordered in pepperoni pizza and watched that sci-fi movie from the eighties? We all laughed so hard at the bad special effects that our sides hurt. Remember?”

“Of course I remember. What does that have to do with anything? Watching a movie together is a far cry from having a relationship.”

“I was just reminding you how well we get along. To warm up to the idea, we could start out slow by going on a date with Stacy,” she had said, trying to sway him.

“I don’t think so. Sorry, but that’s not for me. Heather, you should have told me the truth about your sexuality and let me make the choice whether or not I wanted to be with someone who is bisexual. Instead, you made the choice for me.” Dash was hurt and a bit confused. Heather had never let on that she was also sleeping with a woman. Now it totally made sense why Heather and Stacy had only a one-bedroom apartment. Heather had told Dash that Stacy slept in the living room on the pullout sofa. Looking back now, he realized that was obviously a lie.

Dash didn’t have a problem with homosexuality. As far as he was concerned, whom a person slept with was their business. He just chose to sleep with one woman at a time.

“I’m sorry, Dash, for not telling you sooner.”

“So am I,” he had said with disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t let this interfere with what you and I have. I truly love you, Dash. Although I was hoping the three of us could have a relationship, I’ll be content with just you and I.”

“I don’t think so, Heather. I wouldn’t want you to resent me later. You should be able to have the type of relationship you desire.”

Heather had moved closer to Dash, and this time he didn’t shy away. They hugged for one last time.

“I wish you the best, Heather.”

After Heather’s true confession, he’d cut their vacation short. Dash had planned to take her for a gondola ride in Venice and propose, which of course had never happened. Dash hadn’t spoken to Heather since they’d returned to New York over a year ago.

“Hey, man, you look deep in thought,” Vance said, approaching his friend.

“I was thinking about Heather.”

“Instead of breaking up with her, you should have invited her roommate to join you guys in Italy. Now, that would have been a trip to remember,” Vance said, chuckling.

“I don’t like sharing my woman or my body.” Dash had grown up in a religious family with good moral values, values he’d carried over into adulthood.

“You’re a better man than I am. I for one would have enjoyed both women...together and separately.”

“I’m sure you would have.”

Growing up, Vance had always been more adventurous than Dash. Vance’s parents were extremely liberal and had allowed their children to explore and express their imagination.

As they were talking, the older gentleman and the redhead staggered out of the bar arm in arm. Vance took a seat next to Dash.

“So...congratulations on the new gig.”

“Thanks, but it’s not official yet.”

“I got your message, and I’ll be happy to look over the contract. But why are you going to work for another company when your family has a multimillion-dollar textile business in Italy? You could move there and live a life of luxury. You could have the plant manager do all the heavy lifting, so you could work a few days a week and play the rest of the time.”

“I’m not ready to kick back just yet. Don’t get me wrong—I’m grateful for the opportunities my family’s wealth has afforded me. My grandfather started that company with nothing and made it into a thriving business. I want to do the same with my designs. I don’t want to ride on the coattails of my family’s success—I want to make my own mark on the world of fashion.”

Dash was tired of people thinking all he had to offer were his good looks. He was well educated and had a natural gift for designing clothes, jewelry and even handbags.

“That’s admirable of you, man. Most people in your position would relax and enjoy the spoils.”

Dash and Vance had been best friends since high school. They had been the stars of the school’s soccer team and had remained close friends after graduating.

“Excuse me, but those two women at the end of the bar would like to buy you guys a drink,” the bartender said.

Dash peered down the bar and saw two attractive women, both dressed in tight black dresses that exposed way too much cleavage and both wearing heavy makeup. The ladies were exposing nearly all of their teeth and indelicately waving their arms.

“I’ll take a pass,” he said. Dash had spent more than enough time drinking with random women and was ready to find that special someone to settle down with.

“Come on, man. Don’t be a party pooper. They look eager and willing to please,” Vance said as he waved back to the duo.

Dash and Vance had that “wow” effect on women. They were both handsome in their own way. While Dash had olive skin and curly hair, Vance’s complexion was dark, nearly chocolate, and he wore his hair closely shaven. Whenever the two were together, women approached them as if they were rock stars.

“Vance, don’t let me stop you.” Dash went into his bag, took out a folder and handed it to his friend. “Here’s the contract.”

“I’ll look it over first thing in the morning and get back to you.”

“Thanks. I’m going to call it a night.”

“You sure?” Vance stuck the folder in his briefcase and then glanced down the bar at the two women. “They are gorgeous. Come on—just have one drink with us.”

“No, thanks, but knock yourself out. Hey, maybe you’ll have that threesome you’ve always dreamed about,” Dash said, getting up from the bar stool.

“Here’s hoping!” Vance said, making his way toward the women.

As Dash walked down Fifth Avenue on his way home, his mind drifted back to Lark. He had read about her professional life online, but all he had learned about her personal life was that she was single. There hadn’t been any mention of Lark being involved in a relationship—past or present. There hadn’t even been any pictures of her in a social setting. He smiled at the possibility of dating Lark.

Man, keep your mind on business. She’s your new boss, not your new girlfriend.

With that thought in his mind, he shifted focus and began thinking about the new and exciting clothing he was going to design for Randolph on the Runway, whether he was dating his boss or not.

Chapter 4

Dash’s background check had come back clean and Lark was eager for him to start. Not only to see what designs he was going to come up with for the new collection, but to also get another gander at the strikingly good-looking younger man. Although she had no plans of ever dating her new hire, she saw no harm in letting herself look.

Today was to be Dash’s first day. After her early workout at the gym, Lark had taken a little extra time that morning getting ready. She wore a feminine floral dress with prints of pink and orange blossoms that she’d designed herself. A thin green belt cinched her slim waist and her bob-length hair, left loose, framed her face perfectly. She finished the look with a pair of mint-green, pointy pumps. Lark’s lips were stained with her signature blood-orange glossy lipstick, and she wore a hint of perfume.

Lark was sitting at her drawing table in her large corner office, working on a sketch for the new spring/summer collection. She had come into the office early to get a jump on the designs before her duties as COO took over her day. Lark was busy putting the finishing touches on a drawing when she heard someone knock. She looked up and smiled slightly.

“Good morning. You’re here early,” she said.

“I have some ideas in my head that I want to get down on paper. You’re here early, too. You must have had the same thought,” Dash said from the doorway.

Lark took in his physique as he stood there looking like a modern-day Adonis. He wore a baby-blue skinny-leg suit that fit his body to perfection with a crisp, stark white shirt and a pink tie. His look was professional, with an artsy edge. Lark had always prided herself on her style of dress, but now with Dash on her team, she would have to step up her game.

“Yes. I’ve already started sketching for the new line.”

“Let me see what you’re working on,” he said, walking over to her drawing table.

Dash was standing so close to Lark that she could smell his cologne. She took a soft whiff and inhaled base notes of bergamot, jasmine and vanilla.

He smells good enough to eat, she thought.

“I like the leg of the pant. It fits the ankle nicely. But what about dropping the crotch half an inch? Do you mind?” Dash asked, picking a pencil up from the drawing table.

“Go for it.” Lark moved back so he could have easier access to the sketchbook. As he drew, Lark stared at his strong hands and imagined his long, lean fingers caressing her skin.

Dash made the quick adjustment to the drawing. “What do you think?”

Lark peered down at what he had done and nodded her head. “Wow, moving the crotch down a bit makes a huge difference. Now the pants have more movement.”

“I’m going to like working here. We’re going to make an awesome team,” he said.

Lark looked up into his face and found herself mesmerized by his bright smile. A few seconds passed before she glanced away. Lark was determined to keep her mind on business and not get lost in the younger man’s charm.

“Did you bring the contract?” she asked.

Dash opened his messenger bag and took out a folder. “Here you go, signed and delivered.”

Lark took the folder and placed it on the drawing table. “Did you have an attorney look over the contract so you know what you’re signing up for?” Lark didn’t want a replay of what she had experienced with Sebastian.

“Yes, I did, and he pointed out the proprietary clause.”

“You do understand that everything you design for Randolph on the Runway is the property of the company?”

“Of course.”

“And you don’t have a problem with that?” she asked.

“No, not at all. My creativity is endless, and while I’m here, I plan to give you a hundred and ten percent.”

“Great. That’s what I want to hear. Now let me give you the dime tour and show you to your office.”

Employees had started to arrive and settle in as Lark and Dash made their way across the opposite end of the floor. The loft offices of Randolph on the Runway had been redesigned by Lark, who had worked closely with an architect to create an inviting environment. The former outdated space had been dark and cramped. The renovated offices were now hip and chic, with cream leather seating and sleek teak furniture. There was colorful abstract artwork on the exposed-brick walls. The interior offices, framed in floor-to-ceiling plate glass, were visible from the corridors, giving the entire space an open and airy feel.