Season for Love

“This is our kitchen. The refrigerator is stocked with water, sandwiches, salads and healthy snacks. There’s a single-cup coffee machine, which also makes tea. This drawer,” she said, pulling out a drawer to her left, “is filled with take-out menus from nearby restaurants.”

“That’s good to know. Sometimes when I’m working, I don’t want to interrupt my flow by going out to lunch.”

“I know what you mean. Sometimes when I’m on a roll I can work straight through lunch. Come on—let me show you the rest of the space.”

Lark led the way out of the small kitchen and continued down the hall. She stopped in front of a closed door, opened it, stepped inside and turned on the lights. “This is the showroom.”

“I love the exposed-brick walls and vaulted ceiling.”

“Thank you. I had the entire space redesigned. I wanted a loft-type atmosphere. This is where we keep our collections, meet with buyers and fit models for upcoming shows.”

Dash went over to a rack of clothing and browsed through the items. He pulled out a dress. “This gown reminds me of the dresses they wore in the forties. The rose taffeta material looks authentic. What happened to the seams?” he asked, holding the ripped gown.

“It’s a long story that I’d rather not retell. But I’m glad you like the dress. It’s one of my designs.” Lark was pleased that Dash had commented on the gown. She knew her instincts about the dress had been right all along and it felt good to be validated by the young designer.

“You’re quite talented.”

Lark felt herself blushing as if she were the new hire and he were her boss. “Thank you. Let me show you to your office before my morning meeting.” She turned off the lights and walked out with Dash following closely behind.

“This is your office,” Lark said, entering a well-appointed room. The space was almost identical to Lark’s, but smaller, with a teak desk, drawing table and sitting area. “The junior designers who’ll be working under your supervision sit out here,” she said, stepping back through the doorway and gesturing toward four cubicles.

As she was talking, a short, shapely brunette dressed in cargo pants and a T-shirt and wearing shades approached them. “Good morning, Ms. Randolph.”

“Hi, Jessica. Let me introduce you to Dash Migilio, our new lead designer. You’ll be reporting directly to him as stated in the email that Angelica sent out.”

Jessica lifted her sunglasses and stared at Dash. “I’m really going to love coming to work now,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Lark asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Jessica moved closer to Dash and extended her hand. “So very nice to meet you, Dash. Or should I call you Mr. Migilio?” she said, batting her eyes.

“Nice to meet you, too, Jessica. Dash is fine.”

“You sure are,” Jessica said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Lark gave Jessica a disapproving look. “Jessica, if you’re going to have a problem working with the new lead designer, I’ll be happy to move you over to Aisha’s team,” Lark said sternly.

“No need, Ms. Randolph. I won’t have a problem working with Mr. Migilio,” Jessica said, changing her tune.

“Jessica, when you get a chance, let me see what you’ve been working on,” Dash said.

“Sure,” Jessica responded. She made her way to her cubicle, but not before turning around and giving Dash another appraising once-over.

Jessica’s lustful glance didn’t go unnoticed by Lark. She was going to admonish the young designer, but Lark really couldn’t blame Jessica for staring at Dash. He was without a doubt worthy of a second and even a third look.

Once Jessica was out of earshot, Lark turned to Dash and said, “I like the way you handled that.”

“What?” he asked.

“The way you ignored Jessica’s not-so-subtle innuendos. You acted as if she weren’t drooling all over you.”

“Lark, I’m a professional. I don’t mix business with pleasure. My personal life is just that...personal.”

“Good to hear, because I think she’s developing a crush on you. I can move her over to the other team if need be.”

“Trust me. I can handle Jessica and any other employee who tries to make an inappropriate advance.”

Does that include me? Lark wanted to say, but of course she didn’t. She knew she had to stop thinking of Dash in a lustful way. He had been hired to do a job, and unfortunately, that job didn’t include seducing the boss.

Chapter 5

Lark was meeting her best friend, Darcy McCay, at a day spa in Union Square for an afternoon of relaxation and pampering. Lark and Darcy’s relationship had started off a bit rough when they’d first met at Randolph on the Runway. Lark had moved up from the drafting department, where she had worked for six months learning the art of pattern design. Lark’s grandfather felt she had spent enough time in that part of the company and had promoted her to the ready-to-wear division to study under Darcy, a senior designer. Darcy was a few years older than Lark and was eager to teach the ingenue, but Lark proved to be quite a challenge. Instead of soaking up the information Darcy was dispensing, Lark had her own opinions about how the line should be designed.

“Instead of putting the split in the back, why don’t we place it off center?” Lark had said.

“No, I like the split right where it is,” Darcy had replied.

“Most designers place the split in the back. Don’t you want to stand out?”

Darcy had looked up from her sketchbook. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t you want to make your mark on the industry?”

“I have made my mark. The inside-out jumpsuit I designed won the Council of Fashion Designers Award a few years ago.” Darcy’s voice had been filled with pride.

“I remember seeing that jumpsuit in the trades. It was so unique and different. I had no idea you won a CFDA. Congratulations. But I still believe the split should be moved.”

“I realize this is your family’s company, but I’m currently your boss, and the final decision is mine. Your grandfather sent you to my division so I could take you under my wing. Please do us both a favor and learn what I’m trying to teach you.”

From that day on, Lark did more listening than talking, and as a result she gained a wealth of knowledge from the senior designer, not only about the business of fashion, but about life. Lark had always been mature for her age. She hadn’t gone out binge drinking like most of her college classmates had. She’d preferred hanging out with Darcy whenever she had spare time. They would dine at four-star restaurants, go to fashion industry events and relax at Darcy’s summer home in the Hamptons. Darcy would school Lark on nuances of men, teaching her to not act eager and desperate when a man was interested. Darcy had told Lark that men were hunters, and that they liked the art of the chase. Lark was an only child, and she thought of Darcy as an older sister and willingly took her advice.

Darcy eventually left Randolph on the Runway to start her own design firm, but she and Lark had remained close.

Lark arrived first. She had never been to the trendy spa and glanced around at the zebra rugs and modern decor.

“Welcome to Brigitte Mansfield European Day Spa,” the receptionist said.

Before Lark could respond, Darcy rushed into the spa. “Sorry I’m late...” Darcy said. She was tall and thin as a reed. She had bronze skin and long, honey-blond hair. Before becoming a designer, Darcy had been a teen model. She was dressed in a sleek, cream-colored sheath and gold gladiator sandals.

Lark hugged her friend. “Hi there.”

Darcy air-kissed Lark. “How are you, sweetie?”

“Good. Just a bit stressed.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here. I promise you, after our spa day, we’ll feel as good as new. The masseuses here have magic fingers.”

“Right this way, ladies,” the receptionist said, leading them toward the back.

After Lark and Darcy had changed into terry-cloth robes, they were shown to a private area where they each had the spa’s signature facial.

“Hmm, this mask smells delectable,” Lark commented.

“That’s because it’s made with cranberries, truffle oil and almonds. I get this facial on a regular basis. This mask really helps to ward away those unsightly frown lines.”

Once their faces had been treated with tender loving care, they went into another room to get massages. They lay facedown on the table and let the masseuses work their magic. Lark closed her eyes and let her mind drift as the tension in her shoulders was kneaded away. The masseuse’s hands gliding over her skin felt wonderful. Suddenly, Lark’s thoughts shifted to Dash.

I wonder if he gives good massages.

Lark could picture Dash naked, drizzling oil on her skin, straddling her backside and rubbing his masculine hands up and down her back, caressing her tired muscles. After he had finished with her backside, she would turn over and let him smear the oil all over her breasts. She smiled at the thought of Dash taking her nipples between his fingers and rubbing them until they hardened. He would then admire her beckoning breasts, lean down and ever so gently lick and suck her nipples. Lark imagined Dash getting so turned on by her that his manhood would grow inch by inch until he was swollen with desire. He would then rub the head of his penis against the inside of her thigh and work his way up to her G-spot. Before slipping on a condom, Dash would tease her clit with his manhood until she was on the verge of coming. Lark’s face would twist with pleasure and then she would cry out the words Make love to me! They would take turns pleasing each other all night, until the bottle of massage oil was empty and their bodies were spent from hours of making love. Only then would they drift off into a well-earned slumber.

“Didn’t I tell you the masseuses here are amazing,” Darcy said, interrupting Lark’s naughty little daydream.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Were you asleep? I don’t blame you. This massage will definitely lull you into total relaxation.”

“Yes, among other things...”

After a few hours of being pampered like queens, Lark and Darcy left the spa feeling like a million bucks. They headed over to a Brazilian restaurant that had legendarily fresh cuisine and potent caipirinhas.

“Word on the street is that Sebastian quit RR and has started his own design firm. I understand he’s ramping up production to debut his line at the spring/summer show,” Darcy said once they were seated.

“Really? Is that so?”

“Yes, it’s all over the fashion blogs. He’s really ramping up a word-of-mouth buzz about his new collection.”

“Sebastian might talk a good game. However, I seriously doubt his line will be ready in time for the spring/summer show. And anyway, he’s lying about quitting RR. He didn’t leave on his own will. I fired him.”

“Oh, that’s news to me. Why did you let him go? When I interviewed Sebastian as my replacement, I thought he was a good fit for Randolph on the Runway.”

“He was, until he started getting arrogant and out of control. I hadn’t planned on letting him go, but he had no respect for me as his boss,” Lark told her and then recounted the story of how Sebastian nearly destroyed one of her designs.

“Oh, a bit like you were when you first started working with me, minus ripping one of the pieces,” Darcy said with a chuckle.

“Was I that bad?” Lark asked, sounding ashamed.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. After you checked your attitude at the door, we got along perfectly.”

As they were talking the waiter came over. “Are you ready to order, ladies?”

“I’ll have the coconut shrimp with the mango salsa,” Lark responded.

“What’s better—the roasted chicken with plantains or the beer-battered fish?” Darcy asked.

“They’re both yummy. Personally, I prefer the beer-battered fish,” the waiter responded.

“Okay, fish it is.”

After the waiter left the table, Lark continued.

“Thanks again for having patience with me, Darcy. You really taught me a lot.”

“You were a quick study. Have you hired another lead designer?”

Lark’s mouth formed into a slight smile. “I have. His name is Dash Migilio.”

“What’s that smirk for?” Darcy asked, noticing the expression on her friend’s face.

“Just thinking about him makes me smile. Not only is Dash talented, but he’s gorgeous. He’s Italian-American with a handsome face and killer body. You should see the way his suits fit—it’s as if they were sculpted to his body. And he’s extremely talented.”

“Sounds like you have a major crush.”

Lark thought for a moment. “I guess I do. But of course I haven’t let on that my heart beats a little faster when I’m around him. See, that’s another thing you taught me—to act cool and collected around attractive men.”

“It might be hard to maintain control sometimes, but the more aloof you act, the more they’ll want you. Good-looking guys aren’t used to women ignoring them. They’re accustomed to ladies throwing themselves at their feet. Is he married?”

“No, but I think he has a girlfriend. I saw a picture on his tablet of him and a beautiful blonde cozied up on a beach. They seemed really happy.”

“Well, that’s probably for the best. A relationship with a coworker can be a slippery slope. When the relationship is going good, work can be heaven, but after the breakup...and there’s usually a breakup, coming to work can seem like a nightmare. Trust me, I know. I’ve had my share of work relationships gone awry.”

“You’re right, and that’s why I’m keeping my feelings to myself. Dash will never know how I feel. Besides, its just a little crush, which will soon fade away.”

Although Lark spoke the words, she had an inkling that her feelings for the young designer were more than a crush. A part of Lark was glad that Dash wasn’t available; she needed to stay focused on developing the new collection. However, another part of her wanted nothing more than to make her daydream of making love to Dash a reality.

Chapter 6

Dash had settled into his new position as lead designer with full confidence and had taken charge of his team as if he had been with the company for years. Within a few days of starting, he had met with his team of four to present his vision for the new collection. He then reviewed their work individually and quickly assessed their strengths and weaknesses. Jessica had the most talent out of all her counterparts. Her designs were cutting-edge and out of the box. Dash had been reluctant to shower her with too much praise. He didn’t want Jessica to get the wrong idea. Dash had no romantic interest in the younger designer.

Although he was still in his twenties, Dash was mature beyond his years and a seasoned businessman. Having spent many summers working in his family’s textile mill, and learning every aspect of the business, Dash knew how to manage employees effectively. He could also design unique fabrics, clothing and accessories.

Late in the day, Dash sat in his office at the drawing table. He had attached his phone to mini speakers and the soft sounds of Michael Franks flooded his office. Dash was working on a leisure suit for the new line. He was in a zone, wielding a pencil and sketching feverishly. His shirt’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing dark hair on his forearms.

“Excuse me,” Jessica said, standing in the doorway.

Dash swiveled around on the padded stool. “Hey, Jessica, what’s up?”

“Some of us are going out for drinks after work to celebrate Aisha’s birthday. You wanna come?”

“No, thanks. I’m on a roll designing a piece for the new collection and will be working late tonight.”

“Oh, okay. Well...if you want, I can skip the party and stick around in case you need any help.”

Dash gave Jessica an appraising look. She had on a sexy black dress that hugged her ample breasts and full hips. Dash noticed she had been coming to work lately wearing provocative clothing, no doubt trying to seduce him. It wasn’t working. Jessica was attractive, but Dash had no interest in pursuing her on a personal basis. To him, she was just another employee, no matter how sexily she dressed.

Dash watched as Jessica’s gaze traveled down to his crotch area. He closed his legs, ending her peep show. “No, that won’t be necessary. Go out and have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I’ll try. Are you sure you don’t need me?”

“Positive.”

“Good night, Dash.”

“Good night.”

Once Jessica was gone, Dash turned his attention back to the sketch pad in front of him. He rendered three different versions of the suit within two hours. He wanted to give Lark a variety to choose from. One suit had slim pencil-leg pants with a long blazer, the second suit had cropped pants with a waist jacket and the third had full palazzo pants with a bolero jacket. By the time he’d finished working, it was well after hours and most of the employees had gone for the day.

Dash stood and stretched. He had been sitting so long that his limbs had grown stiff. He hadn’t eaten since lunch and his stomach was beginning to growl with hunger pains. He tucked the pencil behind his ear, left his office and headed down the hall to the company canteen. The automatic lights flickered on as he stepped inside. The small kitchen was well-appointed, with black marble countertops, stainless-steel appliances, a gourmet coffee machine, a high-powered juicer and small café-type tables and chairs.

One of the things Dash loved about working at Randolph on the Runway—aside from seeing Lark daily—was the fully stocked kitchen. He took a knife-and-fork packet out of one of the drawers, opened the fridge, reached for a prepackaged Cobb salad and a bottle of water and sat at one of the small tables. He opened the lid on the container, ripped the cellophane from the plastic utensils and began chowing down.

“I see I’m not the only one burning the midnight oil,” Lark commented, coming into the room.

Dash stopped chewing midbite and eyed Lark. She had been in meetings the entire day and he hadn’t seen her since yesterday. Dash admired her outfit. She wore a tailored navy-and-white-striped shirtdress with a beige belt clenching her waist and a pair of pointy beige sling-back pumps. Her hair was tucked behind her ears and her lips were stained with reddish-orange lipstick.

I wonder if her lips taste as good as they look was the first thing that popped into his mind. Dash exhaled and said, “I just finished sketching three variations of a suit for the new line. I was on a roll and didn’t want to break the momentum by stopping to eat.”

“I know what you mean. It’s hard to stop when the ideas are flowing.”

Lark went over to the coffeemaker, popped a tiny pod of hazelnut-flavored coffee in the machine, put her mug underneath the spout and waited for the liquid to brew. Once the steaming hot coffee filled her cup, she went over to where Dash was sitting and took a seat beside him.

“I’d love to see what you’re working on. I’ve also sketched a couple of dresses that I want to include in the collection.”

“I’ll show you my sketches if you show me yours,” Dash said with a flirtatious smile.

“Deal... So how’s your first week going? I’ve been meaning to stop by your office all week, but I’ve been putting out fires left and right.”

Dash studied her face as she spoke. He noticed a frown line creasing her brow. “Is there anything I can help with?”

She took a sip of coffee and then said, “Not really.”

“You seem stressed. What’s the matter?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“One of my suppliers is going out of business. I just got the word this morning. I’ve worked with this company for years and love their craftsmanship. I’ve spent all day on the phone trying to find a replacement, but none of the companies I’ve talked with so far can deliver the goods in time for production of the new line.”

“What type of supplier are you looking for?”

“A textile mill, but not just any factory. I need one capable of producing a custom line of silk fabrics. I’ve designed new patterns that will help us stand out from the rest.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.