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Scoring Destiny

Page 67

by Kat Mizera

Not that any of this is my fault but I know the past still haunts him. Seeing Shandy will bring all that trauma right back to the surface, and that’s the last thing we need. Things are good, but Serena’s right that he holds back emotionally. I’m not looking for declarations of love at this stage, but I still get the feeling he has one figurative foot out the door.

I just hope that the future we’re building is strong enough to withstand a confrontation with his past.

* * *

The next couple of weeks fly by. Cash has two short road trips, and I take a quick trip to New York during one of them to check in on the Broadway production that’s still going, as well as to see some friends. I’ve been so immersed in my life in Atlanta, it’s almost like I’ve already left New York.

I’ve lived here since I was eighteen. I attended NYU, graduated, and decided to stay. It’s not like I had anything to go home to. Reid was gone and our parents checked out a long time ago. This became my home because it was a great place to start my post-college career.

But these days I’m feeling a different pull.

Being close to Reid is nice.

Already having friends in the area makes the transition easier.

I’m fairly certain I can find tons of work, even if I have to commute to New York and/or L.A., depending on the project.

And then there’s Cash.

I’m doing my level best not to fall for him but it’s probably too late. I love the time we spend together and I’ve found it kind of nice that our careers force us to spend time apart. Missing each other makes it that much better when we get together, and our sex life is off the charts.

He’s also opening up a little more every day.

I don’t mind that he’s introverted, somewhat quiet. It’s actually a turn on, being with a guy who doesn’t mind when I chatter about things that excite me. He’s the proverbial strong, silent type. Exactly the kind of guy I like. He lets me be me, without comment or judgment, and he’s the first guy who hasn’t tried to change me. To make me talk less, or have less colorful hair, or to stop being so independent. There’s always something.

Initially, I worried that my career would be a bone of contention between us because of his past, but he’s been nothing but supportive. In fact, he told me he’d be my first customer once I got the initial order of nightgowns in—he’s going to send them to his mother and sister since they both like to read.

Jayne, Serena, Allora, and Lacy all want one for themselves, and Allora said she would buy a few for friends too. Even a few of the guys on the crew said they would buy them for their significant others, so if everyone I’ve spoken to personally buys some, I’m already up to more than twenty-five sales. We were planning to order fifty but then upped it to one hundred and now I’m thinking closer to two hundred.

It’s a nice feeling that my idea is taking root, and I can’t wait to see them in person.

That’s one of the reasons I came to New York, though. There’s a well-known designer named Alexa Humboldt and Allora got me a meeting with her. She agreed to give me her honest opinion and I’m both nervous and excited. I know it will hurt if she hates them but if she gives me constructive criticism, that will just make the next round of designs that much better.

She’s already at the table when I walk into the diner on the upper east side where we agreed to meet. She’s wearing all black and has huge tortoise shell glasses that make her look more like a librarian than one of the top fashion designers in the world.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Allora and Lacy have been singing your praises,” she says with a smile. “And I did a little digging—your designs for Souls of the Realm were absolutely out of this world. No wonder you won the Oscar.”

I flush with pride because she’s one of my idols so it’s high praise coming from her.

“Thank you.”

“And now you want to get into designing for the general public. You know it’s going to be a thankless job, right?”

I chuckle. “I think anything in entertainment is.”

We chat for a few minutes as the waitress takes our orders. Then puts her hands on the table.

“Let me see your designs and we can get the hard part out of the way.” She pauses. “You understand that I’m going to be painfully honest?”

I nod. “I do. I’m prepared.”

She chuckles. “No one is ever fully prepared for criticism.”

“I can take criticism. It’s a little harder when someone is mean.”

“I’ll never be mean—there’s no point in that.”