Page 3 of One-of-a-Kind Bride

“And you deserve to have your new line of bridal gowns approved. Your talent needs to be recognized.”

One could only hope. She’d gone to design college for four years, studied in Italy for two summers and had worked in retail bridal shops until she’d landed this job. Her first line of bridal gowns had made a decent showing, but that was when Eric Banning Junior, the son of the owner, had been her boss. He’d loved her edgy designs. Now, Eric Senior was at the helm again and he’d told her to do what she did best. And she had. She’d developed a new line of gowns, putting her heart and soul in her work. Now, all her eggs were in one basket. And she hoped it was enough.

“Thanks for your support,” she told Mel.

Mel nodded. “Hey, why don’t you have a seat and drink your coffee. I’ll package all this up for you. Maybe you’ll get your appetite back when the execs gush all over your designs.” Mel gave her a friendly wink, and Taylor smiled.

“Sounds good, Mel.”

She sat at a café table finishing off her coffee and glanced at the clock. She had half an hour until her meeting. The butterflies in her stomach took flight again. She squeezed her eyes closed and her mama’s image flashed in her mind. Tall and pretty, with a quirky sense of humor and a gift of always saying the right thing, her mama’s wise words were always close, always a part of her. “Go after your dreams, Taylor. If you want to design gowns, then do it and be happy in your decision.”

And she’d vowed to her mama she would. “I’ll be successful, Mama. I promise you.”

Her mother had smiled then. Because she knew Taylor never broke her promises.

*

Taylor stepped intothe conference room at precisely nine a.m. and held her breath as she stared into Mr. Banning’s unreadable eyes. He stood up as she walked in, a lost art for many men, but Banning Senior, as they called him at the office, was always a gentleman.

“Good morning, Taylor. Have a seat.”

She hesitated a second, scanning the empty room. Where were all the associates? Were they running late? She took a seat adjacent to the boss at the long conference table. She gulped quietly. It was daunting seeing her beloved designs displayed on the overhead screen. She was proud of her work, had spent months and months on these designs, trying to come up with something unique and true to her own vision, while also keeping with the Boutique Bridal brand.

“How are you this morning, Taylor?” he asked.

“I’m fine. A bit nervous.”

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Thank you, but I’ve already had a cup.” Melanie’s coffee was churning in her stomach now.

Something was off, way off.

“Well then, let’s get right to the point. Your work is very well done. You have talent, Miss Preston, and we’ve enjoyed having you as part of our team, but—”

There was always abutand she was afraid this one would change her life, no…it would destroy her life.

She mustered up the courage to ask, “But?”

“I’m sorry to say, it’s not for us, Taylor. The work is, well, too unconventional for our brand. We have to meet client expectations, and though your designs are valuable and well done, they don’t scream Boutique Bridal. In fact, just the opposite. We were looking for something…”

“Unique, was what I was told. The line should reflect something a bit different. That’s what I brought you.”

“Ah, yes. I can see how you might think that. But I’m afraid we’ve decided to take a more traditional route. We like soft curves and detailed lines and what you’ve given us here are sharp points and jagged edges.”

“I can make adjustments to the line if—”

“I don’t think so, Taylor. We’ve already given you two chances at this. And I don’t want to stifle your creative talent.”

“But Eric Junior liked the first line I presented and the sales were good.”

“Yes, that’s true. But my son took some liberties with our brand and I had to return to the company get us back on track. I’m afraid your creative input is not part of the equation.”

“So, you’re…firing me?” The words trailed off, her heart totally shattered.

“We’re letting you go, to pursue your talent elsewhere.” He rose from his seat. “Take as much time as you need to get your things in order. It was a pleasure having you at Boutique and I wish you the best of luck. Goodbye, Taylor.” He put out his hand and gave her a look that saidno hard feelings.

Only she had them. In a major way. Her feelings were hurt. She hadn’t given him jagged edges or sharp points. She’d given him contemporary style, designs that appealed to the current day bride.

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