Page 8 of Wedding Season
“Have a nice weekend.” She waved then disappeared as he turned his attention back to his computer.
A knock at the door had him lifting his head.
“You know that hanging around the office doesn’t count as a nice weekend?”
“I’m trying to impress the boss,” he said, one side of his mouth quirking, as Luann Bowman entered his office.
The sixtysomething founder of the Fit Collective chuckled, her voice low and throaty. “We’re partners, Alex. Equals and you well know it. In fact, you’re the CEO. You have the power. You could push me out if you wanted to.”
Her gray hair was pulled back into a low knot and she wore what Alex had come to think of as her uniform—Fit Collective leggings and a drapey blouse. She looked every inch the aging supermodel she was, although her delicate beauty masked a randy sense of humor and will of steel.
“If you really wanted to impress me, you’d take off your shirt, but I can’t say that even as a joke.”
Alex gripped his skull with both hands and tried to resist the urge to pull out his hair. “Luann, you just said it.”
She shrugged. “Yeah but it’s only you and me here. You don’t count.”
“I do count. I’m an employee.”
“You’re the CEO. I handpicked you myself. Don’t tell me I’m offending your delicate sensibilities. Remember, I’ve known both your father and stepfather for years, Alex. I know the things I say can’t be the most shocking you’ve ever heard.”
“That might be true, but it’s not the point. We are putting together a new company and leaving behind your former mistakes. We can’t take another scandal. You’ve got to rein in your comments.”
She rolled her eyes. “With the way my hormones have fallen off the face of the earth, I don’t care about seeing any man-chest. Although I’m sure yours is worthy.”
“Luann,” he all but shouted.
“I know.” She held up her hands as she walked forward and then plopped into the chair in front of his desk. “I’ll control myself. I have been controlling myself. It’s just you and me right now.”
“You can’t say those things to me. Do you understand what’s at stake?”
Her kohl-lined eyes narrowed. “Trust me, Alex. I am well aware of what’s at stake. As well as how much I’ve already lost. I like you. I like your ideas for the company. Our company. Maybe I’m still bitter about losing control of what I built.”
He knew her heart was in the right place, and he wanted to feel sympathetic and supportive. Luann had been at the forefront of turning basic workout gear into something fashionable. She’d started her first company fifteen years earlier after a painful divorce from her fashion designer husband when she was trying to reinvent herself as well as support her daughter.
Her talent for creating styles that made women feel beautiful every day while taking care of business or working out had propelled her company to the forefront of the growing casual fashion market. But two years ago she’d nearly lost everything after a series of cringeworthy and inappropriate social media comments coupled with interviews where she trashed the women who made up the bulk of her clientele. Her company had recently gone public and the board had voted her out unanimously.
But she’d still had a majority percentage of ownership in the company so had remained on staff in a consulting capacity. The board had hired a series of people to step in and run things but no one had been able to overcome the bad press, and other companies had caught up to their niche market, eating away at their brand dominance. They’d eventually pushed her out of the business she’d created.
Alex had run into Luann about eight months after his wedding day fiasco in a bar in midtown Manhattan. It just so happened that he’d been working with an engineering friend from his days at Wharton to start a company with the other man’s design for a new type of workout fabric. One that was lightweight, breathable and also remarkably forgiving and flattering for all body types. He’d mentioned it to Luann and her eyes had lit with possibility.
She might have an unfortunate inability to hold her tongue, but she also truly had a passion for making quality clothes. They’d talked long into the night and she’d convinced him that she realized how damaging her previous comments had been and how much it meant to her to prove to her client base that she appreciated them in all their various shapes and sizes. Together with his engineering friend, they’d decided to launch the Fit Collective.
It had been Alex’s idea to headquarter the company in Magnolia. After visiting the town for a friend’s wedding he’d become convinced that the move to a small town would attract the kind of employees they needed to build a company with the positive and affirming culture he envisioned. He also thought it was important to get Luann out of the city where her past was always lurking. To say nothing of his own.
He knew it was a risk to partner with her. He’d invested everything he had into this company—time, money and his reputation. She was a creative genius, but despite the fact that he believed she deserved another chance, he wasn’t going to let her ruin this for him before it even really started.
“You know the deal,” he reminded her. “If there’s even a whiff of inappropriate behavior, you’re out of this partnership.”
Her glossy mouth turned into a pout. “You can’t do it without me.”
“I’ll find a way if I have to.” If the past few years had taught him anything, it was that he would manage to move forward no matter what obstacles life threw at him.
CHAPTER THREE
MARIELLAWASINthe storeroom of A Second Chance the following week when the insistent knocking started. She ignored it, but whoever was at the shop’s front door wasn’t going to be deterred.
She glanced at her watch as she made her way to the front of the darkened store. It was 9:00 a.m. so she still had an hour until her official opening for the day and couldn’t imagine someone in such desperate need of any of the items she carried in her retail boutique.
