Page 41 of Crash and Burn
He tipped his head back and laughed in delight.
"That would be quite the elaborate prank, hm?" he said with a chuckle.
I relaxed into my chair, tense shoulders easing. I wasn't getting creepy vibes from this guy at all. He seemed perfectly pleasant and down to earth.
That was, until he pinned me down with a stare.
"Can you guess why I wanted to meet with you?" he asked.
"Because you liked my dress?" I answered tentatively.
"There's much more to it than that." His lips pursed into a frown as he steepled his fingers together into a single point. "I've been trying to design a new line. Something more accessible, less runway. Something for the mid-twenties professional yet fashionable young woman."
"Something to compete with Diana Six?" I guessed.
"You're astute," he remarked. "Yes. That's exactly what I'm looking to do. Corporate offices are loosening their dress codes. Business attire no longer needs to be a pantsuit or a pencil skirt and blazer. There's a gap in the market, my dear, and I intend to fill it with my designs." His eyes gleamed. "What do you think?"
"I think that's a smart business move," I said.
"It is," he agreed. "But that's not what I'm asking you." He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. "What do you think about working with me?"
"Working… with you?" My mouth gaped open.
"Consider it an internship of sorts." A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
I'd considered the idea that Carling might want to see more of my designs, that he might want to work with me in some way.
But collaborating together on an entirely new line, a line intended to compete with the fashion icon that was Diana Six?
I nearly choked on my own spit.
My lungs burned with the effort it took not to cough, my eyes bugging out. I caught Carling suppressing a smile.
When I could finally speak, I croaked out a single question: "Why me?"
"You're original," he said simply. "Talented and unique. You've got a gift, and I'll be damned if I let somebody else snatch you up first."
I clenched the fabric of my skirt in my fists, trying to keep them from trembling.
This was crazy. Absurd.Me, working with someone likehim?
My parent's faces floated across my mind.
Would they be proud of me for getting an opportunity like this? Or would they chide me about my unpractical, pie-in-the-sky thinking?
"So?" Carling asked again, a slow smile crossing his face. "What do you say?"
I took a breath.
What do I say to an internship with Farrow and Paige?
I nodded.
"I'm in," I said. "What do you need me to do?"
14
Ipractically skipped into work for a second time, my heels clicking against the pavement and my skirt swishing around my knees. I wasn't quite whistling but I did hum a jaunty tune. I wanted to sing my happiness from the rooftops.
