“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.
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