Sloan stepped closer to Ziara as they followed. “Just relax and follow my lead,” he murmured from the corner of his mouth.
After listening to Robert expound on the sketches for over half an hour, Sloan was definitely unimpressed. Just as he imagined their buyer had been.
When Robert finally wound down, Sloan’s voice filled the stillness. “Did you listen to anything that buyer said?”
The men stiffened, but there wasn’t anything they could say in their own defense.
Sloan pushed forward. “She said the designs were stale. She said the dresses were old-fashioned. Not classic. Not retro. Those are buzz words. Compliments. Stale is not.” He gestured toward the stack of drawings. “Nothing has changed here. Nothing. I can find this same thing in any bridal magazine—from ten years ago.”
“How would you know what the buyer said?” Anthony asked, his voice sounding weak after the booming quality of Robert’s.
“And who do you think you are, to come in here and criticize our work?” Robert added.
“I am now the creative director of Eternity Designs’s fall line. From here on out, all decisions from this department must be approved solely by me.”
The silence was so absolute it rang loud in his ears. Robert’s face gradually turned a shade of purple and Anthony’s eyes flicked back and forth between the other people in the room as if he expected someone to tell him what was really going on here.
Finally Robert spoke, his voice coming from deep in his barreled chest. “Ziara, if this is a joke, it isn’t funny.”
“He isn’t kidding, Robert,” she said in her most soothing voice.
“Look,” Sloan said, impatient with the theatrics. “We have a lot to do and a very short time to do it in. Whether you were informed of this decision previously is not my problem. Getting Eternity Designs back on track is—and I’ll be doing it my way.”
“Why would we need—”
“Are you truly going to pretend you don’t know why I’m here?” Sloan met Robert’s blustery gaze directly. “You may not pay much attention to financial statements while you’re down here in fantasyland, but I know for a fact you were present when the Bridal Boutique buyer ripped your designs apart. Would you like me to go into more detail, or do you remember it for yourself?”
Anthony again joined the conversation. “No, we remember it well enough.”
“Good. I am here to get Eternity back in the black and at the forefront of the wedding apparel industry. So for the next three months you will answer to me—and only me.”
“We won’t do it,” Robert insisted. “After thirty years as a designer, I refuse to have my ideas approved by an amateur.”
“Then I’ll bring in someone who will.”
Harsh. But he knew from his own history that sometimes the hardest lessons were the most memorable...if you used them to your advantage. Just like he’d turned his father’s rejection into professional success.
Moving swiftly across the space, Sloan lifted the entire stack of drawings and dumped them into a nearby trash can. “Start over.”
Ziara and Anthony gasped at the same time. But it was Robert he continued to focus on, the leader of this little group. Bring him to heel and the rest would follow.
Robert sputtered his indignation while Anthony’s face crumpled as if he was going to cry. How in the world could he get through to these yahoos?
Sloan didn’t anticipate Ziara’s sudden tight grip on his arm. She pulled him out of hearing range and turned to face him.
“Do you really think this is the way to gain their cooperation?”
He tried to focus on her words, but his own frustration quickly morphed into desire as she moved close enough for them to hear each other without eavesdroppers. All that solid, testosterone-induced drive melted into liquid desire that pounded in his veins with a thrumming rhythm. Lord have mercy, how had this woman gotten under his skin so quickly?
“I don’t need their cooperation. If they don’t do what I tell them, they’re out of here.”
A repressive frown marred those full lips. “Robert and Anthony have always been the stars of Eternity Designs. You should treat them with more respect.”
How could those lips, pressed tight like a disapproving schoolmarm’s, still come across as sexy? He was actually struggling to follow her words. Him. The king of keeping things professional.
“Don’t you see, Ziara, that’s the problem,” he finally managed. “They’ve had people kissing their asses for years, with no challenges to their work. They think they can give a minimal effort and still be put on a pedestal. And Eternity suffers for it.”
“They do work—”
He could almost kiss her for the concern in the dark depths of her eyes but it was misplaced. “Not enough. Where’s the market research, the fresh, new ideas? They don’t just happen by playing around all day. Continued success takes more effort.”
Understanding made a reluctant appearance in her gorgeous brown eyes. For some reason it made all the difference in the world to him. “I know I sound harsh. But they’re grown men who’ve been catered to for years. A polite request isn’t going to even make a dent.” Reaching out, he brushed his thumb along the softened curve of her jaw. “I do have a method behind my madness, I promise.”
The feel of her silky skin beneath his touch was magic, along with the warmth and subtle catch of her breath. They both froze in surprise for a moment. It was all Sloan could do to resist brushing his lips over the same spot.
Whoa. This was the design floor, not a nightclub...not even the privacy of his office. And judging by the utter silence laced with antagonism behind his back, Sloan knew Robert wouldn’t hesitate to throw around accusations of sexual misconduct. With Ziara’s approval or without it.
He took a careful step back, letting his hand drop to his side. “Just remember something—I wouldn’t be here if they’d been doing their jobs right in the first place. Okay?”
Her nod was firm, though her eyes were still a little dazed.
This meeting needed to get back on track. “Ziara,” he snapped, but with a little less bite than he’d used on the men. “The tablet, please.”
She hurried to obey, giving him a moment to regain his focus before turning back to the others. When she handed over the device, he noticed the care she took not to touch him again. After a moment of tapping on the smooth surface, he paused, looking up at the group around him.
“Current trends favor retro designs, new twists on the old, avant-garde as well as classic.” During his recent research, he’d seen some unique retro looks in the fashion and wedding magazines, and they had sparked his own creative imagination.
“In less than three months, I’ll be showcasing our newest designs during a professional fashion show. We’re going to bring fashion week right here to Atlanta. It’ll be an exclusive, invitation-only event that I want people talking about for months.”
As Sloan continued to explain the fall show, excitement crept over the anger that had tightened the designers’ faces. He might have punctured their egos earlier, but now he was tempting them.
Lifting the tablet, he turned it around to face them. “Every event needs a theme, a focal point. This is ours.”
“A car? Are you insane?” Robert yelled, returning to his angry disbelief.
“Not just any car, a Rolls-Royce. A classic car epitomizing the elegance, sleek design and subtle sensuality of the late 1930s. An era where women flaunted sexy curves, draped their bodies with fabrics that showcased