As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Audra winced. While that would have worked with Suzi or Bea, Isabel knew Audra’s history as well as her own. Once upon a time, Audra had thought love might exist. She’d believed a guy was more important than she was and had gladly handed him her dreams on a silver platter. Too bad he hadn’t been interested enough to even lift the lid.
Luckily, her friend didn’t press her advantage. She just patted Audra’s hand where it rested on the gearshift knob and slid out of the car.
“Oh, hey, I almost forgot your souvenir.” Isabel grinned and pulled a long strip of tacky green fabric from her bag. The tie. Audra took it with a wince. Ugly.
Isabel’s grin faded as she shut the car door with a little wave. “You’re there, Audra. Staring success in the face. Don’t blow it.”
Audra rolled her eyes and, without a word, slammed the car in gear and shot away from the curb.
Tension flamed its way over her shoulders and down her neck. And no wonder. She’d been fighting to prove herself all freaking night. Sure, she’d convinced her friends to chill out.
The cost? Instead of celebrating the first step of achieving her dreams, she was now wrestling with a pack of doubts. To say nothing of feeling overwhelmed by what could only be described as an identity crisis.
At this rate, she’d soon be one of those boring goody-goodys who worked all week for someone else’s glory. Then spent Saturday night home alone. Maybe a pint of Chunky Monkey for company. Her friends would drop her a line now and then, a pity call for old times sake.
She was worried. Hell, she should be worried.
And yet all she could think about was whether or not she’d ever hear from Jesse again to finish what they’d started.
Maybe Isabel had a point?
4
AT HER DRAWING TABLE Monday morning, Audra stared at the design she was supposed to be finishing. Instead, she’d been sitting here, staring, for over an hour. Blocked. She’d never been blocked before. But now, she looked at the sketch of a white silk chemise and all she saw was blah, boring, vanilla.
Had she sold out? Had she put the idea of building a career, of making a name for herself in the lingerie design business, ahead of her individuality? Hell, did she even have individuality anymore? The things she’d counted on most of her life seemed to be slipping away. Her friends, her wicked persona. Her sexy attitude and ability to wow a guy speechless.
She eyed the tie she’d tossed on her table and rolled her eyes. Well, maybe she hadn’t lost the speechless thing. That geek hadn’t been able to weave three words together.
Audra looked at the wall over her table, sketches for the fall line in various stages of completion tacked across it. Some were, yes…vanilla. But only a couple. Most were hot. Empowering. An invitation for a woman to embrace her sensuality, to dress herself up in a way that would guarantee she felt strong and sexy.
Dammit, she was proud of those designs.
For a girl with few standout traits—at least, ones she wanted to market—the acclaim and attention she’d received designing lingerie were amazing. Audra had never stood out for anything but her looks and her badass attitude. So to take the sexy little designs she dreamed up from sketch to finished product gave her a sense of accomplishment she’d never imagined growing up as a number on a social worker’s case file.
To have others actually pay money for that lingerie? It rocked, plain and simple.
So maybe she was focusing on the vanilla aspect, for now. It was a place to start. Soon, she’d layer in some rich, bittersweet chocolate syrup, maybe a little whipped cream. If she followed Isabel’s advice and all that career planning stuff her friend spouted, Audra figured she’d have her cherry-topped dreams before she was thirty.
Nothing to worry about. She wasn’t losing herself in the dream. Just working toward making her starring role a little better.
Semireassured, she forced herself to shake off the irritating introspection and took a swig of her energy drink.
She fingered her memento from Saturday night, the geek’s hideous tie. It was a poorly-sewn-together monstrosity of blue geometric shapes strewn over an eye-watering green polyester background. She ought to toss it in the trash, but for some reason she couldn’t. Probably because it reminded her of the delight she’d almost had, and how she’d let it get away.
“What’s that? A new design?” Natasha, Audra’s sister-in-law and boss, asked as she entered the small office-slash-design room. She reached out to touch the tie and grimaced. “No offense, Audra, but that’s butt-ugly. Is that the kind of thing you’re going to do now that you’ve graduated textile design school with all those honors?”
Audra fought back a blush. Honors. Who’d have thunk it? She was so not an honors kind of chick. For a woman who’d gotten her high school diploma through the G.E.D. program, school was not the gig of choice. But the Textile and Fashion Design Academy? She’d found heaven. People who admired her for more than her bust, who were more interested in the designs she envisioned and brought to life than how much she could drink.
“No,” she said in answer to the question, “this isn’t a design for Simply Sensual. It’s more like a reminder.”
“Of what not to wear, I hope.”
More like of the hottest guy she’d ever almost had, to say nothing of her fall from Wicked Chick status. Two dares failed in one night. How humiliating. A wave of despair washed over her. Were her friends right? Was she changing? Losing her edge in her drive to build a career? The missing condom definitely supported that theory.
She looked around the work space, its soft blues and deep burgundies edged with gilt and curlicues. Pure femininity. The colors and lines definitely weren’t what she’d call her style, yet she was perfectly comfortable here. Productive, even more so than in the vivid purple and red decor of her apartment.
It was a Monday morning, and she’d shown up at work before Natasha to open the shop. Again, a sign of responsibility at odds with her bad girl reputation of swinging in whenever the whim took her.
It was enough to make a girl panic. But Audra ignored the sick tension in her stomach and the freaked-out thoughts swirling through her brain. She was made of sterner stuff than that. Dammit, she could have it all. She’d prove her badness, and make her mark on the lingerie world.
Since that wasn’t the kind of thing she could share, though, she just smiled. In looks, Natasha was her complete opposite. Blond, ladylike and subdued. It was only after Audra had gotten to know her that she’d recognized the wild woman under Natasha’s tidy exterior.
“I like to think of it as a design with an identity crisis,” Audra said of the tie. Like a game show hostess, she held it high in one hand and trailed the back of her fingers over it with the other. It was so poorly constructed, it felt as if they’d left a needle or something between the layers.
“Identity crisis?” Natasha repeated with a laugh. “That tie is just ugly.”
Damned good thing she hadn’t ended up with its owner. Who knew what else of his was poorly constructed? Audra suppressed a shudder and shrugged. “Some ideas might come of it.”
Hopefully ideas on how to find balance between her ambitions and her friends instead of the sexual fantasies she’d entertained about Jesse and all the alternate endings to their encounter. Alternate endings she had no way to engineer since she’d not only become wuss girl without the condom, but hadn’t even got the man’s phone number.
God, what was happening to her?
“If anyone can find inspiration from it to use in a lingerie design, you can,” said Natasha. “After all, your latest nightie is selling like gangbusters. Didn’t