Beach Colors (41 page)

She picked up takeout Chinese and went back to the apartment to continue work. Suddenly the kitchen table seemed too small, the air too hot and still, the brick wall outside the window too claustrophobic. She’d have to start looking for her own place. A studio, possibly a small one-bedroom, but she’d have to wait to get paid first.

The next week passed in a blur. Margaux arrived early, stayed late. Everyone was working overtime and on overload. Tempers flared, diva attacks were the norm. It was intense, exciting. Exhausting. And relentless.

She’d turned in several designs that had gone to assembly. She’d okayed fabrics even though she knew it was more of a nod to her reputation and she had no doubt that they would change the fabric in a flash if the costs went too high. Or dozens of other reasons.

At the end of the week, she ran into Lisa Raul as she was coming out of the ladies’ room. Lisa stumbled past her, she was crying.

Déjà vu
. Margaux’s stomach burned in sympathy as Lisa rushed into a stall and retched. Margaux tiptoed away, leaving her to break down without an audience. It was a cutthroat business, Margaux just hoped the girl was having a stress meltdown and hadn’t just gotten fired.

Joey was waiting in her office, with fabric swatches for her to okay.

Sam stuck his head in the door. “Got a minute?”

“Sure.”

He stepped inside. “You’re in the fall show, you need to sign off on these right away.”

“Great,” Margaux said. Then she remembered Lisa Raul. Had she been dumped to make room for Margaux? Her stomach turned.

“Sam, I just saw Lisa Raul. She seemed pretty upset. Do you know what happened?”

Sam waved a dismissive hand. “A big disappointment. She just couldn’t compete, flat designs, no imagination. She showed such promise three years ago. We paid big bucks for her, and she just wimped out.”

“Did she get bumped from the fall show to make room for me?”

“Hell, I was going to have to do it anyway. I would have had to scramble to get something else, so if you want a full line in the fall show it’s yours. But we’ll need more. What do you have?”

Lisa’s career had been deep-sixed with a shrug—to make room for Margaux. It was the way things worked. Had always been that way. Would always be that way. No one’s fault and Margaux’s chance.

She mentally reviewed the things she’d worked on that week. They all just melded into one big gray area, nothing stuck out. She reached for her portfolio. Pulled out the top design. Handed it to Sam.

“Mmm, don’t love it,” Sam said.

She handed him another.

“That’s more like it. We’ll place it up front. Dynamite.” He held out his hand for more.

Trying to remember what else she had to show, she reached for the rest of the sketches.

As she pulled them out of her portfolio another paper floated to the desktop.

A crumpled piece of blue paper and Connor’s Day-Glo stars.

Her breath caught and she gripped the edge of her desk.

“Margaux? Is something wrong?”

Here was her chance to be back in the game. To make a success of her life. To set the runways ablaze with her designs—her black designs. She wanted to say she was fine, but she couldn’t get the words out.

He was willing to move mountains to get her. Screw the scheduled designers to keep her. But she didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s failure. That’s not how she wanted to live her life. Not her designs at the expense of another’s.

Something
was
wrong. Terribly wrong, she thought as she gazed down at that crumpled sky with Connor’s stars. The Milky Way. For her dress. The dress she hadn’t designed yet. And the one, she finally realized, she needed to make.

She closed her portfolio, looked up, smiled. “Thanks, Sam. This is such a great opportunity, but before this goes any further, I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull out.”

Sam’s face didn’t change. “I see. What if we sweeten the —”

“No. It’s a wonderful offer and opportunity. But to be fair to S and B, I’m really committed to what I’m doing now. Put Lisa back in the show. She’s got talent, she just burned out for a minute. I’ve done that. We all have. But she’s talented, she’s got a great future ahead of her. Take a chance on her.”

“Margaux. What will it take? You want to do a few pastels, I understand. But pastels just aren’t in this season. Maybe next year.”

This season. Maybe next year. Pastels.
He didn’t get it. But Margaux did at last. The colors she saw weren’t on the design palette, the clothing she made was whimsical, wearable, and maybe, just maybe, affordable without being shoddy. They weren’t haute couture. Maybe never could be. Maybe that’s not where she belonged.

Actually she knew it wasn’t where she belonged. It was sad to admit, but it set her free.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I’ve made my decision. Keep the designs I made for you. I don’t have use for them. I wish you all the best for the fall show. Goodbye.”

She turned and left. No air kiss, no one-armed hug that wouldn’t wrinkle suits or mess makeup or hair. Just two impeccably dressed men, staring in disbelief as she packed up her portfolio and grabbed her purse.

She made her way back through the chaos, smiled at everyone, nodded at the receptionist, and took the elevator downstairs.

She was hit by a blast of heat and the pungent smell of truck exhaust. There had been a time when she craved the energy of the city, of the industry. But she was a different person now.

Or at least she was the person she was meant to be. It may have taken a taciturn policeman and a silent little boy for her to get it. But she got it now. She just hoped she hadn’t waited too long.

She began to walk faster. If she hurried, she could beat rush-hour traffic and be home before dark.

Twenty-nine

M
argaux drove straight through Crescent Cove and stopped in front of Le Coif.

“Moved out the day after you left,” Linda said.

“You’re pissed,” Margaux said. “You have a right to be. Raise my rent to take care of what you’re losing without Nick.”

“You think that’s gonna fix things?”

“Do you want me to find another place for the boutique?”

“Do you want me to slap you upside the head? Brianna and Grace and Jude have been playing round-robin keeping this place open so you’d have something to come back to when you woke up and realized what a horse’s ass you were. Now I suggest you start working on an ad campaign. Put an ad in the paper for some retail help. And get your butt over to Adelaide’s and beg her to come back to work.”

“I can do the first two, but I don’t think Adelaide will be so easy.”

“Won’t know until you try.”

“Is Nick staying with her?”

“Nope.”

“Do you know where he’s staying?”

“Nope.”

A
week went by. Margaux made her peace with Bri, Grace, Linda, Dottie. Everyone welcomed her back, though it took some longer than others. She went back to work . . . on her beach designs.

And she was almost happy.

“So I’m a slow learner. I just had to make sure,” Margaux told Bri and Grace over a batch of watermelon martinis. “Now I know for sure. This is where I belong.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it. Have you seen Nick?”

Margaux shook her head. “He knows I’m back. If he wanted to see me, all he has to do is come to the store.”

“Ask Adelaide.”

“I can’t. What if Connor sees me? Nick won’t let me spend time with him. It will be awful.”

“Oh hell, Margaux. He’s not some kind of ogre. He’s just a guy who went out on a limb for you, probably a first in his controlled, organized life. And you cut it out from under him.”

“This from his worst critic,” Grace said, and poured another round of martinis.

“God, I’ve messed up everything.”

“Yeah, but you can fix it,” said Bri, and raised her glass. “Now go talk to Adelaide. We need her.”

We. They were
we
again. Margaux felt a shred of hope that she might be able to rectify things with Nick and Connor. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

It wasn’t easy. Adelaide wasn’t at home the two times Margaux tried to visit. She even considered marching into the police station and demanding that Nick see her. But she didn’t. She hoped he’d come around, forgive her and take her back, but she didn’t hold out much hope. She’d hurt him, harmed Connor, and disappointed Adelaide. She had a lot to answer for, if they would even listen.

She’d given up a future for one she thought she wanted, and by the time she’d discovered her mistake, she had lost both.

She was sitting at the counter of
Margaux
when the “Toreador Song” let her know that a customer was on the way. She dragged herself up from the stool and pasted on a smile.

Jude and Roger came into the store. They had that look. The look of promise, of happiness. Her stomach flipped over.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” said Jude. “Roger and I have something to tell you.”

“I know. Congratulations.”

“You don’t mind?” asked Roger. “If you feel—”

“Not at all. Welcome to the family.”
Family,
the word echoed through her mind and settled in her heart.

Jude was eyeing one of the new hostess gowns that had just come down from the sewing room, but she said, “I don’t know if I’m speaking out of turn.”

Margaux laughed. “It never bothered you before. Is it something bad?”

“That depends. Adelaide said you and Nick weren’t seeing each other.”

“He won’t see me. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with me and I can’t blame him.” Her mouth twisted. “I have everything I wanted now, but I lost the one thing that I need.”

“It isn’t too late.”

“Yeah. It is. He won’t take a chance again. I can’t blame him. And I don’t even know where he is. He isn’t staying at his apartment.”

“He’s staying at Jake McGuire’s until he can find a new place.”

“Oh great. I’ve hurt him and driven him from his home. What kind of person am I?”

“You’re a lovely person. And so is Nick. But you’re both wary and stubborn. Somebody has to make the first move.”

“I guess that someone would be me.”

Jude nodded. “Come on, Mags. Nick needs you. Connor needs you. You just have to convince him you’re here for good. You are here for good?”

Margaux nodded.

“Be absolutely sure before you do anything.”

“I’m sure. Even if Nick never speaks to me again, I’m home for good.”

“Then get going. Roger and I will mind the store.”

“Go where?”

“To Adelaide’s. She’s home. I just saw her car in the driveway. Go on.” She gave Margaux a quick hug and shooed her toward the door.

Margaux prayed that Adelaide would see her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the Buick parked in the driveway, and another sigh of relief that there wasn’t a white truck parked there.

She got out of the car, smoothed her hair, and walked up the driveway to the kitchen door.

She knocked, called, “Adelaide, could I see you for a minute? Please?”

It seemed forever before the door opened and Adelaide looked out at her.

“Can I come in?”

Looking resigned, Adelaide opened the door and let Margaux in.

“Say what you have to say. If you’ve come to fire me, think we can’t work together because of what’s happened between you and Nicky, I understand.”

“No, no,” blurted Margaux, taken off guard. “I need you. I couldn’t run
Margaux
without you. I was afraid maybe you had quit, because of how stupid I’ve been.”

Adelaide turned away and Margaux was afraid she was about to get kicked out, but Adelaide merely poured a cup of coffee from the carafe, put it on the table and motioned her to sit. Margaux saw the other cup already sitting on the table.

“Where’s Connor? Is he okay?”

“He’s over at the Eldon School, and no, he’s not okay.”

“The Eldon School. Isn’t that—”

“Hopefully it’s just temporary. Now that we’ve learned why he was so quiet, the therapist is hopeful he’ll be ready for school, maybe not in September but soon. We owe you that.”

“You have every reason to hate me. I know I hurt Nick and I hurt Connor. I didn’t want to, but sometimes I’m a slow learner and what I thought I wanted wasn’t what I wanted at all. But I had to find that out in my own way. Being a famous designer has always been my dream.” But that wasn’t true.
To design clothes that made the people who wore them feel good about themselves,
that’s what her diary entry had said. There was no mention of “famous.”

Adelaide put down her cup. “Nicky had dreams, too. But when Cyril died he put them on hold to take care of Ben and me. Nick’s always taken care of his family. Never neglected his duty. Never put himself first. Those years he was at home, he closed off a little piece of himself.”

“The part that dreamed.”

“And then Ben died and Connor came to us. And again Nick gave up everything for his family. It’s a rare thing for a man to do. A thing to be proud of.” Adelaide sighed, a weight seemed to settle across her shoulders. “For a while this summer, I thought he might get it back, that little piece, but . . .” She turned away, but not before Margaux saw the glimmer of sudden tears.

“It’s my fault.”

“Enough with fault,” Adelaide said vehemently. “Life is what it is. We do the best we can. The two of you could do worse than each other. You both started out with dreams. There’s no reason you can’t fulfill them. You might accomplish it alone. But it’s a much better thing to share it with someone you love.”

Margaux hung her head, fighting her own tears. “It’s too late for us. He would never let us try now. Too many years, too much baggage.”

“Fiddlesticks. Baggage. I don’t know what all this talk about baggage is. Just excuses for lack of courage. You and Nick could be happy if you would only try.”

“He doesn’t want to try. He hates me.”

Adelaide shook her head. “He has loved you since he was a boy.”

“What—what do you mean? I didn’t even know him then.”

“No, but he knew you. At least I always assumed it was you. And then when I saw you together this summer, I knew.”