House of Payne: Steele (32 page)

As another round of applause sounded, Essie racked her brain to come up with a valid excuse to get out of there. Anything would do. Pulling a fire alarm. Pretending an appendicitis attack. Fainting.

At this point, pulling off a fainting spell would be a cinch.

“With the introductions out of the way,” Payne’s voice announced over the loudspeakers, “let’s bring out our designers one last time and reveal who’s going to be the House’s premiere designer.”

“That’s your cue. Head out to the end of the catwalk and face the judges, and behave like the professionals you are.” Scout pulled the curtain open. “Good luck.”

Again the sound and lights pummeled Essie’s senses, but this time she barely noticed as it all swam before her. Her palms were so sweaty she had to wipe them on the sides of her skirt, and her stomach promised her that if she moved she’d barf while the world watched. Olivier went out and she knew she had to follow, but she couldn’t get her feet to move.

Shit.

“Essie.” Scout’s voice warbled in and out. “Go on out.”

I’m scared. I’m seriously fucking scared.

Through the gap in the open curtain, her eyes lifted to lock unerringly onto Steele. In that moment it didn’t matter that the sweet closeness that had been between them was gone. Just looking at him calmed the terrified clamor inside her and her pulse climbed down out of the stratosphere. He returned her gaze unblinkingly, his concentration on her so fierce it was almost a tangible thing. And when she shakily stepped out onto the runway, he nodded encouragingly and began to push through the crowd so he could keep pace with her while simultaneously closing the distance between them.

Thank goodness.

He was with her.

That was all that mattered.

“You can do this.” His mouth formed the words so perfectly she could have sworn she heard him, though that was impossible with all the cheering. “You’ve got this.”

“I don’t know.” She gave a helpless shake of her head and kept her eyes glued to him as she traversed a runway that had somehow grown in length, as if it belonged in a nightmare and she was on a never-ending death march to get to the end.

“I do.” His cocky grin was like sunshine as he moved with her through the crowd. “You. Are. Amazing. Believe it.”

Her chest clenched with a beautiful ache, and she smiled for the first time in what felt like years, before she finally got to the end of the walk and came to stand by Olivier. A sea of flashing cameras blinded her, and she lost sight of Steele while Payne spoke into a handheld mic from the judges’ stand.

“All right, Olivier and Essie. It’s been one crazy-ass ride getting to this point, and I know the two of you have put up with a lot of shit to get here. That’s why I wanted to let you both know that while one of you is destined to be House Of Payne’s official designer, you’re both getting paid for all the work you’ve put into this gig. The runner-up will leave here with a ten-thousand dollar consolation prize on the condition that the House gets the right of first-refusal on all the designs they’ve come up with for this contest. You’re both incredible, and I know I saw a lot of designs on the runway that I want exclusively for the House.”

Holy crap, she thought, rocking back on her heels. Even if she lost, she could recoup the money she’d lost in moving back to Chicago. Maybe losing wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

Then her stomach tied itself in another knot, showing her what a crummy liar she was.

“For the winner, though, it’s a different story.” Payne grinned at them, then at the camera streaming the event live on the internet, proving yet again that he was a first-class showman. “In addition to being offered a multi-year contract with the House and representing the House Of Payne brand in the international fashion world, our winner will also receive a signing bonus of fifty grand. So, now that you know no one’s walking away empty-handed, let’s get to it. Olivier, Essie… do you have any final words before the decision is rendered?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Olivier shake his head. Then she glanced over at Steele and heard herself blurt out, “I’m honored to have made it this far, but I’m also really scared and need to hold someone’s hand, because I think I’m gonna faint.”

Oh crap, did she actually say that out loud?

On the judges’ stand, Becks made a sound of sympathy while the crowd laughed.

Yep. She’d definitely said it out loud.

Stupid mouth.

“Hand-holding, huh? I get that.” Payne grinned at her. “We don’t want you to crap out on us now, Es, so go ahead and grab up Olivier’s hand and—”

“No.” A fluid move beside her had her turning in shock, even as Steele jumped up onto the stage like it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

Holy crap.

“Steele—”

“It’s okay, sweetness. I’m here.” His left hand reached for hers while his right arm looped around her shoulders, tucking her in tight to his side. Lowering his head, he pressed a warm, lingering kiss to her forehead before looking to the judges’ stand. “I’m the one who holds Essie’s hand around here. No one else.” He lifted a brow at Payne while she continued to gape up at him. Honest to God, the man had to have the biggest frigging balls in the world. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

Considering Steele said it in a way that warned Payne that he’d better not have a problem with it, Essie let out a relieved breath when Payne shrugged a careless shoulder. “I don’t give a shit, dude, unless Olivier has a problem with it.”

Olivier appeared too appalled that he had to share the stage with them to come up with a suitably stinging reply. “Why would I care?”

“All right, then. And, uh, ladies and gentlemen,” Payne added while the crowd buzzed at the unusual turn of events. “Don’t be too alarmed at the apparent lax security that allowed this gentleman to come bounding up onstage to be with Essie. This is Ezekiel Steele, the chief of security here at House Of Payne in addition to being Essie’s official hand-holder, so if anyone else tries to bounce onstage like he just did, you’re going to have to deal with either him or a member of his team.”

“And no one wants to do that,” Steele added for good measure, scowling at the crowd around them. “Trust me on this.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Essie whispered, leaning against him. She didn’t care that he didn’t love her, or that he’d played her while never intending to let her in on the rules of his game. He was
there
. Just having him close soothed her jangling nerves. “What if you get in trouble? Your job at PSI—”

“No one holds your hand but me,” he reiterated shortly, sounding almost pissed off. But the squeeze his arm gave her was gentle, and his mouth dropped to the crown of her head. “Everything’s cool. Stop worrying.”

“But—”

“Shh, even if this move would get me fired, which it won’t, it’d still be totally fucking worth it. Now shut up, hold on tight to my hand, and let’s get through this.”

She rolled both her lips together and bit down. It was the only way to stop herself from babbling even more.

“The judging was close in several categories.” Payne looked down at a score sheet he’d picked up from the stand in front of him. “From design, to originality, to practicality and ease of use, the designers were virtually tied. But only one designer tipped the scales in the other categories of understanding what House Of Payne stands for, the creativity in use of materials, the incorporation of exclusive House Of Payne tattoo designs, and the versatility and broad range of their overall collection. The House needs a designer with vision and an understanding of who we are, as well as understanding its core audience while also trying to reach the next-gen audience. Only one designer aced all these categories, hands down. So, without further ado, the House Of Payne’s fashion contest winner is…”

She stopped breathing.

Steele’s arm tightened. His mouth pressed against her hair while his hand gripped hers.

“Essie!”

“
Yes
.” The word burst out of Steele a second before she was lifted off the floor. The world spun dizzily while the crowd roared. Then his mouth slammed down onto hers in a wild kiss packed with relief and joy and unapologetic hunger. His hand cupped the back of her head as if he wanted to fuse her lips to his forever, and she wasn’t sure if the flashing fireworks going off behind her closed lids came from the bank of photographers, or from the absolute perfection of his kiss.

Personally, she was betting on his kiss.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“I’m just saying it would be nice if you invited your boyfriend over.” Seated at a picnic table under a brilliant late summer sky, Lynette Santiago tied yet another primary-colored balloon to a small peat container holding a sprouting begonia. She and the rest of the Santiago family, along with Angel’s parents, had been at it for hours, tying balloons to whatever they could think of. The balloons would then be used to outline the life-sized floor plan of a house. It was Angel’s birthday, the day Essie’s brother Twist had been working toward for months, and since he was at last revealing the plans for the house he’d bought as her birthday surprise, he needed all hands on deck to help him out.

Unfortunately, this landed Essie squarely in her family’s lap, something she’d been avoiding since she’d won House Of Payne’s fashion contest.

Clearing her throat, Essie pushed to her feet, taking a flat of weighted-down balloons with her. “It’s taken all morning, but we’re almost done outlining the floor plan of Twist’s new house. I think Angel’s dad said we only have the foyer left to do, right? What was his name again?”

“Jackson Taylor, and Angel’s mother is Emily. Don’t forget again.”

“Sorry, my brain seems to be out of order. I think the fashion show killed it.”

“You’re not changing the subject on me, young lady.”

“Oooh.
Young lady
. Someone’s in trouble.” Looking stylish in a preppy, country-clubber way, Angel’s best friend whom Essie knew only as Joey came along and relieved her of the balloon-filled flat. “Maybe now’s not the time to drop in and offer my help?”

Essie flashed him a bright smile. “You could help me out by shooting me.”

A deep, masculine chuckle came from behind her, and she glanced back to see Joey’s partner, the stunningly gorgeous Novak, watching them with wicked eyes. “Sorry, babe, but the only thing my Joey would ever do to a sweetheart like you is kill you with kindness.”

“Is it so wrong that your mother and father would like to meet your young man?” Lynette turned appealing eyes to the men. “That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

Essie groaned. “Mom, Joey and Novak don’t know who you’re talking about. They barely even know
me
.”

“It’s still a legitimate question, young lady.”

“
Young lady
again. Ouch.” Joey arched a brow at her in a way that made her frown dissolve into a reluctant smile. “That’s two in under a minute. You’re so in the doghouse.”

“Personally I don’t see how it’s such a difficult question to answer, even without the particulars.” Novak shrugged. “If it’s a serious relationship, then the fams should get together and run through the whole meet-and-greet ordeal. But if it’s a matter of hittin’ it and quittin’ it, then no way. No need to drag your loved ones through something that’s basically an elongated version of a one-night stand. That’d be awkward.”

“Unlike this conversation.” Essie looked up at the cloudless sky and sighed. “Why is there never a convenient bolt of lightning around when you need one?”

“Your Ezekiel Steele kissed you in front of hundreds of people when you won. That kiss made all the local papers. It’s been a week and I’m still seeing it pop up online. Yet I’d never even heard of this young man until that night. And I
still
haven’t met him. Me, your own mother.”

“Steele’s somewhere in Dallas on business, he’s not my young man and he doesn’t like the name Ezekiel because his dad was a freaky fire-and-brimstone preacher who tried to kill him with rattlesnakes.” Then she threw up her hands in exasperation. “The main takeaway from all of that is that Steele isn’t my young man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a foyer to outline.”

Dragging Joey with her before her mother could apply another layer of pressurized guilt, Essie marched along the huge residential lot to where the future foyer was marked out with strings tied to wooden stakes hammered into the ground. “Sorry about that,” she muttered, her face uncomfortably warm as she took a weighted balloon in each hand and set them along what would be the walls of the foyer. The rest of the house had been outlined with a rainbow of balloons in exactly the same way, because Twist had said the only thing Angel had asked for was a balloon or two for her birthday. “My life got a little weird last week, and it’s still not back on track.”

“Novak and I were at House Of Payne as Angel’s guests the night of the fashion show, so we saw the whole thing. Congratulations on the big win, by the way,” he added, smiling at her look of surprise. He had a nice smile, quiet and understanding in a way that put her at ease. “And I’ll be honest with you—I get where your mother is coming from. If you were my daughter, I’d want to know who that man was who bounded up onstage to your rescue when it looked like you were about to faint.”

“Fainting was a definite possibility.” And she still hadn’t fully recovered. There were times when she’d get a rush of lightheadedness or feel sick to her stomach, and she had almost been on-target when she’d claimed she was going to nap for a week. She just couldn’t seem to get herself right, and she couldn’t help but think it was because she was so up in the air over Steele. “It’s just that when it comes to me and Steele, things aren’t…” She searched for the right word as she grabbed up two more balloons. “Things aren’t perfect between Steele and me at the moment. That’s why I’m not comfortable talking about him with my parents.”

At that, Joey burst out laughing. “If you’re waiting for things to be perfect between the two of you, your parents are never going to hear about him. FYI, there’s no such thing as
perfect
in a relationship.”

“Tell Steele that. He was once married to the love of his life, a woman who dropped his ass like a hot rock when he had the audacity to get wounded while serving his country. But amazingly enough, he still thinks of that love as so frigging
perfect
he can’t imagine ever being able to love like that, or to love
at all
, ever again. How messed up is that? Wait, don’t answer,” she sighed when he simply stared at her. “Sorry. I know it’s messed up. It’s also messed up that I told you any of that. Please just ignore me and my totally inappropriate verbal vomiting, okay? I’ve been weirdly psychotic lately, due to the amount of stress I’ve been under, so please just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“I can’t believe the guy I saw sweep you up and kiss you like his life depended on it is incapable of love,” he said thoughtfully, ignoring the last part of her statement. “In fact, Novak and I talked about you guys afterward, you were so intense with each other. We assumed you were committed to each other in a big way. You definitely gave off that vibe, anyway.”

“That vibe was probably coming from me. I fell hard for him, while he just stood there with his proverbial hands behind his back and watched me fall.” Then she shook her head, placing balloons along the line of string until she ran into a gap—the place where a future front door would be. “I don’t know. Maybe it was too much to expect for Steele to break my fall. I just wish he’d told me from the beginning that he wasn’t ever going to be… what’s the term? Emotionally available.”

Joey absorbed this for a long moment. “Bob Marley had a lot to say about women and relationships—a much-overlooked philosopher of his time, in my opinion. One of my favorite quotes of his has to do with a man not being worthy of a woman if he dares to awaken her love while never having any intention of returning it.”

Essie stared at the bright orange balloon in her hand, and waited for the pain in her heart to ease before she set the balloon in place. “That sounds about right.”

“But it doesn’t
feel
right, at least not from this outsider’s perspective. You were totally on-target when you said I barely know you,” he went on when she shot him a dubious glance. “And I sure as hell don’t know Steele. All I can tell you is an objective observer’s point of view, and the view I had of the two of you a week ago was seriously spectacular. The man who kissed you was a man who wasn’t emotionally unavailable, Essie. Far from it. That guy was thrilled and relieved and exhilarated that you’d won, because it was what
you
wanted.”

“Well… yeah, he was excited I’d won. He knew how hard I’d worked on all my projects.”

“My point exactly. Men like that don’t get excited over fashion shows unless they’re heavily invested on an emotional level. I’d be willing to bet your Steele cares way more than you think. Probably even more than
he
thinks.” He helped set the few remaining balloons while she digested this. “Just do me a favor, okay? Try to remember that there’s no such thing as
perfect
in a relationship. So he has an ex, and he’s got baggage. I’m sure you do, too. Neither one of you is perfect, so let that expectation go. Once you do, things generally tend to get a lot easier. And a lot more awesome.”

The sun’s merciless glare at last began to ease around mid-afternoon. Essie smiled as she watched Twist smooth sunscreen onto Angel’s thin, tattoo-decorated arms, before he bent to give her a kiss. It had been quite a reveal, Angel’s birthday present. As blown away as her sister-in-law had been with the new house Twist had bought and Angel’s architect father had custom-designed, Angel had trumped everyone by asking if the new house would have, of all things, a nursery.

Bedlam had ensued when her sister-in-law then admitted that every pregnancy test she’d taken—seriously, who took
seven
pregnancy tests?—had been positive. In less than nine months, there would be a new niece or nephew for Essie to love.

And she would love that little one, she thought, settling tiredly onto one of the three picnic benches that had been set up for Angel’s surprise birthday party, now littered with pizza boxes, cans of beer and soda and paper plates. Just as she adored Nick’s girls. A long time ago her brothers had promised to “share” their children with her, and she loved them for that, so much. But as much as she would shower love on Twist’s and Angel’s baby, when the time came she would respect the new family’s space. While she hungered for a family of her own—and with an amazing career at the House to give her financial security, she might have that through the process of adoption one day—she knew that, for now, family life wasn’t in the cards for her.

But she could still be happy for them.

“Just look at those two.” With a gusty sigh her father, Ed Santiago, settled in across from her, while her mother sat beside her with a contented smile. Now that Angel’s baby news had been popped, her parents had gotten off her back about Steele, thank God. “To look at them, you’d never think they were a matched set. But they just sort of fit, you know?”

Essie’s smile widened as she looked at Twist and Angel. “I think she’s tamed him a little.”

“Married life will do that to you.” Her father sighed reminiscently. “I was just as wild as anyone in my youth. Then I got married, and a leash was put on the tiger.”

“That tiger turned into a pussycat when the babies started coming,” Her mother reminded him with a grin. “The same thing’s going to happen to Oliver, mark my words.”

Essie couldn’t help but snort at the thought of Twist turning into a pussycat. Her imagination simply wasn’t up to the task. “It’s going to be a crazy time for them—getting the new house done in time for the baby. Angel better get started on her prenatal vitamins now.”

“Those things are great for the baby, but they only help so much when it comes to giving a woman energy,” her mother scoffed, waving her hand. “She’s going to be dragging from one thing to the next, falling asleep in the middle of sentences, forgetting where she parked her car or what she’s doing. Pregnant-brain is a horrible thing. We should warn Twist about that, now that I think about it.”

“Ugh, that sounds like me after all the stress I’ve been under,” Essie groaned, rubbing a hand over her face in the hope that it would take away the weariness. “I can’t get enough sleep after that crazy grind I put myself through. And my memory? Forget about it. Not only could I not retain the names of Angel’s parents—oh, and by the way, I’ve forgotten their names
again
—I had to text Twist twice this past week to ask what day Angel’s birthday was on. He had to remind me that all I had to do was reread the text he’d originally sent. See? My mind is gone. G-O-N-E. Wait, did I spell that right? I can’t remember.”

“My poor baby worked herself to a frazzle.” Her mother fiddled with the thick weight of her hair to pull it up off her neck. Essie immediately went into a zonked stupor. “Be thankful it’s all behind you, love. You can recover as you settle into your new job.”

“I do have time to recover,” Essie mumbled sleepily, eyes closing as she dropped her chin to her chest. “But, if Angel goes through the usual pregnancy symptoms of fatigue, forgetfulness, nausea, lightheadedness…” She trailed off as at last her brain listened to what her mouth was saying.

Fatigue.

Forgetfulness.

Nausea.

Lightheadedness.

And one more thing…

She was late by almost two weeks.

Stress, she thought while a surge of adrenaline popped her chin off her chest and made her eyes snap open. It was stress. That was what it had to be. Sure, they’d had a couple condom malfunctions, but that wasn’t the point. At the time of her attack, the doctors had told her that, with the possibility of scar tissue buildup, becoming pregnant would be about as possible as getting struck by lightning. And since condoms had been used every time, the chances of becoming pregnant were even less so.