In the Nick of Time (96 page)

Cheers, Taryn!

She toasted to herself as she looked out of the airplane window, excited at the prospect of holding Nick in her arms and press her lips against his. Yes… Nick was her home, for home is where the heart is…

D
ark Bill Blass
and Michael Kors suits and rare silk ties—the kind that thousands of dollars are made of. He sniffed the air, surprised he’d hadn’t become rich just by standing amongst the fuckers, or overdosed on the mere scent of their money. Nick couldn’t wipe the goddamn smirk off his face. He hated that he enjoyed slithering around, hiding under the radar just like in his hay day. The element of surprise still titillated him as he stood there in the vast lobby with his hands on his hips. He glanced up at the large clock on the wall, the thing decked out in crystals, the time barely discernible due to the overkill of adornment. Every now and again, a hostess would come and offer drinks on a platter. He’d never seen such a thing. After all, this building sat half a block away from Grand Central Station; 44
^th
street was nothing to scoff at.

He’d never been inside the place, only driven by. Being inside the belly of the beast proved an entirely surreal experience. He ran his hand over his charcoal gray blazer pocket, tapped it just so, needing a reminder as to why his ass was there in the first place. Meanwhile, he continued to turn down the alcohol; hell, it wasn’t even noon yet, despite his adversity to the beverage for obvious reasons. Yet, he did ask for a hot cup of coffee to tide him over while he waited outside the vast red cedar doors with stainless steel handles. Silver bracelets and platinum and diamond watches floated about, wrapped on arms worth their weight in gold. Never mind all of that, he was there for one reason and one reason only.

Just a few more minutes to go…

He looked back up at the clock, watching the second hand tick and tock its way around and around, drawing him closer to a resolution. He was pleasantly surprised that his nerves hadn’t kicked into high gear. Regardless, he was thankful for the calm before the storm.

It’s almost Showtime…

Tick… Tock…

“And so.” Fern
sat back in her seat and her chair sighed as she shifted about. With each move, her clear bracelet slid against her tanned flesh. “If we order, say, one hundred units, we would want to sell the ‘Living Dolls’ nightgowns in the three colors and seasonal designs mentioned, at approximately seventy-two dollars a piece.”

“That’s astronomical. That defeats the purpose,” Jules spoke up, his brows bunching in annoyance at the woman. Taryn sat across from him at the other end of the long table, lulled by the faint sound of a water cooler juddering about.

Seventy-two dollars? Is she crazy?! I’m not selling those nightgowns for that price. We’ll just have to find a cheaper manufacturer.

“Fern, first I want to thank you for coming, and for your interest,” she said, unwilling to let this go on a second longer.

The woman nodded.

“I must say, although my clothing line is considered higher end, it is not only intended for wealthy women. Women of all walks of life have suffered from this horrible disease. All women, whether they make eight bucks an hour or five hundred dollars a minute, deserve to be able to feel beautiful and sexy. I want to offer all sorts of lingerie products that fit most budgets. I cannot in good conscience sell a nightgown for over seventy-two dollars to
anyone
, if it is not made of a higher end material. This is our middle grade, and the price point was supposed to be at thirty-one, thirty-five tops. You’ve almost doubled that.”

The woman sighed, an obvious look of annoyance on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Now, I know we wanted to keep all the manufacturing in the U.S. I get that and I am all for us having the gowns and bras made here, but if we need to consider having some manufacturing outside of the States to help keep this price point low, then we simply must.”

Jules nodded in agreement, cleared his throat, and got to his feet.

“I’m glad you brought that up, Taryn, because I’ve been encouraging you to consider that from the onset. Though your mission was admirable, if you wish to keep the lingerie at that price point, then not all of it can be manufactured here, especially not the prosthetic inclusive ones. We have a meeting with Spanx in two days.”

The room buzzed with instant chatter at his revelation.

“They are quite interested. Now, we have—”

The room suddenly brightened, as if a novel idea had been hatched. Taryn looked about, wondering where the strange sound was coming from. It grew louder and louder…

…That’s music.

Jules looked around in confusion, as well as the other executives, shareholders, and guests.

“What is that?” He looked about. “Why is there music playing during this meeting?”

Everyone wore a dumbfounded expression. The oversized doors slowly opened, and there stood a man. The music grew louder, and she recognized the damn song—one of their favorites, the one they made love to at least once a week… the one that made her climb the damn walls while he moved like a river within her…

‘Ed Sheeran’s, ‘I See Fire’…

She clasped her hands over her trembling mouth as she slowly rose from her seat. When he walked in, all eyes turned his way…

Chin held high, he slowly undid the last button on his blazer, a smirk on his beautiful face.

“Oh my God… what are you doing here?” she whispered, knowing the man couldn’t hear her…

“You should have stayed away from me,” he announced into a small microphone. His smirk soon morphed into a smile. “That’s what some people think… that’s what some people say.” The music died down a bit, but continued to play as he spoke. He casually stood there, one hand in his pocket, the other gripping the microphone.

“Hi, everybody,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt, I know that this is uh,” he looked towards his feet then focused back on the audience, “an important day for Taryn, for Ms. Jones.” He pointed down the way at her, and though he was so far away, he felt so close… so near… so dear… so deep.

“My name is Nick Vitale, and I’m a homicide detective for the Brooklyn Police, the 73
^rd
precinct in Brownsville. I’m also Ms. Jones’ boyfriend.” He took a deep breath and continued. “We have been together for awhile now. All of you in here are well aware that she is not only the creator of the Living Dolls lingerie line under the Sweet Warrior brand, but she’s beautiful, intelligent, kind, and highly capable. I’m not here to make a business deal with Ms. Jones, however. I’m here to make a lifetime pact.”

“…Oh my God…oh…my God.” She stood there, frozen in her damn skin. Lost, drowning.

“I’m doing this, right here, right now, in this way, to prove something to myself, as well as to her. You see, for the longest, I was closed off. I didn’t play well with others. I… I had some problems. I still have problems, but I deal with them in a totally different way. This woman,” he said, his voice breaking. “taught me how to do
more
than just survive. She taught me how to live, give and accept love and to
thrive
. I thought I was doing okay, but I wasn’t. She is the strongest, most resilient person I know. She was young and beautiful, and in her prime, a monster came, called breast cancer, and tried to beat her down into submission… but Taryn is submissive to
no
one…”

Chuckles and claps erupted in the room, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“But… she’s not hard. She’s
all
woman… soft, calming, beautiful, alluring, and feminine. She had this dream…” He pointed to the designs piled neatly in the middle of the table. “…and because of her trauma, that dream came to fruition in a new way. Come to find out, there were hundreds, thousands, even millions of women who had the same desire she did, to feel like they had before the monster came and challenged them. To wear clothing that complemented their new bodies, made them uninhibited, sexy and simply… comfortable.

“Don’t we miss how we felt in some ways, five years ago? Hell even a year ago?”

Several people nodded.

“Recall your best times in life, how you felt, what you were wearing, seeing and feeling… oddly enough, the best time of my life happened during one of the worst times. I was in a drug rehabilitation center. While in there, I was forced to find myself, to figure out why I was doing what I was doing. I wasn’t addicted to alcohol; I was addicted to suffering!” His voice cracked again.

“I felt the continuous need to be punished for many things that were not in my control. It was far easier for me to chase bad guys than to deal with the bad guy
inside
of me. It was much easier to risk my life each and every day for the people of New York, than to care about my own life enough to try and make it better, make it count. I was alive, but not living… I didn’t think I deserved to live, because there were dead people all around me, and in some ways, I believed I put them there; therefore, I should be dead, too.” He took a moment to regroup.

“No one has judged me harder and harsher than I judged myself. No one has pushed me as much as that woman right there.” He smiled sadly at her, and though she stood too far away to be completely certain, she could have sworn the damn man’s eyes were glistening with emotion. “She loves me…” He shook his head, as if in disbelief. “I’m not completely sure as to why, but she does and I need it!” He pointed to himself.

“I’m the best me when I’m with
her
. We’ve had some experiences together that most will not have, but those experiences made us better. She showed me how to be present, to feel and accept and change. And I showed her how to let go, to step back, re-evaluate, accept help and never give up on herself. Taryn was everyone’s cheerleader except her own, and that needed to stop… It needed to stop.”

She dropped her head, blinking back the tears.

“You all need to get back to making these deals, agreements, and a bunch of shit that I think is pretty damn cool but frankly, don’t understand.” This caused a louder burst of laughter. “And you may wonder why I came in here, thinking this was planned, some sort of sales pitch so you could see that you were getting a real prize, a warrior to go along with the merchandise, but that’s not it at all. I’m here because she tells me I’m the most important person in her life, and this is an important day for her, so why not merge the two together and create a beautiful memory?” He zoomed in on her then, like a rocket, his steps beat fast across the floor. At the same time, he dug in his pocket. Before she knew it, she was inhaling his Jean Paul Gaultier cologne and his warm breath wafted against her cheek as he whispered, “I love you,” and planted a kiss upon her lips.