Stay With Me (A BWWM Russian Billionaire Romance Novel) (Imani's Russian Billionaire Series Book 1) (8 page)

I
t was
the day of Thania’s second fashion show, and in many ways she felt as if this one was more important than the first. Critics would be looking for any flaw so that they could point out that she was a one hit wonder, and no one should believe the hype.

If that happened, all of her progress would halt, and most likely, her business would go under. That was why she had spent almost every minute of the last week in the studio where the fashion show would take place. She needed to supervise and oversee every single detail, so she would know that everything was at its absolute best.

She had hand picked every model, and every outfit. She had altered the designs herself, by hand, because she didn’t trust anyone else to make sure the model’s clothes fit perfectly. The designs had to look like they were made for each individual model’s body, and she had worked to the point of exhaustion to make sure that happened.

Unfortunately, Vlad had been in her thoughts as well that week. That morning, she had stepped out of the shower, having thought about her night with Vlad while she scrubbed away her exhaustion. She had only had about three hours of sleep, and was even a bit hung over, since she had become sentimental last night and bought a bottle of the wine that she and Vlad had enjoyed together.

But of more concern to her than being hung over, today of all days, was that thoughts of Vlad were prominent in her mind. As she straightened her hair with a flat-iron, she closed her eyes and felt his hands on her breasts, heard him whisper her name, saw his face above her in the dark as he came. Damn it, she thought, as she turned off her Chi hair straightener, and walked into her bedroom to get dressed for the day. Okay, the sex had been amazing, but it was time to move on. Actually, it had been time to move on a week ago. But her body and her mind did not want to cooperate.

And Vlad wasn’t helping either. He had called her a few times earlier in the week, but when she didn’t answer, he had stopped. She had been relieved and incredibly sad at the same time. She missed him, however hard that was for her to believe, since they had only spent one night together.

She was stunned yesterday when he had sent another beautiful vase of flowers to her apartment. They were waiting on the mat outside of her apartment when she got home, and she stopped dead when she spotted them.

I can’t do this
.

It hurt so much to pretend to the world that she cared nothing for Vlad. But her pride would not allow her to do otherwise. So when she saw the flowers, any forward movement she had made to get over him was blown out of the water.

Who are you kidding? You still feel the exact same way about him
.

Warily, she picked up the enormous vase and opened up her apartment. She set the flowers on the same table as last time, and stared at it like it was a Venus flytrap. They were orchids this time, the same type he had given her the night of the gala, and there was another note sticking out of the middle, in the same stationery that Vlad had used before. She circled the table for a few minutes before she finally snatched the note and tore it open:

She didn’t know what to make of his note, and she still didn’t a day later. But today, the fashion show had to come first over everyone and everything else, so she would tuck Vlad away into a corner of her mind, to explore when she was able.

S
he arrived
at the studio where the fashion show was being held, later than she planned. She had originally thought she would arrive just four hours before the show began, since she would have been there almost the entire previous night. But with her small hangover, and her constant thoughts about Vlad, she had gotten to the studio just three hours before the start of the show.

The models, makeup artists, and hair stylists were all due to arrive four hours before the start, so she had her first sense of foreboding when she pulled into the parking lot and the only other cars she saw belonged to Asha and Daya. She rushed into the studio, only to be greeted by absolute silence in the cavernous space, and the nervous faces of her two best friends.

“What’s going on? Where is everyone?” Her heart was racing, and not in an excited, oh wow the roller coaster has a ninety foot drop, kind of way. More like in the not so fun, I am going to throw up on the teacups ride, kind of way.

“We don’t know, Thania,” Daya said with both of her hands up in front of her like she was surrendering to the police.

Thania would have laughed if she didn’t want to cry.

“I don’t understand,” she said, refusing at the moment, to let her panic consume her. She needed facts. “This place should be teeming with thirty models, ten makeup artists, ten hair stylists. Never mind my wardrobe people—where are they?”

“Oh, we saw them!” Asha exclaimed, seemingly happy to be able to provide some positive news. “The wardrobe people went on a coffee run, and they’ll be right back,” she finished.

Despite the slightly scary thought of coffee near any of her new designs, Thania felt slightly better.

“Well, Daya,” she said, “think you can wear all thirty designs?” Thania was only half kidding, the panic she had held at bay earlier slamming into her now with the force of a tsunami.

Her hands tingled, her feet were numb, and the center of her chest hurt so much that she could not take a deep breath. Luckily, Asha and Daya recognized the signs because Thania could no longer speak.

“Okay, honey,” Asha said, as she and Daya physically guided Thania outside for some fresh air.

Once outdoors, it took a few minutes for Thania to be able to take deep enough breaths that the feeling came back in her extremities.

This is going just like I was afraid it would. ‘Former Top Designer Uses One Model in her Fashion Show: Is She Cheap or just Stupid?’

She laughed, because otherwise she would have cried, as Asha and Daya got on their phones, each calling the models after Thania had pulled the list out of her bag. Up to that point, not a single one of them had answered.

“I’m sorry, love,” Daya said, as she shook her head to the question of whether she had been able to reach anyone.

Her eyes looked so sad that Thania felt tears begin to well up in her own, but she didn’t have time for that luxury, so she quickly wiped under her eyes and moved on.

“What else can we do? Who else can we call?” Asha asked fifteen minutes later, after they had called all of the phone numbers they knew.

For some reason that she couldn’t explain, Vlad and his note from the day before, popped into Thania’s mind.

“I have Vlad’s phone number. I could call him,” Thania said to the group at large, which now consisted of her two best friends, her two wardrobe people, and surprisingly, the makeup artist she had met at the photo shoot, Len.

“You have sugar’s phone number?” Len asked, referring of course, to the fact that Vlad’s last name translated to ‘sugar’ in Russian.

Every eye was on Thania.

“Yes,” she said firmly, as she forced back any romantic thoughts of Vlad. There was absolutely no time for that now. There was an expectant silence after her one word answer.

“Well?” Len demanded, his irritation with her plain on his face. “What are you waiting for? The show to actually start with only one model?” he finished, as she happened to notice that his eggplant colored shirt matched very nicely with the lavender stripe he had put in his hair since the last time she had seen him.

“Yeah, Thania! Call Vlad, already!” Daya said emphatically, a look of panic in her own eyes by that time.

Thania knew that Daya did not want to be the only model available—this fashion show meant almost as much to Daya’s career as it did to Thania’s.

“What am I going to say to him?” Thania asked the group at large.

Again, silence.

“Ask him to help you,” Asha said, speaking for the first time in a while.

“But, how can he help me? He runs a jewelry business,” Thania said to her as sweat started to bead on her brow. She
really
did not want to call Vlad and ask him for help with
anything
, but she was getting past the point of desperation.

“Yes, he’s in the jewelry business, Thania,” Asha responded as if she spoke to a wounded animal. “That means that he most likely uses models himself for the jewelry ad campaigns. And at the very least, he knows other people in a similar business that might be able to help,” she continued, as everyone watched her take charge of Thania by helping her see through her fear.

Thania knew it was obvious to everyone at that point, that Asha was her true friend, and that they had known each other forever.

“Go ahead, honey,” Asha said to her, as she gently rubbed Thania’s arms. “It can’t hurt to call him.”

So she did.

“
V
lad
, it’s Thania,” she said, when he answered his cellphone on the first ring.

“Hello,” he said slowly in his gritty voice, and Thania flushed as she realized that he was not expecting her to call him.

And he probably doesn’t want you to.

Forging ahead, because she had no choice, she said, “I am so sorry to bother you, Vlad. I’m in a bit of a bind, otherwise I would never have called you.”

His silence was deafening to her, and she felt nauseated and needed to sit down.

“Today is the day of my fashion show,” she started to explain, her heart actually aching as she spoke.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Well, none of my models have shown up, and the show is supposed to begin in two hours! I don’t know what is going on, and we’ve called all of them, and no one has answered. Daya is the only model here, and there is no way she can wear all of the clothes. How unprofessional would that look? And the press is starting to arrive, and I’m freaking out…”

“It’s alright, Thania,” he interrupted her softly. “Just tell me what I can do.”

Her aching heart broke just a little more at his kind tone.

“I know that we’re not dating, but is there any way you can call around to some business associates and ask about their models, or even models that you work with yourself, and ask them to come to my fashion show immediately?”

She was hugely embarrassed to put him out like this, and her anxiety reached its zenith once more as he remained silent on the phone. She heard him breathing, so she knew she hadn’t lost the connection, and the longer it took for him to speak, the harder her chest constricted.

“Vlad? I’m sorry to have asked you,” she said, resigned to the fact that she had crossed that invisible line between friends and ‘something more’. And she definitely was not ‘something more’ to Vlad.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he quickly responded. “Yes, of course I can help.”

Hope blossomed within her, and some of the ache in her chest subsided—not the broken heart part, though.

“You just hang tight, Thania,” he continued in his deep voice. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you so much, Vlad,” Thania said, grateful beyond words.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, and she could have sworn his voice sounded almost sad.