Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Fair enough. “I take it you couldn’t sleep either?”
“No,” he said, looking at the drawings she had pinned to a corkboard over the table of designs that she’d added to her illustrator program, most of which had already been produced as garments.
She tapped the sketch pad where she’d executed her new idea. “I had a design I couldn’t get out of my head.” No way would she admit thoughts of him had kept her awake. “What’s your excuse?”
“Sleeping in a bed that’s not my own,” he grumbled. “I’m used to a king, not a queen. And a firmer mattress.”
“Awww, poor baby. You’re like the Princess and the Pea,” she teased as she reached up and patted his stubbly cheek. “You know, being so pampered that you’re sensitive to the density of a mattress. Consider your discomfort part of your penance for the weekend.”
“Damn, you’re ruthless,” he said with a grin and a shake of his head as he glanced back at the table, to the sketch pad she’d just tapped. “So, this is the design that kept you awake?”
“Yes.” She tried not to feel anxious about what he might think of the concept, but couldn’t deny that his opinion mattered to her. “If I don’t get it down on paper right away, I don’t always remember in the morning.”
He rubbed the back of his hand beneath his chin as he studied the drawing, then nodded. “I like it,” he said, meeting her gaze. “It’s very sexy and tastefully revealing.”
She smiled. His description was exactly what she’d been attempting to achieve. “I try to keep things classy, not trashy. I’m not looking to compete with Frederick’s of Hollywood.”
A small frown furrowed his brow. “Who?”
“It’s a lingerie brand founded by a man back in the 1940s and is more focused on the . . . explicit stuff. I just want the women who wear my designs to feel beautiful and desirable, and that means making sure that the construction of whatever I design can hold in the girls and flatters their curves,” she said, knowing how difficult it was to find pretty bras and lingerie that supported her fuller breasts, or even sexy panties that covered her ass instead of ending up as a thong. “I want them to love their bodies, no matter their size or shape.”
“When did you start venturing into lingerie?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“I decided to give it a try about a year ago, and it’s taken that long to launch Curvy Girl Couture Lingerie. Next month is the official launch of the line.” She hesitated a moment, worrying on her bottom lip, then decided to share her news, which she’d kept close to her chest even though there had been online speculation of the possible partnership. “I’m actually pretty excited, because I’ve been approached by a major retail brand, Belle Demoiselle, who is interested in carrying exclusive designs of my lingerie brand in their stores. We just finished a photo shoot for next month’s launch, and my fingers are crossed that the launch’s success will result in a contract with Belle Demoiselle.”
“That’s a huge accomplishment,” he said, the admiration in his voice authentic and real. “I’m really proud of you.”
“Thank you,” she said, feeling her cheeks warm at his compliment. “That means a lot.”
He leaned a hip against the drafting table, a more serious look on his face. “I know that Ben is proud of you, too . . . dare I ask about your parents?”
She sighed and absently pushed her fingers through her hair, pulling the wavy blond strands away from her face. “I think from a business standpoint, my father is impressed with what I’ve done. My mother? Not so much.”
He blinked at her in shock. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Despite my success, she’s embarrassed. In her mind, my Curvy Girl Couture designs highlight and celebrate something she doesn’t find acceptable, which is women with real curves and fuller figures.” She shrugged, attempting to come off as not caring, when her mother’s narrow views and criticism stung. “I’ve been a disappointment to her because I’m not her image of an ideal, skinny, size-two socialite daughter.”
“Your mother’s an idiot,” he said, his gaze warm and accepting. “But parental disappointment?” he drawled in a mocking tone. “I know that curse well. My two major strikes are not following in my father’s political footsteps and breaking up with Claire because I ruined the potential for both families if we’d gotten married. I swear, I will never force or guilt my kids into doing something they don’t want to do.”
“You want kids?” she asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it.
He raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Someday, with the right woman. Don’t you want children?”
She gave him a small smile but her stomach clenched at the question. “I would love to get married and have a family, but remember that PCOS I told you about?”