The designers secret, p.1
The Designer's Secret, page 1
Layla settled on the one decision she had to make for everyone involved, including herself. “I’m staying to help find the dress.”
“Are you sure? I got the impression you weren’t planning to be here very long.”
“I can stay.” The skepticism in Bastian’s eyes pulled out an excuse. “I’m between places in my life right now. I’m taking time to figure things out.”
Where had that come from? She was burned out and needed some time by the ocean. But why did the figuring-things-out part feel so...legitimate?
Bastian reached across the table and took her hand. “I understand what you’re saying. I’m in the process of figuring things out, too. So it’s settled. Well, almost settled.” He chuckled wryly. “I’m glad you were here to help.”
The sincerity in his eyes drove Layla’s gaze down to their joined hands.
He said that now. But would Bastian feel the same way when he found out she was Ruby’s granddaughter?
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Buttons & Lace Boutique, located in the heart of Bolan, Maryland. As the sign just outside town says, Friends and Smiles for Miles Live Here. If you’ve visited before, it’s good to see you again!
While you’re here, you’ll get a chance to catch up with the Tillbridge family and other friends you’ve met in the Tillbridge Stables series. And you’ll have the opportunity to meet our new arrivals—Layla Price and Sebastian “Bastian” Raynes in The Designer’s Secret, Small Town Secrets book two.
In this story, Layla is delivering a curse-breaking payoff. It’s the only logical solution to resolve her grandmother’s decades-old problem with a former friend and business partner. Bastian is at a place in his life of figuring out what’s next. Their journeys lead them to each other and the small town where everyone there, and two counties over, knows everybody’s business.
But with Layla and Bastian, secrets are held close. Promises are kept. Passion is unleashed. And important truths are discovered. One important four-letter L word is the key to everything.
I hope Layla and Bastian’s story makes you smile as you read about how they reach their destination. Hearing from readers is something that adds a smile to my day. Instagram, Facebook and my newsletter are three of my favorite places to connect. I look forward to meeting you there. You can find out more about me, the upcoming books in the Small Town Secrets series, as well as the connected books in the Tillbridge Stables series, at ninacrespo.com.
Wishing you all the best and happy reading!
Nina
The Designer’s Secret
Nina Crespo
Nina Crespo lives in Florida, where she indulges in her favorite passions—the beach, a good glass of wine, date night with her own real-life hero and dancing. Her lifelong addiction to romance began in her teens while on a “borrowing spree” in her older sister’s bedroom, where she discovered her first romance novel. Let Nina’s sensual contemporary stories feed your own addiction for love, romance and happily-ever-after. Visit her at ninacrespo.com.
Books by Nina Crespo
Harlequin Special Edition
Small Town Secrets
The Chef’s Kiss
Tillbridge Stables
The Cowboy’s Claim
Her Sweet Temptation
The Cowgirl’s Surprise Match
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To my real-life hero and best friend, thank you for being by my side. A long-overdue shout-out to Nadine Nagamatsu for helping bring the Tillbridge Stables and Small Town Secrets series to life. Denny S. Bryce, Michele Arris, Mia Sosa, Tracey Livesay, Tif Marcelo, Priscilla Oliveras—you are still beyond fabulous! Cathy Yardley, there are not enough words to express my appreciation for you. Megan Broderick, thank you for your patience, understanding and guidance with every book. And a huge thank-you to all of my readers.I hope this book brings you an enjoyable escape as you turn the pages. And as always, my gratitude to Life, Breath and Inspiration for providing the light and leading the way.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Excerpt from The Spirit of Second Chances by Synithia Williams
Chapter One
Layla Price downed vitamins with her coffee, trying to wake up. She’d only been at her desk a couple of hours, but her brain had already gone numb from staring at the multiple rows of numbers on the computer screen.
I hate spreadsheets.
As an accountant, that probably wasn’t the Monday-morning pep talk she should give herself. Of course she appreciated the detailed organization of the document in front of her. She just needed to concentrate.
Long minutes later, the restlessness she’d been battling for the past eight months crept farther in, trapping her in a sensation that she needed to escape.
Three more days...
That’s how long she had until she could recharge and get past whatever this was—sleep deprivation, a slight case of burnout, not enough sun. Lack of vitamin D affected motivation, didn’t it?
After inputting the wrong number for the third time, Layla released her dark curls from her ponytail and slumped back in the chair. She would agree that two plus two equaled five if it meant she could leave her office now for her two-week vacation.
Giving in to her wandering mind, the blue-white-and-gold abstract mural on the wall in front of her morphed into the perfect ocean view.
She closed her eyes, envisioning herself in her favorite orange bathing suit instead of her olive-colored dress.
The sun shining through the tinted glass windows in her third-floor office became warm unfiltered light beaming down from a cloudless sky. As she slipped off her red-soled black pumps and curled her toes into the light beige carpet, it was as if she could feel the sand caving around her toes. The cool air blowing from the vent above her desk changed into a gentle breeze.
No deadlines to meet, budgets to assess or bad client decisions to fix. Just bliss.
A muffled buzzing replaced the symphony of the imagined ocean waves, and the daydream dissipated.
Layla sat straight in the chair and followed the sound to her phone underneath a stack of papers in front of her.
A text from her younger sister, Tyler, lit up the screen.
Are you busy?
As Layla tapped in a response, sarcasm tinged a quiet laugh.
Yes.
The answer to that question should have been obvious. Tyler had emailed her a budget report late last night. And asked her to put a rush on reviewing it.
Tyler helped manage Sashay Chic as creative director, along with their stepmother, Patrice, who was the head of their family’s retail clothing company.
Some days it felt as if her sister thought she and Sashay Chic Apparel were her only accounting clients.
Dots floated in a message bubble and Tyler’s reply appeared.
I’m in the elevator. On my way up.
Seriously? Nooo. She loved Tyler, but she had a ton of things to do before temporarily handing over the reins of her business to Naomi, a semi-retired accountant who helped out whenever Layla was out of her office.
A knock sounded at the door and Tyler strode in.
Runway model perfect in a fitted burgundy pantsuit, the thumps of her blush-colored stilettos echoed as she executed a Top Model walk that would have earned her a Tyra Banks arched brow of approval.
Straight shoulder-length black hair and flawlessly applied makeup complemented her deep brown complexion. Her honey-brown eyes—a family trait Layla and Tyler had inherited from their mother’s side of the family—were framed by long lashes. A matte red lipstick highlighted her mouth. The color would have looked even more striking if she hadn’t been frowning.
Tyler dropped her purse in one of the twin teal chairs in front of the desk. “That shade of olive washes you out, and your lipstick is too pale. You need to wear a shade of plum that pops.”
“It’s good to see you, too.” Layla flashed an overly bright smile. “And thanks for dropping by to tell me I look like crap.”
“That’s not what I said.” Genuine caring and exasperation reflected on Tyler’s face. “All you need to do is pull your hair up into a messy bun, wrap a colorful scarf around your neck and freshen your makeup.”
“Sure thing. I’ll do that right after I finish reviewing the report you dropped into my inbox over the weekend. And if you’re here to bug me about it, you can walk your cute butt back out the door.”
&n bsp; “As much as I would like your stamp of approval on the budget, that’s not why I’m here. I have bigger problems.” Tyler paced near the desk. “Patrice postponed my fashion collection debut for Sashay Chic, indefinitely. And she says at next month’s quarterly meeting, the board won’t approve my proposal to revive our fashion shows or participate in the celebration of Atlanta Fashion Week.”
“That’s a lot. What happened?”
“I have no idea. I just know Grandma Ruby is behind it. She’s turned against me and persuaded everyone to go along with her.”
Layla sat back in the chair. “Grandma’s turned against you? That doesn’t sound right.”
“I know.” Tyler threw up her hands. “None of it makes sense. Before Grandma went to Nevada last week, she was excited about what I’d planned, especially the idea of paying homage to some of her past designs.”
“Did she give a reason why she changed her mind?”
“She told Patrice now isn’t the time for the company to go through a drastic transformation. But the pieces I’ve designed don’t come close to drastic. And before Grandma retired from running the company, she had seasonal fashion shows for Sashay Chic featuring new signature designs.”
“I think the collection you’ve created is perfect.”
Versatile pieces that could go from day to night were what a lot of people would love to have in their closets. There had to be something else in the mix.
“What’s Dad and Patrice’s take on it?”
Tyler breathed out a chuckle. “You know how Dad is. He’s always deep in corporate-attorney mode. He said negotiate with Grandma. Patrice recommended I don’t. She said Grandma and I are equally passionate about our positions on this, and that if I tried to talk to her, our conversation wouldn’t go anywhere because we’re too much alike.”
Alike? Tyler was an exact younger copy of Grandma Ruby, from her face to her talent, all the way down to her stubborn streak. And Patrice was right—if the two women tried to talk about it, their conversation wouldn’t go anywhere but sideways. Once Tyler or their grandmother believed in something, it was difficult to convince them to see things differently.
Layla saved the document on the screen. “You could pull the proposal from the board’s agenda before it’s voted on and introduce it next quarter. That way, Grandma will have time to settle down, and you’ll have time to find out what her concerns are and address them. Once you do, I’m sure she’ll be good with everything.”
“But we don’t have the luxury of time.” Tyler partially sat on the side of the desk. “You’ve seen the financials. Sales are declining because we’re losing our competitive edge. We need a strong signature line of original designs that will recapture the attention of our customers and attract new ones. This collection—it’s the best I’ve created. It would be a huge success in our physical stores and online. I can feel it. But because of Grandma, my work might not see the light of day. And I can’t do anything about it.”
“I wish I had the magic answer, but I don’t.” Layla got up and sat next to Tyler. She wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sorry this is happening to you.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” Hurt and frustration pooled in Tyler’s eyes. “I should have asked more questions eight months ago before I left New York and accepted this job. But I was so excited the opportunity finally happened. Becoming an executive at Sashay Chic and debuting my own collection at our stores has been my biggest dream. I know that’s probably hard for you to understand since you’re not a creative anymore, and you don’t work in fashion.”
Not a creative? The words hit Layla like a light slap. She wasn’t totally oblivious to understanding the excitement that came from bringing inspiration to life.
She’d experienced it setting up her office, choosing furnishings to complement the custom mural she’d helped design.
And she was dropped into the deep end of creativity during her annual trips to California to see Kinsley, her best friend and roommate from college.
Kinsley opened a pop-up store every March selling prom dresses and evening gowns where she lived in San Jose.
For the past three years, she’d taken a week off in September to help Kinsley sew her creations in exchange for wine, decadent meals cooked by Kinsley’s foodie husband and tons of much needed girls’ chat.
And Kinsley’s silence.
What happened in San Jose stayed in San Jose. Grandma Ruby, Tyler and Patrice might not understand that she wasn’t shunning the family business by helping Kinsley.
Playing designer and seamstress for a week wasn’t the same as actually being one like Grandma Ruby. Or like her and Tyler’s mother, Aisha, had been.
A vision of their mom in the past flashed into Layla’s mind and a ping of sadness hit.
She’d been eight and Tyler had been only three when their mom had died from an allergic reaction to medication.
Grandma Ruby had stepped in to take care of them. She’d also developed their understanding of all things fashion related in anticipation of them taking over Sashay Chic one day.
But Tyler’s creative abilities had captured everyone’s attention, and Grandma Ruby had taken her firmly under her wing.
Layla’s choice to become an accountant and not join the company had disappointed Grandma Ruby. But Tyler’s phenomenal talent had filled the void.
Just recently, Grandma Ruby had praised Tyler’s natural instincts for running the business. Why wasn’t she supporting her now?
Tyler released a long exhale and laid her head on Layla’s shoulder. “I guess I shouldn’t have assumed my experience with a large fashion house would be appreciated. Now that I’m here, I can’t just sit around and watch our company fade from existence.”
“I know it’s hard, but until we know more, there’s nothing we can do but wait it out.”
“Even though we know she’s making a mistake? No. Someone has to talk sense into her.”
As Tyler looked at her, Layla glimpsed the baby sister who would come to her with skinned knees to bandage, broken toys to put back together, and who’d cried on her shoulder as a teen after experiencing her first heartbreak.
Those things were easy to take care of, but this... “I can’t.”
“You have to. I know you can fix this.” As Tyler gripped Layla’s hand, conviction and desperation showed on her face. “When it comes to business decisions, Grandma always values your opinion. She’ll listen to you.”
Chapter Two
“I’m not changing my mind.” Ruby Morris pushed up from the wood table in her kitchen. “I have lemon pie for dessert. Do you want whipped cream to go with it?”
Thrown by the sudden change of topic from Tyler’s debut to pie, Layla sat momentarily speechless in her chair. “Yes, but—”
“I’ll make some.” Grandma Ruby spoke calmly, but the look in her honey-brown eyes reinforced that, as far as she was concerned, the conversation about Tyler’s fashion collection debut was over.
Ruby picked up the half-empty bowl with the salad she and Layla had just enjoyed with their late lunch of rice and jerk chicken.
Rays from the afternoon sun, shining through the picture window overlooking the back lawn, brought out subtle golden highlights in her dark hair pinned in an updo.
Nearing her seventy-fifth birthday, she still had an eye for fashion. The crisp black pants and royal blue sweater she wore reflected the style she’d infused into the Sashay Chic brand. And so did the ebony wood cane with silver accents she planted firmly on the bone-colored tiles as she walked away.
While her grandmother stored the salad and found the dessert in the refrigerator, Layla gathered up their dishes and put them on the beige granite counter near the sink.
When she’d brought up the topic of Tyler, she’d been fully prepared for her grandma to lay out the facts for her decision. She hadn’t expected to be shut down after asking one question: “Can we talk about Tyler’s fashion collection?”
Avoidance had never been her grandmother’s way of handling issues. And Layla had encountered something else she’d never sensed in her grandmother before. Unease.
Ruby put the pie on the opposite counter and took out a mixing bowl from the cabinet underneath. “Shoot. I forgot the heavy cream in the refrigerator. Would you get it for me?”
