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“Brands, department stores, boutiques.”
“Oh. Um, no, I was going to make a decision next week.”
Sylvie regarded her for another long moment.
Anna resisted squirming, meeting the older woman’s gaze.
“What would you say if I asked you to reject all those other requests and start your own line with me?”
The world rocked under her feet.
“What?”
Sylvie took a phone out of the folds of her gown and pulled up a picture. She held it out to Anna, who accepted it with trembling hands. It was a picture of her on her first day in Positano outside the silk merchant stall wearing her cream sundress as she gazed at the red fabric with loving eyes.
“This is beautiful.” Sylvie’s gravelly voice softened. “This is the kind of dress that could make any woman feel beautiful, as she should.” She took the phone from Anna’s trembling fingers and hit another button. A collage of photos sprung up, each one from a tabloid showing Anna in the clothing she’d worn in Positano. “I want you to make these dresses for Sylvie Smythe.”
Any moment now she was going to wake up and pinch herself because she had to be dreaming.
“I would love to. It’s just...”
Sylvie’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I want to make them the right way. I know making ethical clothing affordable can be challenging but it’s important to me to be involved in the whole process, including sourcing the fabric and labor.”
Sylvie’s face smoothed into an unreadable expression.The Botox probably helps with that, Anna thought frantically. How unorthodox for a woman to be told by one of the most famous designers in the world that she was going to give her a chance, only to have that little nobody set terms and conditions of her own?
And then Sylvie smiled, an even bigger smile that made her radiant in all her silver splendor.
“I think you and I are going to get along very well, Miss Vega.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THEINANEBLABBERcoming from David Hill, the slightly inebriated hotel mogul next to Antonio, rolled off him as he kept an eye on Anna, who was now conversing with a silver-haired woman. A smile tugged at his lips, despite his best efforts, as pride rushed through him. He didn’t recognize the woman on sight, but he’d asked David who she was, and he knew the name. If Sylvie Smythe had taken notice of Anna’s work, it was only a matter of time before she became a household name.
David resumed his diatribe. His hands flew out as he described the site of his next hotel and nearly smacked Isabella Cabrera in the chest.
“David!” Antonio said sharply.
“It was an accident, Tony,” Isabella said with a gracious smile for David, who had the good sense to look abashed.
“Still, my apologies, Isabella.” He rubbed his palms against his suit jacket. “I think I’ll go find some coffee.”
He scuttled off before Antonio could chastise him further for nearly hitting the mother of the groom.
“I’ve never seen David so animated,” Isabella remarked as she glided forward and hugged Antonio. Amazing how, even at twenty-nine years old, seeing his mother calmed him.
“Three glasses of champagne on an empty stomach probably had something to do with it.”
Isabella laughed. “I’m surprised you’re talking to him and not spending time with your lovely new girlfriend.”
He tensed. Reintroducing Anna to his family yesterday had gone well. But he’d sensed Isabella’s curious gaze scrutinizing them during dinner. The relentless slew of events had kept him busy all day. The post-rehearsal dinner drinks with the groom’s party had lasted far longer than he’d anticipated, and he’d opted to sleep in a guest room in case he woke Anna up. He’d entertained the idea of sliding into bed with her, waking her up with long, languid kisses...
Much as he loathed the idea, they needed to talk first.
“She’s talking with Sylvie Smythe.”
“Oh! Is Sylvie interested in her work?” At his nod, she clapped her hands together. “How wonderful! You must be so excited for her.”
