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Reynolds cleared his throat. “Thanks?”
“You have quite the talent working for you. But not for much longer if I have anything to do with it.”
“She is very talented,” he said and met Waverley’s gaze. “Waverley deserves to have everything she wants.”
If she wasn’t beaming before, she certainly was now as she basked in the warm wave of happiness and excitement for what the future held for her, with this man by her side, staring at her like he was.
He cleared his throat finally and turned to Nina. “Why don’t I leave you two alone to discuss the details. Nice meeting you, Nina.”
“You, too, Mr. Cavanaugh,” Nina said, and they watched him return to his office.
“Why don’t we take a seat,” Waverley said, leading Nina to the couch. “Can I get you a coffee? An espresso?”
“Maybe later. First,” Nina said, bringing out her iPad. “Let’s look over the designs. I made some notes I wanted to talk about.”
For the next hour, they talked about her designs, coming up with a business plan, a website, branding, and so many other things that Waverley’s head was spinning.
Maybe dreams really can come true. Even now.
* * *
Reynolds leaned over to grab his beer off Waverley’s coffee table, careful not to jostle Mouse, who had curled up and was purring in contentment on his lap. He hadn’t changed his mind about cats. He hated them.
Mouse, however, didn’t count. He was more rat than cat.
Not that that was any better.
“And then Nina mentioned that I should do an interview for one of the national news organizations,” Waverley was saying as she fed some material through the sewing machine, her foot expertly applying pressure as she worked. “She said I could mention my work and my partnership with the boutique, just to get some buzz going. I mean, I know I said I wasn’t going to do any interviews, but she has a point. People might want to know.”
“Sure, I guess.” He looked at his watch. Nearly midnight. She’d been working since the moment they got back to her place, taking a break long enough to eat half of the lo mein they’d picked up.
He might not know a lot about fashion and what’s in or out, but he knew that Waverley was undoubtedly talented. It took a lot of courage to do what she was doing without the formal training that Nina Brennan had mentioned, just her own natural talent.
He was incredibly proud and happy for her.
But he’d be lying if he couldn’t admit that this same talent and the opportunity presented to her didn’t scare the hell out of him. It seemed like just one more thing that was going to pull them apart. Show her their differences.
After all, he was just a gruff, uncultured PI, and she was a wealthy, cultured, up-and-coming fashion darling.
What could he offer her?
“Oh, I almost forgot. Since we’re going to be in Denver for my father’s party on Saturday, I told Nina that I would drop off some samples that she could place on the floor. Maybe even look over some new things I’ve been working on. You won’t mind? It shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”
“Sounds fine. I’ll just bring my computer and do some work.”
“That’s what I figured.” She stopped to pull a pencil from behind her ear to mark something before returning it. “And what do you think about staying overnight in Denver? We could stay at my father’s. You wouldn’t even have to see him since he usually stays in the east wing anyhow, but if that makes you uncomfortable, we could stay at a hotel.”
“Hotel,” he said. Separate wings or not, he did not want to be beholden to the man, particularly since he didn’t know how things were going to go.
“Yeah, that makes sense. You know, if this actually works out, maybe I should just buy or lease an apartment there for those weekends I might need to check in with Nina or for the occasional event.”
Stay in Denver? How long before that weekend turned into an extra day and then a week, until she was finding it easier to stay there?
“Are you going to be up for much longer?” he asked more abruptly than he intended.
She paused, the whirring sound of the sewing machine coming to a stop. “I just have to finish the hem on this. Half an hour, tops.”
“I think I’m going to head home. I could stand to grab a change in clothes.” Not that he hadn’t already brought over half his wardrobe in the past week. But it was a convenient excuse. Staying here was starting to feel too homey. Too comfortable. Enough that it was going to really hurt when it was over.
