Page 10 of Wedding Season
One of the things she hated from the bridal industry was how women felt pressure to diet and exercise themselves into a specific-size wedding gown just so that they could spend years—sometimes the rest of their lives—looking back to those photographs of the one day when they felt beautiful. She wanted women to feel beautiful all of the time, which is what she was trying to achieve by being more selective in choosing which brides to work with.
“You need to understand how I grew up.”
Mariella noticed a vein had popped out on the edge of Luann’s temple.
“My mother was extremely thin. She was a model when she first came to this country from Eastern Europe. I took after my dad, and he was from a long line of Hungarian farmers. Working-class with sturdy bodies to match. My mother could not understand why I wasn’t naturally thin. I was taught from a young age to tame my body using whatever measures necessary. Diet, obsessive exercise, pills—whatever it took. And I did that during my modeling career, quite successfully I might add. I started my first company because I saw an opportunity in the exercise industry. But I had a skewed version of what women should look like. Mostly from my own skewed body image. I wanted a way to make women feel beautiful and comfortable, but I did the opposite. I felt the opposite.”
“So now you know better. And Alex is giving you another chance. I don’t understand why you’re here.”
“Because I’m not good at being politically correct,” Luann admitted. “I believe my heart is in the right place.” She shook her head. “I know it is. Still, I’m terrified that I’m going to screw things up when Alex is building an amazing company with a positive, affirming corporate culture.”
“Follow his lead,” Mariella suggested. She still didn’t understand why Luann had come to her, but she was reluctantly moved by the other woman’s show of emotion. It was clear Luann did care. Mariella understood the fear of disappointing the people who were relying on you. That was why she’d asked Emma to remove her name from the Wildflower Inn marketing materials.
“I asked him to take his shirt off the other day.”
Mariella blinked, certain she’d heard the older woman wrong. “You asked who to take off his shirt?”
“Alex. It was a joke. It was supposed to be a joke.”
“Did he take it as a joke?”
“No. Although he wasn’t offended. He should have been. He was mostly annoyed and told me I need to watch what I say in the office.”
“Can I assume he didn’t take off his shirt?”
“He did not, more’s the pity.” Luann covered her face with her hands for a moment. “See, there I go again. I’m all inappropriate humor. It’s my defense mechanism. Now that I’ve worked through a lot of my eating disorder issues and obsession with exercise, sometimes I feel like I’m the one walking around naked. People see me for who I am without the walls I’ve put up.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” Mariella asked although she knew the answer. At least she knew how she would feel. How she felt much of the time.
“It’s the worst.” Luann didn’t pull any punches. “I don’t want to sabotage or do anything that would hurt the Fit Collective’s chance of success. Alex has invested too much in this. I owe him for giving me a second chance when no one else would.”
Mariella drew in a deep breath. “As much as I appreciate everything you’re saying, I can’t figure out what any of it has to do with me. You must know my history with Alex. I’m the last person he would want helping.”
“You are the person I want,” Luann answered simply.
“Why?” Mariella couldn’t fathom a world where she would have something to offer Luann.
“Because you honor women’s bodies in your designs. We both know that’s a rare thing in the fashion world. A lot of designers want women to conform to some unattainable ideal. You make them feel beautiful just the way they are.”
“What do you want me to do—coach you on how not to offend people? I’m pretty new at that myself.” Mariella shouldn’t get involved in any way but she appreciated the compliment from Luann. Helping women feel beautiful gave her a great amount of personal satisfaction. Not that she was under any illusion that she could transform the fashion world, but it would be powerful for a company with the potential of the Fit Collective to embrace that idea in design. They couldn’t do that if the press they received was from Luann being unable to control her mouth.
“I highly recommend counting to ten in your head before you speak,” Mariella continued. “That’s a good start. Or make sure Alex does all the interviews and stay off social media. Whatever you do, don’t get on Twitter and start a late-night rant.”
“I want to hire you as the new creative director for the Fit Collective.” Luann flashed a smile that bordered on a grimace. “I want you to take over my job.”
ALEXHEARDTHEcommotion outside his office as he finished up a call with one of the company’s investors. He’d been at the computer since before sunrise and his back protested as he stood. He didn’t care that he worked long hours, had very little social life since he’d arrived in Magnolia, and spent most of his time out of the office working on his laptop at home.
This company was his chance. His opportunity to make a difference in the corporate world the way he knew he could. If he was being completely honest, his chance to prove to his stepdad that he should have been given a chance within the family business.
At this point in his life, he wanted to show everyone that he didn’t need his family. He didn’t need anyone but himself to find success. Disconnecting the call, he was halfway around his desk when his office door burst open to reveal Mariella Jacob standing at the threshold.
He couldn’t help glancing at her hands, which to his great relief held nothing but a cell phone and a leather purse. Not that he thought she’d barge into his office armed, but the look in her eyes was pure warrior princess. So much so that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see her wielding a sword and shield, although he reminded himself again that he was the injured party between the two of them.
Yes, her life had been ruined—possibly even more than his—after that video went viral and Amber’s PR people stepped in to take care of the rest. But it had been Mariella’s choice to down the liquor or wine or whatever substances she’d had on board that had given her the courage to interrupt a wedding mid-vow.
Her gaze found his. “Did you put her up to it?”
Glenna, the receptionist his assistant had hired last week, charged in after her. “I’m sorry,” the woman said on a rush of breath, tugging at one of her long braids. “Heather is running an errand, but I told this woman that without an appointment she couldn’t talk to you. She didn’t listen.”
