Page 6 of Christmas in Watch Hill
FOUR
NORA
Ishould have knownbetter.
That thought—five simple, little words ran through my head like a ticker tape machine, playing on an endless loop. I should have known better than to sign up for this blasted fashion show.Never again.
“Come here,” I called to one of the models in the backstage area of the main ballroom of the Cincinnati Women’s Club. “Let me fix that outfit.”
The teenage model sauntered toward me wearing a leather pencil skirt, crushed velvet blazer, a pair of over-the-knee boots, and a few other accessories that gave her what I hoped was a pulled-together-as-if-I-don’t-care look. With a careful eye, I twisted the skirt and unbuttoned the jacket until the final touches of the outfit satisfied me.
“There. Now you’re ready.”
I pointed the model—Julie? Helen? Marie? —in the direction of the entrance to the runway. A few feet away, the assistant who’d been assigned to me from the Junior League gestured to another model ready to go, and I gave my nod of approval. Six women had already sauntered down the walkway; another four to go and my contribution to the Junior League fashion show would be over. Next year, if they asked me to participate, I would have to say no. While I supported Children’s Hospital and knew the league did a lot of important work, dressing models and styling outfits in the waning days of the holiday shopping season was just too much effort. I barely had enough time to run The Pink Box as it was. Next year, I would have to make some sacrifices on behalf of my business.
IfI was still in business. My breath caught in my throat as I realized I probably wouldn’t be. Since getting the email from Chadwick Properties, I’d reached out to them three times to get an extension on the rent increase. I’d even composed a sad, plaintive email back to the company, hoping that someone would feel sorry for me. But my pleas hadn’t been heard. I needed to face the reality of my situation.
Don’t think about that right now. Not yet.
Pushing that worry from my mind, I sent the rest of the models down the catwalk, joined them for the finale, and finally breathed a welcome, relaxed sigh as my contribution to the fundraiser was over. While it had felt like an honor to participate back when they’d asked me in the fall, I hadn’t taken into account all of the coordination, effort, and attention that would happen during what I would have argued were the most important shopping days of the year. The holidays were stressful enough, and this added to it.
Big time.
“Whew, I am exhausted,” I said to the Junior League volunteer. “I’m going to get a drink.”
Giving her a small wave, I left the backstage area and wandered to the mahogany bar in the far corner of the room. The fashion show continued and the emcee introduced a downtown menswear shop specializing in bespoke hats and ties. I asked the bartender for a Bloody Mary, rolling my shoulders a few times as the tension in my back released. I didn’t often drink during the daytime and couldn’t remember the last time I’d had one, but a thick cocktail of tomato juice, vodka, salt, and other spices sounded perfect. When the bartender handed over the drink, I chugged down a large gulp.
“Hey there, Nora.”
I jumped, then turned in the direction of the voice. “Scott, what are you doing here?”
“What everyone else is doing.” He held a glass of dark beer and nodded at the runway in the center of the room and the father-son model combination currently walking down it. “Getting the scoop on the best holiday fashions and upcoming spring looks, of course.”
“Well, I can tell you that cream is big this year, along with color blocking, but you don’t want to overdo that.” I widened my eyes for emphasis, knowing I was flirting with Scott a little, and enjoying it immensely. “That can cause you major problems, and by the middle of next season, you won’t want to wear anything that’s in your closet.”
“Sounds serious. I’ll try to remember that advice.”
“You better. We can’t have any fashion disasters in your future.” I laughed, noticing the relative easiness of this conversation. It had been a long time since I’d felt this comfortable around any man, but something I couldn’t place about Scott made me feel relaxed. “Honestly though, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I designed the invitations, and they gave me tickets as a thank you. I didn’t have anything else to do, so”—he spread his hand— “here I am.”
“Not having anything to do sounds amazing. Especially right now, during the holidays. I can almost always think of something that needs to be done.”
“Well, you know . . .” He shrugged. “My office has shut down until after the New Year, and I don’t have any plans until my family gets together for their annual dinner.”
“Do they live around here?”
