Page 45 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
Without stopping, I pushed my cart through the door. I was afraid if I didn’t, I’d stop and turn right back around. “Knock, knock,” I said, forcing a smile.
Dean looked up from the work he was doing. “Hey, come on in. I just need to finish this, then I can stop.” He waved me over to the seats in front of his desk.
I grabbed my box, hugging it tightly to my chest. Up until now, Stella and Burda were the only ones to see my plans. Elaine and Adelise didn’t count, since I doubted they read the whole thing.
Chills skated up and down my arms and chest.
What if Elaine was right? What if, when he read my plan, he agreed it was as awful as she thought? Panic overtook me, and my steps faltered a few feet from his desk.
Maybe he sensed how nervous I was because he jumped up from his seat and reached for the box. “Is this it?”
I nodded, my throat too tight to utter a word.
He went back to his side of the desk and sat waiting patiently for me to do the same on the other side. I swallowed hard, not completely sure I was ready to lay my dreams out there for him to crush. My confidence would shatter if he shared Elaine’s distaste for my idea.
Carefully, Dean removed the top of the box.
Heat burned my cheeks as he took out the first item. It was the turquoise bra and underwear set I’d started the other day and ended up finishing at the boutique.
Watching the lace slide through his fingers as he turned it over, studying the design, stitching, and whatever else he believed to be necessary, caused my mind to fritz. Basic thought became a challenge. My nerves rushed to an entirely different part of my body.
Seeing him handle the lingerie I made fanned the desire I struggled to keep under wraps around him. It didn’t help when my mind jumpstarted with images of our night together. His hands all over my body, and the tingles that followed. How he made me feel perfect, and desirable, and sexy.
If I couldn’t get my body and mind under control, I was so screwed and not in the way I wanted. I wrapped one ankle around the other, forcing my knees to press together.
The deep rumble of Dean’s voice brought my attention back to him. His brown eyes were focused on me and his lips were moving. I must have missed everything he’d just said. I bet he was already questioning my ability to run this company if I couldn’t stay focused for more than two minutes around him. “I’m sorry. What was that? I’m a little nervous.”
He smiled as he put down another piece. A beautiful cream, lace bra, and underwear set that I hadn’t even noticed he’d picked up. “You have nothing to be worried about. These are really good. Your designs are impeccable, and your stitching is flawless. I love the phrases you chose to go with each piece. How did you come up with this?”
I took a deep breath feeling some of my confidence return. This part was the heart of what I was trying to do. “They just come to me. Often I start with the saying, and the design takes shape around it. It’s as though the words dictate what I’m about to create. Sometimes people need a pep talk when they get dressed. With the media and insane body standards being perceived as the norm, I want women to see a positive message about their bodies. I hope it will shape their confidence in whatever they choose to wear over it. I want everyone to know that size is a number. Confidence and being your true self is sexy.” I snapped my mouth shut.
“Why did you stop? You were on a roll there.”
“Sometimes I can’t help myself.” My hands punctuated my words as my confidence grew. “I believe in this concept with every fiber of my being. I know without a doubt this will appeal to curvy women. I just need to find a way to fund and market it.”
I continued, and he read through my business plan. “I can see that. Give me a minute to finish looking over the last few pages. Then I’ll let you know what I think.”
“Of course.” As he flipped a page over, I had to sit on my hands to stop them from pointing out various aspects on each page. Dean had been working for Prince Industries for years. He had a solid background in Business and had graduated top of his class at Harvard University. I had to trust that he would see my vision.
After what felt like hours but had only been minutes, he pushed my business plan to the side. He clasped his hands and laid them down on his desk, and stared at me. Flashbacks of my last conversation with Elaine and Adelise about my business plan popped into my head, and I mentally prepared myself for the rejection.
Silence spread between us, and I shifted awkwardly in my seat. “You hate it, don’t you?” I blurted out.
“No, I don’t hate it. In fact, I think for someone who has limited experience in writing a business plan, you did a great job.”
His praise had me sitting up straighter. Knowing someone as intelligent and savvy as him could find something good about my plan made me proud of the work I’d done. While Stella and Burda said it was good, they also loved me and didn’t use a critical eye when it came to these things.
“Thank you.” My smile grew.
“You need to work on your marketing strategy and start your rollout smaller than what you’ve quoted, but I think I could help you with that.”
I squirmed in excitement.
He was going to help me. I just knew it.
“To generate interest, I connected with a few of my business associates earlier today to see if they would be interested in investing in a start-up company. I think you have something viable, Ashlyn. The investors I spoke with are very interested in hearing your pitch based on what I told them.”
“Really? Wow, this is what I was hoping you’d say, but I was afraid to even let myself believe it would happen.”
