Page 58 of The Innovator

A few sketches later, I took a break to check my email. The private investigator had sent information he’d gotten about my dad’s presence at the Rhode Island School of Design. Dad had been a guest judge there many times. He’d given presentations and donations to the fashion departments at RISD, MassArt, and FIT. He’d even invited me to go, but something had always come up and I couldn’t make it.

I didn’t need the investigator’s help anymore. He wasn’t as effective as I’d hoped, and I didn’t want to waste any more money.

From all the information he provided, one thing stood out. My dad had attended a talk at RISD on the last trip he made to the States—the trip where his plane went down and changed my life forever. As far as I knew, Dad had been on a business trip to New York to meet up with a few vendors. It wasn’t unusual for him to use his time well to network while he was in town.

An ugly thought popped into my head. Was his mistress at RISD? Was she a professor there? I didn’t like the way my mind spiraled out of control. For the next hour or so, I researched RISD and all its professors. I didn’t recognize anyone’s name. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe my dad’s visits to the college had just been to educate students wanting to join the fashion world. We had a well-paid internship program that was always looking for eager fashion students who wanted first-hand experience in the industry.

But something kept nudging me to continue investigating.

“Dad, is that you trying to tell me something from the other side of the veil?” I asked out loud, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to answer me.

I remembered the day I got the call from my mom, telling me Dad’s plane had crashed into the Atlantic Ocean. She’d been hysterical. Life could change in one instant. I’d plummeted into depression and trying my best to understand the misfortune placed upon my family. It had been surreal, and it took a long time for me to learn how to cope with his death. Though he was the CEO of the company, he always included me in all of his decisions.

It’s going to be yours someday. I want you to know about House of LaRue inside and out.

He’d caught me sketching an ensemble that didn’t fit in with the LaRue brand, but he didn’t dismiss it.

It’s a fantastic design, but for a different label.

My dad was right, but I never stopped creating for myself. I had several sketchbooks containing all of my designs, not knowing when or if they’d ever come to fruition. I needed an outlet to collect my ideas, and the sketchbooks served that purpose.

Though my dad recognized my heart desired something else, he didn’t force me to abandon my dream to focus on the family’s business. He kept the communication open and even asked me about my sketches when we spent time together. When I showed him a sketch of an asymmetrical dress, he smiled and said, “For another brand—the other Natalie.”

I missed him so much.

Walking over to the balcony, I stared out at the woods, which had darkened from the setting sun. Tears slid down my face. Had my dad been frightened during his last moments? Had he been in pain? Did he think of me and Mom?

Life consisted of sacred moments strung together. Some were happy, some brought lessons along with them, while others shocked your system wide awake. Images of my childhood flowed in front of me. Then images of Grayson joined in, and my heart went from pain to a burst of joy.

I was flowing on a wave of momentum.

Momentum.

I repeated the word softly, then loudly, as though I wanted the earth and the sky to know. A thrill skidded down my spine, and I knew Momentum was the name for my label.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

GRAYSON

Inside my office, I sat at my desk and logged in to my laptop. The PI had uncovered information regarding the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about. So I had to postpone our walk to see what he’d found.

Images of Natalie LaRue flooded my screen. I studied each image of her as though it was my first time meeting her. It was sort of like that, though. I was being introduced to Natalie LaRue, an elegant designer who was familiar with the tabloids and gossip.

I didn’t know how to feel about this discovery. A part of me felt betrayed. She hadn’t been honest with me.Fuck.It wasn’t as though I’d been upfront about everything, either. We all had secrets. But why did Natalie feel the need to keep her real identity hidden?

What kind of trouble are you in, buttercup?

This powerful need to protect her kept resurfacing. Was she hiding from her ex-fiancé, Rafael? He’d found her already, so why keep the identity hidden? She was Creative Director and Lead Designer for House of LaRue, a high-end fashion label in Europe. No wonder she understood the design concept. Not only that, she was the heir to this fashion house.

I read her profile. She was an only child, went to college for fashion design and business, but worked at other corporations before being employed by her father. She worked her way up from the bottom, learning from different companies. That made me smile.

That tenacity—that versatility—was what made her adapt so well to the City of Providence. She fell several steps on the corporate ladder by working for the municipality. Most wouldn’t survive the fall. She went from a powerful role to working an administrative job, dealing with unattractive things like water, sewer, and trash recycling. Why? What was the purpose? That was a drastic change in her life. It wasn’t just the salary difference—the whole mentality shift must have been uncomfortable and stark.

Audri’s comment about Natalie’s anxiety echoed in my head. I had added fuel to the surrounding fire. She was probably struggling to fit in, trying to learn her way around the new job, when I thought it would be fun to annoy her with my delays and rude remarks.

Fucking asshole.

With each new image of her, I got to see her from a different angle. One video showed her preparing for a fashion show in the backroom. She fixed the lapel of a male model before going to a female model to adjust a wide belt. Details. She paid attention to the little details. The big picture was important to get an overview of the project like I did with my miniature landmark. But details gave life to the masterpiece.

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