Page 41 of By A Thread

“The demand isn’t there,” Dominic said, once again answering a question I hadn’t intended for him.

“Yet,” Christian and I said together.

It earned me another smile from the man and an eye-roll from Dominic.

Christian held up one of the pant legs to me, and I ran my fingers over the material.

“Wow,” I said. The material was soft and buttery, luxurious even.

“It started with my mother. Diabetic neuropathy robbed her of sensation in her fingers. It makes buttons and zippers difficult. But she still wants to look her best. So I dabble in garments that make it easy for someone with disabilities or handicaps to dress themselves and look good doing it. We do hidden seams for people with sensory issues. Magnetic closures, extended sizing, wrap it all up in good fabrics and strong colors.”

“She must be very proud of you,” I guessed.

He grinned. “I tell her that every Sunday. She says she’s holding out for me to get married and have babies before she’s officially proud. It’s the Cuban in her. Are you married, Ally?” he asked, giving me a sinfully flirtatious wink.

“Let’s get back to what pieces you foresee using in the spread,” Dominic announced, steering the conversation back on course. When Christian led the way into another room, Dominic handed me his phone again. “Maybe if you take some pictures, you’ll be too busy to drool over the designer,” he growled.

I smiled up at him just to annoy him. “Doubtful, Dom. Very doubtful.”

14

Dominic

Ihated to admit it. But Ally had an annoyingly excellent eye. I’d spent another hour getting schooled on color and texture by an ex-pizza server who had entirely too many opinions for an admin.

And Christian James seemed all too happy to eat it up. Smiling at her. Complimenting her taste. And I didn’t like the way his gaze kept landing on the hem of her short knit skirt.

If I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the man had tried to talk her into drinks, dinner, and a quick fuck. Not that he’d have to coerce her. He was a charmer. Ally apparently enjoyed being charmed. And that set my teeth on edge.

I made a mental note to make sure not to include her in any further meetings with him. I didn’t need that kind of distraction.

“Why isn’tLabelusing the inclusion line in the story?” Ally wanted to know as soon as Nelson brought the SUV around. Her skirt rose indecently high as she climbed into the back, and I tried not to notice. But the desire to push her facedown and flip that skirt up was so strong I had to wait a beat and take a bracing breath of winter air before joining her in the backseat.

“That’s not our target demographic.” I kept my answer short and terse, hoping she’d leave me the fuck alone.

“I get that,” she said. “But what’s the harm in including it?”

Her questions annoyed me. “Fashion isn’t exactly known for being inclusive. It’s more about being special, exclusive.”

“But aren’t things changing?” she pressed, clearly warming to the topic. “Other luxury labels are doing it. The population is aging. Wouldn’t it follow that more people would be willing to buy clothing that allows them to keep their independence?”

“Have you ever readLabel?”

“Don’t be snippy. I’m asking the creative director a serious question. If the point of your magazine is to highlight what’s special, you’re missing the boat by ignoring Christian’s inclusive line. It’s human interest. It’s highlighting the diverse buyer. And it gives you an opportunity to use a model or two who aren’t the cookie-cutter clothes hanger type. It’s real.”

“People don’t want real,” I argued. “They want the fantasy. They want the dress that’s going to change their life. They want clothing that makes them feel beautiful, sexy, special, one-of-a-kind.”

“And you can’t feel that in a wheelchair?”

“Are you deliberately trying to annoy me?”

“Maybe. I’m also trying to figure out if you really believe what you’re saying or you just like arguing with me.”

“You have too many annoying opinions.”

“Take it up with your mother,” she said cheerfully.

“Why don’t we play a game where we sit in silence for the entire ride back?”