At Your Service - A.C. Arthur Page 0,30
she felt—confused and teetering on angry—she smiled and pushed one heavy curl of hair behind her ear. Anything was better than the obvious—that Major wasn’t with her.
The music was hip-hop, the models were amazing and the gowns exquisite. When the show was over, Nina stood, clapping just as loudly as anyone else in the room. Until Major stepped up beside her.
“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said when he leaned in to whisper in her ear.
“Glad you could finally join me,” she replied without turning to look at him.
Maurice and two other men stepped through the black curtain with smiles and partial bows as the crowd continued to applaud in appreciation of the twelve gowns they’d just been treated to. Cameras were busy clicking throughout the space.
“We’re going to go out this side door before the crowd begins to disperse. The room is set up for a press conference, but Maurice and the designers from today’s collection are prepared to deal with it. We’re just here to be seen.”
He spoke to her like he would to any other employee and Nina tried her best to accept his cool demeanor as the new norm.
“Fine. Shall we go now?”
This time she did look at him, but she ignored the way the beige jacket hung enticingly on his broad shoulders. The white shirt that molded to his chest and the matching beige slacks completed what should have been a bland outfit choice but instead, on him, was just another symbol of how attractive this man really was. He nodded at her and she stepped in front of him, walking toward the only exit she saw and praying he was following closely behind her. Otherwise it might appear that she was angry and walking away from him, something that would most likely set tongues to wagging.
“It should only take twenty minutes, then we have reservations for dinner. After that we’ll be done for the night.”
“I read the itinerary, Major. I know what we have to do tonight.”
He snapped his lips shut tightly and when she thought he might give a different retort, the first of the reporters filed into the room. Maurice came up behind them and Major clapped one hand on his brother’s shoulder while shaking the other.
“Another slam dunk,” he said.
“You bet your ass!” Maurice replied. “Cordell and Expo are phenomenal designers. This limited Spring in the City line is going to do great, especially once it hits the overseas market.”
As if to magnify his words, Cordell Spriggs and Expo—one name only—the designers who had walked the runway and taken their bows with Maurice, came up to join them.
“Congratulations,” Nina said, looking at each of them. “The dresses were fabulous.”
“Thanks,” Cordell said. “You should wear one to something. Maybe as your second outfit at the reception. We can make some changes, cater it specifically to you and your theme. Have you selected a theme for the wedding yet?”
Her mouth opened then shut, and then she simply shrugged. “Not just yet. But your gowns have definitely given me some ideas.”
“It’s time to get the press conference started,” Major interjected. “We don’t want to mess up our timeline.”
“He’s right,” Maurice added after a questioning look between Major and Nina.
Maurice stepped up to the podium, an act that quieted the crowd already assembled in the room.
“Thank you for coming this afternoon. Now, as promised, for the next fifteen minutes, we’re going to take a few questions.”
A woman in the front row raised her hand and immediately stood.
“I have a question for the new addition to the Gold family, Nina Fuller,” she said pointedly. “What’s it like working with your fiancé? You’ve joined the Gold family on two levels—business and pleasure. How did you and Major manage to keep not only your engagement but also your new business partnership a secret for so long?”
Silence filled the room as all eyes rested on her. For a few seconds, Nina wondered if she should speak and, if so, what she would say. Maurice came to the rescue.
“Let me clarify, Cordell, Expo and myself will accept questions about today’s show.”
“Then why are they here?” the reporter persisted with a nod of her head at Nina and Major. “Are they just showpieces for the company?”
She was brash and persistent, wearing a black jumpsuit and red mules on her feet. The way she was staring at Nina said she knew something that nobody else knew. Or that she was making an assumption that maybe others were too afraid to make.
“If the Fashion