Ripped at the Seams (9 page)

Before Sami could finish her sentence, the phone began to ring. “You'd better get that. It's gonna be for you,” Rain told her.

“Why do you say that?” Sami asked.

“Because he's been calling here all night, wondering where you are.”

“Who?”

“Bruce Jamison,” Rain replied. “Who else?

At the sound of Bruce's name, Sami's eyes lit up. She leaped across the room and dove for the phone. “Hello?” she said excitedly. “Oh, I'm sorry. It was all so spur of the moment. I went to Central Park with a friend to hear the Philharmonic,” she continued as she took the portable phone into the bedroom and shut the door.

Rain studied Vin's face as he watched
Sami disappear into the other room. It wasn't hard to catch the look of disappointment in his eyes. “Uh-oh. I don't like the looks of this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She's just a naive, eighteen-year-old kid, Vin. Don't do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fall for her,” Rain replied simply.

“Too late,” Vin admitted as he turned and walked out of the apartment.

Sami was the first one in the office on Monday morning. She'd brought her portfolio, just as Bruce had requested, and was anxious to show it to him as soon as he arrived. But Bruce was far from an early bird. Usually most of the employees arrived way before he did.

The day certainly started on a positive note. Ted Fromme arrived only minutes after Sami. The designer actually smiled, and called her by name.

“Good morning, Samantha,” he greeted her with her given name. Sami usually hated her full name, but hearing Ted say it in his soft Southern drawl gave it a certain
sense of artistic drama that she kind of liked.

“Good morning, Ted,” she replied. Three weeks and she was only just starting not to act nervous around him.

“Is Bruce Jamison in yet?”

Sami shook her head. “But I expect him any minute,” she promised Ted, anxious to keep Bruce out of any trouble.

“When he gets here, tell him I need those designs on my desk by Friday if he's going to have anything represented in the Fall Show,” Ted said. There was a vague sense of urgency in his voice that showed he wasn't pleased that Bruce was waiting until the last moment to deliver his work.

“Oh, I think he was working on those all weekend,” Sami lied.

Ted looked skeptical but didn't say anything disrespectful about Bruce. Instead, he complimented Sami. “That's some dress,” he drawled. “I like the way the neck is cut.”

“Thank you. I—”

But before Sami could tell Ted that the
scoop-necked tank dress was her own design, he turned and walked back toward the design offices.

It was more than a half hour before Bruce finally rolled into the office.

“Good morning,” Sami greeted him enthusiastically.

“Morning,” Bruce mumbled.

Sami looked at him, confused. His voice lacked any of the intimacy it had had on Saturday night, and his face gave no sign of his usually mesmerizing smile.

“Um, Ted said to tell you that he needs your designs by Friday,” Sami told him.

“I don't need you rubbing it in,” Bruce snapped at her.

“I'm just delivering the message,” Sami said helplessly.

Bruce took a deep breath. “You're right.” He mustered a slight smile. “Is that dress one of yours?” he asked her.

Sami nodded. “Ted told me he liked it,” she told him proudly.

“Ted has good taste,” Bruce agreed. “What did he say when you told him it was your design?”

“I didn't get a chance to tell him,” Sami said. “He was so busy.”

Bruce nodded. “Did you bring your portfolio?” he asked casually.

“Oh, yes!”

“Good.” Bruce finally gave her his bright smile. “Let's meet tonight after work, in the conference room. We can call in for sandwiches and look at your stuff after everyone's gone home.”

“That would be great,” Sami replied excitedly. “I really appreciate your helping me like this, Bruce.”

Bruce placed one strong hand on her arm. Sami could feel her whole body tingle.

“There's nothing I would rather do than help you,” he assured her with a playful wink.

Sami was certain that the day was going to take forever after that. But the truth was, time actually flew. The phone was ringing off the hook, with calls from Milan and Paris, and even Hong Kong. Sami made a mental note to call Celia and tell her she'd spoken to designer and fabric manufacturers from all over the world. That was the kind of thing Celia would find exciting.

Then, some potential models for the Fall Show arrived for go-see meetings with Ted. The girls were all so similar, with their dark, shoulder-length straight hair and long, thin, fluid bodies, that Sami wasn't sure how Ted would be able to tell them apart. But it was obvious that Ted had a specific look in mind for his show, and he had put the call out to the modeling agencies to send over the girls who fit his description. Sami had offered the girls something to eat, but not one of them had taken her up on it. Instead, they'd all asked for water with lemon.

Sami was so busy that she was surprised when Bruce stopped by her desk around six o'clock. “Everyone's gone, babe,” he told her. “Come on, let's go in the back.”

Finally! Sami's stomach jumped at the thought of Bruce looking at her portfolio. He was a professional designer. His opinion meant a lot. Her fingers shook a little as she turned off her computer and programmed the telephone lines' automatic response message. Then she picked up her portfolio and followed him into the conference room. “Do you want me to call in for
some sandwiches?” Sami asked him. “Are you hungry?”

Bruce smiled lasciviously. “Not for sandwiches,” he teased, pulling Sami close to him.

Sami blushed slightly and looked up into his moss green eyes. “Someone might see us.”

“We're the only ones here.”

“You sure? I didn't see Ted leave.”

“He had a dinner meeting with an agent from the Elite modeling agency. He left by five.” Bruce loosened his grip on her. He reached over and flicked on the radio. It was set to the local Top 40 radio station. As the sound of Shakira's newest single filled the room, Bruce's eyes grew small and questioning. “Maybe you'd rather hear some Beethoven?” he asked.

“This is fine,” Sami replied, avoiding his gaze.

“Well, you seemed so excited about going to that concert with that carpenter … what's his name?”

“Vin.”

“Oh, right,” Bruce continued. He stopped for a moment. “Did he hit on you?”

Sami shook her head. “Oh, no. It's nothing like that. He's just a friend. He doesn't think of me that way.”

“Don't bet on it,” Bruce told her. “You're so naive.”

Sami's eyes flew open. “I am not.”

“Oh, come on, Sami. You're such a trusting kid.”

“I'm not a kid. And I'm a good judge of people. Vin is my friend.
Just
my friend.”

Bruce reached over and pulled Sami close. “Well, see that it stays that way. Because I don't want anyone trying anything with my girlfriend.”

Sami looked up at him with surprise. “Your
girlfriend
?”

“Sure,” Bruce told her. “Didn't you feel it on Saturday? We're meant to be, Sami. It's kismet.”

“But you've only known me a couple of weeks.”

Bruce ran his fingers across her cheek. “I knew it the minute you walked in here. All sweetness and light, and nervous as hell. I said to myself,
There she is, Bruce. That's the girl you've been waiting for.”
He sighed gently. “Sometimes you just know it, Sami.”

Sami didn't—couldn't—speak. The idea that Bruce had felt it, too, was just so overpowering. Instead, she stared into Bruce's eyes, hoping her own eyes would communicate the joy she felt.

Bruce kissed her lightly and then looked down at the portfolio sitting on the conference table. “Well, this isn't what we're here to talk about. I think we're here to get your career moving.”

Sami nodded and unzipped the portfolio. “Do you want to see summer or winter first?” she asked him.

“I guess summer,” he replied. “That's where my mind is, since that's what Ted's been working on these days.”

Sami flipped the big pages until she came to a sketch of a summer suit that featured an asymmetrically hemmed cream-colored skirt and a black-and-cream blouse that laced across the chest. It was simple, but Sami felt it had a certain flair that made it stand out from the crowd.

“Hmm. Interesting,” Bruce said in a noncommittal way. “And what material do you see the skirt made of?”

“I thought maybe a brushed cotton that
looks like suede. So it has sort of a southwestern look, without being heavy,” Sami replied cautiously.

Bruce nodded and turned the page. He looked carefully at the design—a black A-line dress with the added excitement of a lace bodice that gave the appearance of showing far more than it really did.

“Lots of women look good in A-lines,” Sami explained. “But they're usually so matronly. I thought the lace made it more fun.”

“It does,” Bruce agreed. He turned the pages and looked at a few more of Sami's designs, stopping at a pink-and-white gingham ankle-length sleeveless dress. “This is interesting,” he said.

“That's one of my favorites too,” Sami said excitedly. “It's kind of playful, but you could wear it to the office. Well, not a Wall Street office, but just about any other kind. It makes you feel young and fresh but still look professional. See, I have another one that has sort of the same feel.” She turned the page and showed him another dress, this one made of denim, with cap sleeves and a little fringe at the bottom of the skirt.

Bruce studied the picture carefully. “Hmm …,” he mused slowly. “You know, this is what Ted is going for—mixing work and play. Maybe I could show him these two.”

Sami practically jumped out of her seat. “Bruce, would you really?”

“Hey, calm down.” He laughed. “I'll show them to him. But that's no guarantee.”

“I know,” Sami agreed. “But it's a shot. And even if he doesn't like them, maybe he'd have some comments for me. I could learn a lot from him. He's got such good taste.”

“And you taste awfully good,” Bruce teased, kissing her hard on the mouth and running his hand through her hair.

The passion was overwhelming—like a short circuit between live wires that sent sparks flying through the room. Within seconds Sami found herself lying on the boardroom table with Bruce beside her, his hands gripping her body while his tongue searched hungrily for hers. Sami felt herself melting at his touch, her body experiencing things she'd never even imagined
before. She was drowning in the taste of his mouth and the ferociousness of his touch. There was an uncontrollable hunger flowing from his body into hers. It seemed the more they clung to each other, the greater the hunger became.

For a moment, a flash of fear went through her. She'd never done anything like this before. And she wasn't certain she was ready for what Bruce so obviously had in mind.

“Bruce, I …” Sami was shocked at how far away her voice sounded. “I don't know if … I mean I've never … before …”

Bruce lifted his face from hers and looked into her eyes. “Never?” he said, surprised.

Sami blushed furiously and shook her head.

“We don't have to do anything you don't want to.”

But Sami did want to. She'd never before had any desire to sleep with the boys that she knew in high school. Not even Billy Morrison, whom she'd dated for at least three months and had gone to the senior prom with.

But now, here, with this man, she was incapable of stopping herself—even if she'd wanted to. They barely knew each other, and yet, Sami was convinced he was her soul mate. Theirs was an understanding that had happened immediately. Sami had read about it many times. Bruce had called it kismet. Others called it love at first sight. No matter what name you gave this relationship, Sami was absolutely and unequivocally convinced that it was cosmic fate that they would wind up together.

Still, even as her body began to give way, Sami's mind stayed sharp enough to know that she didn't want to wind up like Celia. “But I don't have any … any protection,” she murmured. “I don't want to …”

“Relax,” Bruce assured her. “I have what we need. I would never let anything happen to you, Sami. Don't you know that? I want to protect you. Keep you safe.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slim black leather wallet. Inside was a single condom, still in its blue wrapper.

Sami looked at him strangely. “You planned on—”

He shook his head. “I didn't plan this,” he assured her. “I just hoped. I've been hoping. Ever since I met you, Sami, I haven't thought of anything else but you and me, like this. I have to admit that the boardroom wasn't quite the atmosphere I had in mind, but at the moment—”

Just then, Sami heard the loud bell that signaled the elevator opening on the floor. Then she heard footsteps entering the reception area. Her face turned beet red. Quickly, she sat up straight and took a deep breath. “Someone's coming,” she whispered to Bruce.

“Damn,” Bruce murmured. “The janitor.”

“We'd better go,” Sami suggested.

“He'll just think we're having a meeting,” Bruce replied with certainty. “He'll be gone in a minute.”

But the mood had been broken, and they both knew it. Sami slid off the table and hurried to find her shoes.

It was very late when Sami arrived back at her apartment. Ordinarily, Rain would have been awake, hanging out with her
usual crowd of pierced and tattooed waiters and waitresses from the restaurant. But tonight, everything was dark and quiet. These days Rain made sure she went to bed right after her shift. She was determined to be in the best shape possible for the Mollie Mack show. And that meant early to bed and then early to rise for a complete work out in the morning.