place?” he said as he shrugged off his coat.
“No, you haven’t, but thank you. I like it, too. Good thing, since I spend so much time here.”
“So you’re a hermit.”
She laughed. “Sort of. Designers don’t exactly get out much.”
“I’ll have to change that.”
“Uh, no, you won’t. Not if I want to be able to show my work for Fashion Week.” She went to the kitchen and put on the teakettle. She automatically went to her coffeemaker and added water, then turned it on.
He smiled. It meant she was thinking of him. He liked that.
She handed him a cup and took her own.
“Come on up to the workroom with me.”
Her apartment had a loft, so he followed her up the stairs. Here, it was open, with a wide floor-to-ceiling window. Lots of white, from a wall-to-wall desk to a drafting table and a bulletin board that covered one entire side of the room. Tacked onto the bulletin board were sketches of clothes. All different kinds, from men’s to women’s, fancy attire to casual. On the desk were more sketches, but all in order, like Carolina had placed them that way.
“You do it all on paper?”
“It starts that way. My mind works best in freehand. Then I transfer each sketch to a digital notepad so I can add color and refine the shape.”
“Show me how you do that.”
She sat at the table. “For example, when I went to the game the other night, I did this sketch.” She pulled out one of the sketches of him skating. “I liked the movement, the fluidity of it. It made me aware of a man’s body. The way a man is in motion.”
She turned on her notepad and scrolled through several designs. One was a suit, another slacks and a long-sleeved shirt, another casual wear. Different colors, patterns, and styles, each more impressive than the last.
“You got all these from going to a hockey game?”
She looked up at him. “Inspiration comes from amazing places.”
“Do you show these to anyone?”
“Only my assistants who are helping me create the line.”
His lips curved. She frowned.
“So why show me?”
“I . . . don’t know. Because you asked, I guess.”
“Thanks. Your process is fascinating to me.”
She pushed up and he straightened. Drew walked along and stared at each sketch, Carolina staying right by his side as he perused each one.
He looked to her as he reached out for one. “Is it okay if I touch?”
“Yes.”
He picked it up and studied it, a penciled drawing of a man wearing casual attire. Workout pants, a henley, and tennis shoes. He looked relaxed, dressed in something Drew would wear on a weekend.
He tilted his head to look at Carolina. “I like this.”
“Really?” She worried her lower lip, which pulled Drew’s attention to her mouth.
“Yes. I’d wear it.”
“Are you just saying that so you don’t hurt my feelings?”
He laid the drawing down. “I don’t say what I don’t mean, Carolina. The reason I picked it up was that it caught my eye. It’s something I’d wear on the weekend.”
He saw the joy on her face. “Thank you. I haven’t shown my work to anyone, outside of my assistants, of course. And I pay them. It helps to get an outside opinion.”
He moved along the other sketches. Women’s clothes, of course, didn’t mean a whole lot to him. But the men’s did. She had a definite feel for men’s clothing. None of it was stuffy or buttoned up. It was all casual.
“I like all of it. I’d wear all of it.”
She laid her hand on his upper arm. “Seriously. You’re not just saying that?”
“I’m serious. I think you have an eye for what makes a man comfortable, and for what looks good. Maybe in my college days I didn’t mind looking like shit, but now when I go out I’d like to look put together.” He motioned to the sketches. “These would make me feel comfortable and fashionable. It’s a marriage of both.”
She threw her arms around him. “That’s exactly what I’m going for. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear
“No, you haven’t, but thank you. I like it, too. Good thing, since I spend so much time here.”
“So you’re a hermit.”
She laughed. “Sort of. Designers don’t exactly get out much.”
“I’ll have to change that.”
“Uh, no, you won’t. Not if I want to be able to show my work for Fashion Week.” She went to the kitchen and put on the teakettle. She automatically went to her coffeemaker and added water, then turned it on.
He smiled. It meant she was thinking of him. He liked that.
She handed him a cup and took her own.
“Come on up to the workroom with me.”
Her apartment had a loft, so he followed her up the stairs. Here, it was open, with a wide floor-to-ceiling window. Lots of white, from a wall-to-wall desk to a drafting table and a bulletin board that covered one entire side of the room. Tacked onto the bulletin board were sketches of clothes. All different kinds, from men’s to women’s, fancy attire to casual. On the desk were more sketches, but all in order, like Carolina had placed them that way.
“You do it all on paper?”
“It starts that way. My mind works best in freehand. Then I transfer each sketch to a digital notepad so I can add color and refine the shape.”
“Show me how you do that.”
She sat at the table. “For example, when I went to the game the other night, I did this sketch.” She pulled out one of the sketches of him skating. “I liked the movement, the fluidity of it. It made me aware of a man’s body. The way a man is in motion.”
She turned on her notepad and scrolled through several designs. One was a suit, another slacks and a long-sleeved shirt, another casual wear. Different colors, patterns, and styles, each more impressive than the last.
“You got all these from going to a hockey game?”
She looked up at him. “Inspiration comes from amazing places.”
“Do you show these to anyone?”
“Only my assistants who are helping me create the line.”
His lips curved. She frowned.
“So why show me?”
“I . . . don’t know. Because you asked, I guess.”
“Thanks. Your process is fascinating to me.”
She pushed up and he straightened. Drew walked along and stared at each sketch, Carolina staying right by his side as he perused each one.
He looked to her as he reached out for one. “Is it okay if I touch?”
“Yes.”
He picked it up and studied it, a penciled drawing of a man wearing casual attire. Workout pants, a henley, and tennis shoes. He looked relaxed, dressed in something Drew would wear on a weekend.
He tilted his head to look at Carolina. “I like this.”
“Really?” She worried her lower lip, which pulled Drew’s attention to her mouth.
“Yes. I’d wear it.”
“Are you just saying that so you don’t hurt my feelings?”
He laid the drawing down. “I don’t say what I don’t mean, Carolina. The reason I picked it up was that it caught my eye. It’s something I’d wear on the weekend.”
He saw the joy on her face. “Thank you. I haven’t shown my work to anyone, outside of my assistants, of course. And I pay them. It helps to get an outside opinion.”
He moved along the other sketches. Women’s clothes, of course, didn’t mean a whole lot to him. But the men’s did. She had a definite feel for men’s clothing. None of it was stuffy or buttoned up. It was all casual.
“I like all of it. I’d wear all of it.”
She laid her hand on his upper arm. “Seriously. You’re not just saying that?”
“I’m serious. I think you have an eye for what makes a man comfortable, and for what looks good. Maybe in my college days I didn’t mind looking like shit, but now when I go out I’d like to look put together.” He motioned to the sketches. “These would make me feel comfortable and fashionable. It’s a marriage of both.”
She threw her arms around him. “That’s exactly what I’m going for. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear
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