For the Love of Sami (16 page)

"You do, huh?" His laugh was once more relaxed and indulgent.

"Oh, yes. He’s going to be a brilliant lawyer. At times, he can be a little too serious and conservative for such a young man, and I do worry about that, but in spite of it, he would be a great asset to any law firm."

"In spite of it?" He chuckled. "Well, bring him around, and we’ll see what we can do."

"Thank you, Daniel."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being you."

#

"Mademoiselle! You must stand still if you expect me to get this hem taken up in time for you to make your party."

"I’m sorry, Henry."

"It’s Henri, mademoiselle," the little man sitting on the floor at her feet announced in a tone of long-suffering. "Please call me Henri."

Sami rolled her eyes toward Jerome, who was lounging on one of her lavishly carved medallion-back Victorian sofas, watching the proceedings with quiet amusement. They both knew Henry was from Brooklyn, and even with a mouth full of pins, his accent could not be mistaken for French.

Henry, or Henri, was from an exclusive fashion house in New York that Morgan had recommended, and Sami had to admit that he was very good at what he did. He had brought an entire rack of originals with him for her selection and had patiently stood by while she had discarded first one and then another.

Or maybe, Sami decided wrly, ‘patient’ was not the correct word to use to describe Henry’s temperament. Sami glanced around the room and spied Eugene. She gave him a sweetly gentle smile. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No. ma’am. I’m just fine." The big man’s voice was deep and gruff, but a faint stain of a blush crept up his face as he answered her.

She had looked out the window about an hour earlier and had seen him on the street corner. It was such a cold night, she had decided to invite him in, since she was obviously the reason he was on the street corner anyway.

Her eyes went back to Jerome, who was already dressed and looking very handsome in the evening clothes she had insisted on buying for him. "What do you think?" she asked, indicating the dress she had on. "Do you like this one?"

"Mademoiselle Sami! You can not be thinking of putting on another dress at this late date." Henry sat back on his heels, horrified at the very thought.

Jerome ignored him. "To tell you the truth, Sami, I didn’t think it was possible, but that black actually makes you look sort of drab."

"Really?" She walked a few feet to the standing mirror, unmindful of Henry who had to follow her on his knees, holding the needle that was still attached to the hem of the dress.

Peering at her image, she wrinkled her nose. "I think you’re right. Snerts! I was hoping the black would create a more sophisticated image for me, and the diamonds would have looked rather interesting against it." With Henry again crawling after her, she walked back to the rack and went through the dresses. "I wish Morgan were here." She glanced over her shoulder at Jerome with a vaguely worried expression. "Where is she, anyway? She and Jason were supposed to be here by now."

"I don’t know. Do you want me to give her a call?"

"Call?"

"Telephone. You remember. Alexander Graham Bell. AT&T."

"Oh, well. . . uh . . ." A knock on the door saved her from having to make a decision regarding the dreaded telephone. "Oh, good, that’s her." Sami practically raced to the door, and in the process jerked the needle out of Henry’s hand. Flinging open the door, Sami found Coretta, the hairdresser she had arranged to have come to the loft and do her hair. "Oh, great, Coretta, you’re here. And not a minute too soon. I’m about to change my dress, and then you can get started."

"No! You can’t!" The anguished wail came from Henry. "I don’t have time to make any more alterations."

"Sure you do. Henry," Sami soothed. "We’ve got plenty of time. All of these clothes are my size anyway. I’m sure all you’ll have to do is take a nip here and a tuck there."

Henry put his hands on his head and moaned. "Nip here and tuck there, you don’t understand—"

"You don’t understand!" The booming voice came from Eugene, who had suddenly risen and was advancing on Henry with menacing intent. "Miss Adkinson wants to put on another dress."

"It’s all right, Eugene. Henry’s from New York." She imparted the information as if it explained everything. "Coretta, this is Eugene, Jerome, and Henry." Sami introduced each person as he came into her line of vision.

Jerome and Eugene nodded to Coretta, but Henry sniffed. "How do you do, and my name is Henri."

"Sorry, Henry, I forgot," Sami apologized absently, already back at the dress rack. "Here’s one I didn’t see before, and I really like it, don’t you, Jerome?" She held up a satin sheath in a dull gold color. It had a high neckline that would show off her jewels to perfection, and the back dipped provocatively to the waist.

"I think that’s the one," Jerome declared decisively.

"Me, too. While I’m changing, Jerome, move a table over there in the center where Coretta can set up, then Henry—or rather, Henri"—she corrected as she heard a snort of impatience from the man—"can do whatever alterations he needs to do while I’m standing there."

Retiring behind her dressing screen, she peeled off the black dress and replaced it with the gold. The satin slid fluidly down her body, narrowly hugging and positively accentuating as it went, and with a slit up the side, it had a leg-revealing allure.

Jerome’s whistle when she walked out from behind the screen reaffirmed her decision. "You’ll knock them dead, honey. And that color looks great with your hair."

"Great!" Sami exclaimed happily. "I think we’re making progress. Eugene, could you bring over a few of those cases for me, please? I think I’ll put some of the jewels in my hair. Henry, I believe all you’ll have to do is take up the hem. I promise this is the last dress I’ll put on. Coretta, there’s a high stool over there in the corner. I think you could work on my hair better if you were sitting on it. Jerome, where do you think Morgan is? Oh, well, we’ll give her a few more minutes. She and Jason were going to get dressed for the party before they came over here. I wonder if she found a nice maternity evening gown. It’s terrible the way designers discriminate against pregnant women, making them look like they’re wearing Farmer Jones’s barn or something. Henry, you really should think about doing something nice in maternity wear."

"I might if my name were Henry," he mumbled, starting on the new hem.

"Oh, good, Eugene, thank you," Sami opened one of the cases he sat in front of her and perused the contents. "Nope, the sapphires are definitely out. Let’s see what else we have, Eugene." He placed another case on the table.

"Miss Adkinson, you’ll have to keep your head still so that I can brush your hair," Coretta instructed.

Eugene growled, and Coretta jumped. "No, she’s absolutely right, Eugene. Ummmm . . . the rubies won’t do either. And … good heavens! I had forgotten about the tiaras! Do you suppose everyone would curtsy to me if I wore one?"

Eugene answered. "If you want them to, they will."

Sami cast him a totally blank look. "What was that, Eugene? You know, maybe that case over there will have something I can use."—she pointed to the one she meant—"You see, Coretta, I want to wear my hair up, perhaps with a few baubles here and there."

"A few baubles here and there," Henry snorted to himself, sitting on the floor, already busy with the hem.

Eugene reached down and took a handful of Henry’s shirt, raising the man about a foot off the floor. "If Miss Adkinson wants a few baubles here and there, she can have them. Understand?"

"Here," Sami exclaimed happily, completely missing Henry’s terrified expression as he was dropped back to the floor. She held up a long rope of diamonds to Jerome and found him nearly convulsed with laughter. "What in the world are you laughing at?" she questioned with a frown.

"Sorry," Jerome choked out. "I guess I was letting my mind wander."

"Well, pay attention. Here, Coretta"—she slung the rope of precious stones back to the bemused hairdresser—"You could loosely knot my hair and loop these through it. What do you think?"

"It will look stunning, but you’re going to have to stand very still," Coretta admonished with an apprehensive glance in Eugene’s direction.

He growled, and Coretta jumped again.

"Are you hungry, Eugene?" Sami asked. "Why don’t you go look in the refrigerator? I’m sure there must be something in it. Jerome, you’re going to get wrinkled if you don’t sit up straight, and you’ve got to stop hitting your knee like that. Are you nearly through, Henry?"

"It’s Henri!" he snapped. "And no, I’m not!"

"Well, hurry up. We don’t have much time. I think I’ll wear the emeralds. What do you think, Jerome?"

She held up the necklace to the set. Large, flawless diamonds created clusters of flowers and made up each link of the necklace, with huge, perfectly matched, teardrop emeralds hanging from each. The earrings were composed of an even larger diamond flower cluster, and an equally huge teardrop-shaped emerald.

"Magnificent," Jerome pronounced, wiping away tears of mirth.

"Good," Sami nodded with satisfaction and picked up one of the many emerald-and-diamond rings on display in another case. Just then the phone rang. "Oh, snerts. Who plugged in the phone?"

"I did, Miss Adkinson," Coretta admitted. "When I was over there getting the stool, I noticed that someone had forgotten to plug it in."

"Miss Adkinson doesn’t like the phone plugged in." Eugene told Coretta.

"That’s okay," Sami murmured distractedly, and reached up to twist a strand of her hair but found most of it was already in the coil on the back of her neck. "I wonder who it could be?"

"In New York we have this quaint custom," Henry muttered. "We answer the phone and find out."

Eugene grabbed a handful of Henry’s hair and pulled his head back. "How would you like your mouth sewn shut?" he asked the frightened man in a savagely low snarl.

"Jerome, where are you going?"

"I thought I might answer the phone, Sami. Hello . . . Jason? . . . Oh, no—"

"What?" Sami hurried to his side, leaving Coretta and Henry very much in the lurch.

"Is she okay? . . . How long . . . ?"

"Is it Morgan?" Sami tugged on his arm. "What’s happened to her? It’s not the baby, is it?"

Jerome covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "Morgan’s gone into labor and is at the hospital."

Sami’s eyes widened with alarm. "Tell him we’ll be right there." Even as she heard Jerome telling Jason what she had said, she turned with crisp decisiveness toward the three people. "Eugene, we’ll go in Jerome’s car. There’ll be more room. Coretta, you can sit behind me in the back seat and finish my hair. Henry, find the shoes you brought to go with this dress—"

"But I’ll never be able to find them! You’ve got everything tossed in one big mess over by the rack. I had them so nice and neat—"

"Find the shoes, Henry," Eugene told him.

Henry sulked over to the dress rack, muttering all the while. "What they say is really true. There is no real civilization outside of New York."

"Coretta, see if you can tell how much of this hem is left to be put up."

Jerome walked up to Sami. "Did Jason say anything else? Is Morgan okay?"

"She’s fine. She’s been in labor for a while. She didn’t want him to call, but he knew you, and he knew he had better."

"Well, it’s a good thing one of them is thinking straight over there! Can you imagine, Morgan having a baby without me?"

"Honey, I don’t think that baby understands the need for you to be there before it’s born. Jason said that even though the baby isn’t due for a few weeks, it wants to be born real bad."

"We’d better go, then. Coretta, how’s the hem?"

"Almost finished."

"Henry, the shoes?"

"I found one," he called excitedly from under a pile of dresses.

"Find the other and let’s go. Eugene, grab the jewelry. Jerome, we’re taking your car. Can you get my full-length sable from out of that wardrobe over there?"

"Boy, when you decide to come out of the closet, you really do it, don’t you?" Jerome laughed admiringly.

"Coretta?" Sami questioned.

"Hem’s done."

"Okay, get your hair stuff. Henry?"

"It’s Henri and I’m still looking!"

"Then you’ll just have to follow us to the hospital when you’ve found it. You can take my car. It’s the MG downstairs, and the keys are in it. Eugene, you had better stay behind and come with Henry, since he doesn’t know where the hospital is."

"No! I mean, no." Henry immediately amended the tone of his voice as Eugene swiveled toward him. "Look," he cried triumphantly, "I found the other shoe."

#

Sami and her entourage arrived with all the flourish of a traveling circus. Hospital attendants, nurses, even doctors, stopped what they were doing to stare at the good-looking young man who was dressed in evening clothes and carrying what looked to be a priceless fur coat over his arm.

A hulk of a man came behind him with his large hands filled with what appeared to be a fortune in emeralds. Then there was another rather odd man who had a pincushion on his wrist and a gold satin shoe in each pocket. Bringing up the rear was a rather harried-looking woman with a comb and a brush in one hand, a mirror in the other, and hairpins jammed in her mouth.

And in the middle of them all, there was an extraordinarily beautiful, golden young woman with diamonds threaded through her honey-colored hair and no shoes on her feet.

Sami noticed none of the reaction. She saw Jason, and with a cry, ran straight into his open arms. The tall, dark, and handsome man closed his arms around her slight body. "Morgan’s okay, Sami." Jason’s voice was filled with emotion. "It’s all over, and we have a son."

"A boy! Jerome, did you hear that? Morgan’s baby is a boy."

Jerome came up behind her. "I heard, honey. Congratulations, Jason."

"Thanks."

She peered anxiously into Jason’s warm brown eyes. "Is he okay?"