Here With You (19 page)

She took it out and flipped through it, trying to see the designs objectively. Only
it was hard to see anything beyond the fear that gripped her throat.

She swallowed it down and put the sketchpad away. There was no way she could be a
lingerie designer. She had no training, she just knew what she liked—it was crazy
even to think about it.

Just as crazy as believing she could keep a world-renowned rock star happy when she
wasn’t even sure what made
her
happy.

Chapter Twenty-two

Nicole paced in Romantic Notions, in the narrow lanes between the dressers and tables.

Three days.

Three days since Grif left.

Three days of sadness.

Three days of excessive thinking, which was totally
not
her style.

Three days, and still no answers.

She heaved a huge sigh. If she went on like this, she was going to go crazy, not to
mention that Grif would eventually find another woman who'd want him enough to give
everything up.

He didn't need a woman like that. He needed a woman who had a backbone, who had life
in her. Who existed beyond Grif and his world.

Nicole wanted to be that woman.

She shook her head. How could she have ever doubted that? He came to her for help.
He pretty much admitted she had what he needed, and she sent him away.

She sent away the one man she'd loved all her life.

She smacked her forehead.

The door jingled as someone entered. She whirled around, heaving a sigh of relief.
"Valentine, I'm
so
happy to see you. I need help."

"That's what I gathered from your text." The former matchmaker unwrapped her scarf
and flashed her impish grin. "All the exclamation points after the word
help
were a clue."

"I didn't want to be vague." She hugged her friend and then held her at arm's length.
"I need a passion."

"You've got more passion in you than most people I know."

"But I don't stick with anything." Nicole let go and began to pace again. "I'm screwed
up, which doesn't make sense at all because my parents have always been wonderful
and supportive."

"Some chicks stay in the nest longer."

She stopped and stared at her friend.

Valentine shrugged. "I'm no good at analogies, but that's not the point."

"No, the point is I'm twenty-eight years old and still don't know what I want to be
when I grow up."

"What brought this on?" Valentine set her purse on a table. "You've always been happy.
Since the day we met, I've envied you because it's like life doesn't touch you. What
happened?" Then her eyes widened. "Griffin Chase."

"He did something to me. The thing is, I think I needed it." Exhaling to get rid of
her nerves, she waved at the counter. "Look at it and tell me what you think."

"At what? This sketchbook?"

She nodded grimly, averting her eyes because she didn't think she could deal seeing
her friend's expression as she went through the designs. Valentine had started off
as a matchmaker because of a family obligation, but it turned out she really had a
brilliant business mind. She'd helped her husband launch a line of protective gear
for fighters, and she herself designed apps for the iPhone.

Turning her back, Nicole fiddled with one of the displays, trying not to listen to
the crinkle of pages as Valentine turned them. But it went on and on, and she knew
there weren't
that
many designs, so finally she whirled around. "You're killing me!"

Valentine looked up, her large eyes blinking in surprise. She pointed at the pad.
"These are great."

Nicole wilted. "You aren't just saying that?"

"Of course not."

"Do you think"—swallowing her fear, she asked the question quickly—"Icouldstartmyownlingerieline?"

"What?" Valentine asked, her brow furrowing.

"Start my own lingerie line." She put a hand to her heart, afraid it was going to
beat out of her chest. "Is it worth it to try?"

Valentine's expression softened. "It's always worth it to try, Nicole."

"Not if you're going to fail."

"How do you know if you'll fail if you don't try?" Valentine shook her head. "Or just
decide you're going to make it happen. Why do you have to fail?"

She frowned. "Good point."

"I don't know what it takes to get a lingerie line started, but let me do a little
research." Valentine took out her ever-present phone and began tapping at it. "In
the meantime, I need you to put together a business plan."

"A business plan." She nodded, even though she had no idea how to do it or what it
encompassed. "Okay."

Valentine grinned. "Look up samples online. Basically, you just want to declare that
you're going to conquer the world, and how you plan to do it one panty at a time."

"I can do that." She nodded. Then she threw her arms around her friend. "I love you."

"You'll love me more when I turn you into a lace mogul." Valentine's expression became
somber. "I think this lingerie idea is perfect for you, but I'm not sure how it's
going to get you Griffin Chase."

She cleared her throat. "I was going to mention that I need to run my business from
wherever I am in the world."

Valentine smiled slowly. "So you're free to travel with him all over.
I like it.
Make that one of the stipulations."

The front door chimed, and they both looked up to find Eve in the doorway.

Nicole knew Eve mostly from Olivia, because they were such good friends, but she'd
always liked the café owner, even though Eve was a shoe girl rather than a fellow
lingerie aficionado.

"You've got a stalker," Eve said. She smiled. "I think it's innocuous, but I thought
I should let you know."

Grif? Nicole frowned. It couldn't be. She knew from her mom, who'd heard from Grif's
mom, that Grif was in L.A. recording the rest of his album. "Who is it?"

"A teenager named Rachel."

"Rachel?" She blinked in surprise. "Small girl, dark hair, sad eyes?"

"You know her?"

"Yes, but she doesn't seem like a stalker." Nicole looked at Valentine.

Who hugged her. "Go. I'll get started on my research. Let's meet tomorrow after you
get off work."

A lightning bolt of fear shot through her, but it was laced with excitement. She nodded
even though she kind of felt like throwing up. "Tomorrow after work."

"Good girl." Valentine beamed at her. "I have a good feeling about this, Nicole. Prepare
to become a mogul."

"I'd settle for making a living doing something I love." She walked them out of the
store and locked it up. "Thanks, Valentine."

But her friend was already walking back to her apartment, in a daze, fiddling with
her phone.

She shrugged and turned to Eve. "Rachel's in Grounds for Thought?"

"She was when I left." The blonde sighed. "I think she's cutting school. She's been
in there every day this week, from early until about three. And she looks like she
lost her best friend."

Nicole's heart bled for the girl. She understood what that was like.

They walked into the café. Eve nodded to the front window, where Rachel sat alone,
staring at a notebook open in front of her. Giving Nicole's arm a squeeze, she retreated
to the counter.

Taking a deep breath, Nicole strode to the teenager's table, pulled out the chair
across from her, and sat down.

Looking up, Rachel's mouth dropped open.

Nicole hid her amusement. "I hear you might be planning to rob Romantic Notions."

"Aaron said the same thing," the girl mumbled, slumping in her seat. "But I'm not."

Something was very wrong. Rachel had seemed sad each occasion they'd interacted, but
something was different now. She seemed beaten—not physically, but emotionally.

Not sure how to proceed, Nicole decided to start off light. "You mean you don't like
your new underwear enough to rob the store?"

The girl blinked, then she pushed her shirt's collar aside to bare a polka-dotted
strap. Leaning forward, she said, "I really am a lingerie girl. I think my mom was,
too, because she had drawers full of underwear."

"Lingerie girls are the best." Nicole smiled.

"My mom was the best."

The way she said it, Nicole knew the girl had lost her mother. She imagined not having
her mom around, and she had to swallow the sudden sadness. "How long has it been?"
she asked somberly.

"A year and a half." Rachel looked up at her with eyes stark with pain. "They say
it gets better, but I think they lie."

She nodded. "If my mom died, I'd be devastated."

"I know, right?" The teenager leaned forward. "No one gets it. They keep telling me
I'll get over it, but that's stupid."

"At the same time, you have to learn to live with it," Nicole said delicately. "Your
mom wouldn't want you to have a crappy life because you missed her. Think about it."

Rachel frowned, toying with the corner of a page in a blank notebook. "She wouldn't
like me torturing my dad either, but he's not being nice to me either. He's
dating
someone."

Nicole tried to picture her dad dating someone else, and her stomach clenched painfully.
"But you don't want him to be miserable and loveless for the rest of his life, do
you? Does he deserve that?"

"No," came the grudging answer. The girl looked up with blazing eyes. "She won't be
my mom though."

"If she's smart, I bet she'll just want to be your friend, and it's always nice to
have more friends."

Rachel didn't look convinced but she nodded.

"So." Nicole tipped her head. "Why have you been sitting here, watching the store?"

The girl hesitated, but then she visibly gave up. "I was waiting for Griffin Chase."

Weren't they all? Nicole shook her head ruefully. "He left."

Rachel looked so crestfallen that she wished she could take her words back, even though
they were true.

"Is he coming back?"

Nicole shrugged. "Did you want his autograph?"

"I wanted to give him this." She pulled out a mangled piece of paper from her pocket.
Spreading it open, she pushed it across the table.

Nicole picked it up. A poem. She read it quickly, surprised that it was actually good
if heartbreaking. "Did you write this?"

"For my mom." She girl swallowed audibly. "She loved Griffin Chase, and I thought
if I could get him to sing a song for her..."

Nicole heart broke. "Can I take this?"

Rachel shrugged. "He's gone. It's not like it matters."

"I'll make sure he gets it."

The teenager gaped at her.

"I mean it," Nicole said. "I can't promise he'll put it in a song, but he'll get it.
At the very least, I'll make sure he signs it and sends it back to you."

The girl continued to just stare at her. Then she jumped up and grabbed Nicole in
a hug.

She hugged Rachel back, sad for her, but optimistic. "You're lovely, Rachel. I didn't
know your mom, but I bet she'd be sad if you just gave up on life because she was
gone. She wouldn't want that."

Rachel buried her head in Nicole's shoulder, holding her tight, her body shaking.
Then she stood upright, wiping her face and nodding. "You're right. She'd be totally
angry at me for how things are."

"Then fix them." Nicole smiled. "At the core, we lingerie girls believe in dreams
coming true."

"Okay," Rachel said tentatively. Then she straightened her spine and said more firmly,
"Yes. I'll fix it all."

"Good."

She looked at Nicole hopefully. "Did you really mean it about Griffin Chase?"

"Yes." She sighed. "But I'm not on his list of preferred people, so I can't guarantee
much."

"You're a lingerie girl," Rachel said. "You just said we make our dreams happen."

"You're right." Nicole smiled, sitting up straighter, too. "I should listen to myself
more often."

Chapter Twenty-three

Rachel ended up spending the day at Romantic Notions. Nicole told her she could help
with displays as long as she promised that she wouldn't cut any more school.

It was an easy promise to make.

Nicole's boss, Olivia, came in early in the afternoon with her baby Parker. Rachel
had no idea what to do with him at first—she'd never been around small kids—but he
was so cute with his big bright eyes and gurgly laugh that she decided he was okay,
even if he did drool on her.

Olivia had been super nice, too. She and Nicole even discussed letting Rachel work
there for a couple hours two or three days a week. Rachel had wanted to throw herself
in Olivia's arms. It was contingent on her getting her father's okay, which was really
iffy at the moment, but maybe if she begged.

She walked home shortly before her last period would have let out, feeling weird.
It took her a moment to realize the weird feeling was happiness. For the first time
since her mom died she felt like
she
wanted to live. She inhaled the air, and it smelled like roses. In New York, the
streets never smelled like roses.

Maybe San Francisco wasn't as bad as she originally thought. She thought of Aaron
and the way he held her hand and nodded. San Francisco definitely had good things
about it.

Smiling, she let herself into the house and went to the kitchen. "Hey, Iliana, I'm
home."

Except instead of Iliana, her dad was waiting for her.

She stopped abruptly, her smile fading as she saw the expression on his face. If she
thought he was angry the morning after she'd snuck out, it was nothing compared to
how he looked now. His arms were crossed and his jaw was tight.

He knew she'd been cutting school.

Of course he did. She hadn't done anything to keep him from finding out except erasing
the automated message the attendance office left on their answering machine. Her therapist
in New York would have stated that Rachel wanted her dad to find out.