“So I take it the bigwig Italian buyer liked your work?” Dean guessed.
“No, he loved my work. He said my designs were brilliant.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “That they were ‘passion in fabric form’—his words, not mine. He insisted that they were the only garments suitable for his wife, and he gave me the showcase slot.”
Dean listened as if fascinated, hanging on her every word.
“Except a week before the show, his wife left him.”
A soft curse echoed from Dean’s lips. “Oh crap.”
Emma nodded. “I ran into him hours after she left. He couldn’t stand the sight of me—not only because he’d seen all the outfits on his wife, but because I actually kind of looked like her. It must have been hell for him to even talk to me, and I figured it was all over at that point. He would withdraw his funding, someone else would take over the showcase, and I would be the typical Disney Princess, all dressed up with nowhere to go.”
“But you still held the show?”
“Because of Lorenzo.” The sense of relief from being able to share finally was worth the frustration. “He was one of the first friends I made in Italy, and he was always around. He used to visit me at school a lot. He’d take me to lunch, or let me bounce ideas off him. And because he was a model, I was able to test my designs on him when I was taking a class on menswear. He was a really good friend to me.”
Dean shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like the Lorenzo you’ve talked about.”
“Maybe he’s changed.” She snorted at the irony. “God, maybe the problem is that he’s never changed. Maybe he always had his own interests at heart, and I just didn’t see it. But he was so endearing and so charming, especially to the most influential people. And when the buyer hinted he might give the showcase to another student, Enzo was the first person I called. He let me cry on his shoulders for hours.”
“What did he do?” Dean asked with a sigh.
“He came up with a plan to save it all. Without telling me,” she said flatly. “After wiping away my tears he went to the buyer and fabricated the most elaborate lie I’ve ever heard. It was so unbelievable and implausible there’s no way anyone should’ve listened to him, but the buyer totally bought it. Enzo told him the designs were his. That I had some talent, but it was his inspiration that put the work on the level it was. And that if we went ahead with the show, with my work in the showcase, he would reveal himself as the true mastermind of the designs.”
“Oh, come on,” Dean said in disbelief. “That’s all it took? He went to the buyer and said it was his work? How is that possible? Didn’t everyone know what your designs looked like? You’d been in the program all year.”
“But that’s it. The designs weren’t like what I’d done all year. The work was daring and new, and I knew it was good even though it made me uncomfortable to claim it. So no, if anything my change of style worked in our favor.” Emma braced herself. “And finally, Lorenzo used the likeness between me and the soon-to-be ex-wife. He said that just like her, I was an ice princess, so cold and frigid that all I cared about was getting the job done. And that the best way for the buyer to get revenge on his wife was to go ahead with the show. To make sure it was as big and glitzy as possible so that she would be sure to see it, and the eye candy he’d have on his arm all night.”
Dean’s grip on her fingers tightened. “You’re not cold, Em. You’ve never been cold.”
“But I’ve never liked the spotlight, either. You know about my anxiety—just the thought of standing in front of huge groups of people makes me want to throw up. And at that moment, faced with seeing everything I’d worked for vanish, or getting to hide in the background while still doing the work I loved—it didn’t seem like a terrible choice.”
“So you’re partners? Does Lorenzo own part of the company?”
“No. After things exploded I insisted we use lawyers, and put together an official contract. Lorenzo’s position on the papers says CEO, but he doesn’t have control of the company. He does get a healthy portion of the profits, and at the time I didn’t care. I just didn’t care—all I wanted to do was design, and not have to deal with the crowds, or publicity, or any of the things that Enzo used to do so well. It was a business arrangement, and it worked. It worked for years.”
“But what about now?”
Now it got complicated. “I have to talk to my lawyers, but I think it’s less that I can fire him and more that if I no longer want him to be able to do what he’s doing, I have to dissolve the company.”
“End Fire and Ice?” Dean looked upset on her behalf. “You’ve worked so hard to make it a success.”