Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

She didn’t have a business plan, so she couldn’t run the numbers, but there were possibilities. She let herself out, careful to lock the door behind her, and returned to Paper Moon.

She tried to look at the store as if she’d never been in it before. Again, there were plenty of windows and lots of light. There was a little too much red velvet on the furniture and gilding on the chandeliers for her taste, but that was easily fixed.

The basic floor plan worked, and the inventory was current. If she had the space next door, she wouldn’t have to make any changes in Paper Moon, at least not for a while. It would provide a nice cash flow.

She knew her parents would be thrilled to have the business stay in the family and that they would let her buy them out over time. Once she got her business plan together, she could run the numbers. She had a feeling with the cash she’d gotten out of her marriage, she could make it work, financially. The question was, did she want to?

Staying meant being with her friends. Staying meant being close to her family. Staying meant the confusion of what to do about her feelings for Ford.

But staying also meant giving up on her dream of living in New York again, of being on the cutting edge of fashion. It meant returning to her hometown permanently, and right now she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing—mostly because she’d retreated here after her divorce. She wanted to be moving forward, not going back. She supposed that the biggest issue was if she stayed, she might feel as though she was giving up.

It all came down to making the choice that was best for her, given her change in circumstances.

The front door opened. She turned and saw Ford walking in with two beautiful young women. They were petite, with long dark hair and brown eyes. Their perfect skin glowed in a way that made Isabel feel she should be exfoliating more.

“Hey,” Ford said, walking toward her. He had a large garment bag in each hand. “I want you to meet Misaki and Kaori. They’re sisters.”

“Nice to meet you,” Isabel said.

She would guess the sisters were in their early twenties. Misaki had on deep purple harem pants and a black leather vest. Kaori wore a dark red dress with inverted pleats.

“Love the store,” Kaori said as she looked around. “Retro, but still elegant.” Her gaze settled on a display of a Vera Wang dress. “Man, I’d kill to deconstruct that.”

“You want to deconstruct everything,” her sister said.

Isabel returned her attention to Ford. “So, um, why are you here and why have you brought these lovely young women to me?”

Misaki grinned and took one of the garment bags from Ford and unzipped it. “We make clothes.”

Two dresses and a ball gown spilled out of the opening and suddenly Isabel didn’t care about how Ford knew the sisters or why he’d brought them. The garments claimed her attention. The dresses couldn’t have been more different. One was all draping and movement, while the other didn’t look big enough to fit a fashion doll. Talk about skintight.

The ball gown was made of layers and layers of champagne-colored lace. But the detail work was done in leather.

“That belongs on the red carpet,” Isabel murmured, touching the capped sleeve and admiring the clean workmanship.

“I wish,” Misaki said. “We haven’t had much luck placing our designs in stores. We’re too edgy for the department stores, and the one boutique we went into basically stole our clothes and paid us nothing. So we’re nervous about trying that again. Ford said we could trust you.”

Madeline walked in from the back room and gasped. “I want that. I have nowhere to wear it, and I probably won’t be able to eat for a month to afford it, but I want that.”

Isabel performed the introductions. Misaki beamed. Kaori pushed her aside. “Mine are better.”

She pulled out a suit that was both stern and playful. A fitted jacket, with zippers running down the sleeves. The wool blend was soft, with just enough structure.

“Taryn would buy that in a heartbeat,” Madeline said.

“She would buy most of them,” Isabel admitted. She looked at the girls. “Where did you come from?”

“San Francisco,” Misaki said. “We’re supposed to be studying to be doctors. Our parents aren’t happy at all. You’ve heard of the Tiger Mom? Well, our mom makes tiger moms look like slackers. Kaori and I can both play three different instruments. We got into UC Berkeley on full scholarship. But we drew the line at medical school. We just want to design clothes.”

“You’re good at it,” Isabel told her. “I’m impressed. I’ll take them all on consignment. Do you have prices?”

Kaori whipped out a pricing sheet, along with a simple, single-page contract. Ten minutes later, the deal was done.