Here With You (A Laurel Heights Novel)

Epilogue

One year later...

Dim lighting.

Gauzy curtains.

The fizz of champagne.

The buzz of conversation and laughter.

A deep red runner, sprinkled with white rose petals.

Grounds for Thought was transformed into a romantic bower.

All for her.

Nicole exhaled, trying to blow the huge butterflies out of her belly. This was the day she'd been working feverishly toward for the past year, and now that it was here she just wanted to get it over with.

What if she bombed?

What if the critiques called her a hack?

What if people didn't like her designs?

Valentine headed straight to her, a wrathful pixie dressed like June Cleaver. "Drink this now," she ordered, shoving a glass of champagne into her hand. "And then smile. You look like you're going to be sick."

"It's a distinct possibility."

Her friend got in her face, so that all she could see was Valentine's big blue eyes. "You aren't going to be sick. You're going to shine and make us all proud."

"Okay," Nicole said obediently.

"Good." Valentine smoothed her dress and looked around with a satisfied nod.

A flash caught her attention. Nicole turned.

Marley snapped another photo and then lowered her camera. "This is awesome. I can't believe how this all came together. You'd never guess this is normally a café bookstore. It looks like everyone put their stamp on it."

They had. As Nicole looked around, she felt a surge of love for the community who'd pulled together to support her. Eve had donated the location, and Olivia had insisted on decorating. Julie, from Back to the Fuchsia, arranged all the flowers, making the space vibrant with life. Eve had talked Daniela Rossi, the world-famous pastry chef, to bake special little cakes and truffles. Even Lola Carmichael, a local bestselling romance author, helped by sprinkling fairy dust on the lingerie marketing copy.

The women were all there, too. Eve, Olivia, Lola, and Daniela were chatting with Nicole's mom, all of them drinking champagne—except Olivia, who was just starting to show with her second baby. A tall red-haired woman dressed like a gypsy joined them, and they all laughed.

On the other side of the room, Julie fussed with her flowers last minute, making sure everything was perfect.

And, of course, Marley and Valentine were with her. Nicole linked her arms through theirs. "I love you guys, you know that, right?"

"I'm glad you told us, because I've been having doubts," Marley said with her usual sarcasm. Then she winked and lifted her camera. "I'm going to scope out the best spot for the show. See you."

Valentine shook her head, following Marley with a fond gaze. "Where did we find her?"

"I don't know, but we were lucky."

Her friend patted her back and then pushed her toward the crowd of reporters. "Breathe. And circulate. You're a star tonight."

"Yes." Nicole nodded and stepped forward.

A reporter came over and began to ask questions about Nicole's unprecedented show.

It was unorthodox and risky staging it in a neighborhood café. She'd been told that her first show should be in New York, in the Fall, not Spring in San Francisco. She'd been told that this "plebian" setting would do nothing to launch her line, and that if she went ahead with it, she'd be relegated to the small time.

But Nicole started in Laurel Heights. Without the women who'd befriended her, she'd still be jumping from job-to-job, unsure of what she really wanted. This lingerie show was to launch her line, but it was also an homage to the community and the women who'd supported her.

Fortunately, her investor had backed her decision. But Prescott Carrington-Wright III was a god-among-men. Nicole didn't know why Scott had decided to invest in her start-up, but she was grateful for him every day.

Scott had assured her the instinct to set the first show in Laurel Heights was a good one. He'd hired a marketing guru to help spin the event, and the media had picked up on it. They called it "innovative," "fresh," and "the power of community”—pretty much everything their marketing consultant had told them it'd be. All the big guns were there tonight: Vogue, W, InStyle, and Cosmo, to name a few.

"I'm going to borrow Nicole for a moment," a deep voice said from behind.

She turned to see Scott. He looked like he always did—powerful and in control. She bet he intimidated most people, but she'd liked him immediately. "Did you come to rescue me?"

"No way." He smiled. "You looked in your element. This is all fabulous and completely beyond what I'd imagined. They're in for a treat tonight."

"It's pretty great, isn't it?" She beamed.

"Better than great." He paused, and then said, "Who's that woman over there?"

She looked to where he pointed. "Julie? She did the flowers."

He nodded, his gaze completely focused on the woman.

Nicole frowned. "Is anything wrong?"

"Not at all." He squeezed her arm. "Excuse me."

She watched him walk over to the florist. Like a deer scenting danger, Julie looked up as he approached, her body language stiff.

Was something wrong? Nicole started to join them, but then she saw Scott's smile, predatory, his focus completely on Julie. Ah. So it was like that.

"What are you grinning about?" Grif said softly, coming up behind her and kissing her neck.

She hugged the arm that he slipped around her waist. "My money man is making moves on the florist."

"Good for him." Grif nuzzled her temple. "Maybe he'll get lucky, like us."

She turned into his arms. "No one is as lucky as us."

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show.

Grif kissed her softly. "Go be a star."

"Okay." She felt the familiar flutter of nerves but excitement overrode it. She went and accepted the microphone from the sound technician and faced everyone. "Thank you all for joining me tonight for the launch of Romance, by Nicole."

She nodded at the sound guy, who kicked off the music: Grif's latest album, Here with You, which had gone platinum in the first week of its release.

She held her breath as the first "model" walked out from the back. In keeping with the community theme, Nicole had wanted to use customers from Romantic Notions to show off the designs--everyday women of all sizes and shapes, transformed into passionate dreams.

The next model came out: Rachel.

Nicole smiled. Talk about transforming—the girl had done just that in the past year. She was lovely, and in the modest babydoll she looked both adorable and stunning. Her boyfriend Aaron certainly thought so, if his cheering was any indication.

The teenager winked at Nicole and then strutted down the red carpet.

Nicole watched model after model parade through the room, showing off her creations, and felt so blessed. She clasped her hands to her chest and tried to keep it in.

"Who's that?" Bull asked softly, coming up alongside her.

She glanced at the woman on the red carpet that his gaze was trained on. "Joey? She lives in the neighborhood. She shops at Romantic Notions."

He growled low and deep in his throat, like he was hungry. If the way he was looking at Joey was any indication, he was hungry for her. "She looks like my size."

Nicole remembered the red lingerie he'd bought and looked at him, impressed. "She is, actually."

"I could tell."

Smiling, Nicole patted his arm. "She'll be around after the show."

"I'm gonna make sure of it." He kissed her cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

When the last model strode out wearing white bridal lingerie, the entire room burst into applause.

Grif handed her flowers, careful to stay out of her limelight. "It was perfect, Nic," he said, giving her a proud kiss. "Just like you."

"No." Nicole laughed happily, throwing her arms around him, aware of the flash of cameras going off and not caring. "It was perfect like us, just like it should be."

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