on the way in to work this morning. So there’s no need to worry. And there was no burglar in our apartment on Sunday night. I checked, remember?”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m sorry, Nat,” he cut in impatiently, “but I have to go. Don’t worry – you’re perfectly safe. We’ll talk later, when I get home.”
And before she could respond, he rang off.
Chapter Eleven
Why, Holly wondered as she eyed the stacks of shoe boxes crowding Dashwood and James’s shoe department the next morning, had she agreed to work today?
Even though Monday was normally her day off, she’d promised her father she’d help prepare for the grand opening – which meant making sure all was in readiness for Karl von Karle’s personal appearance at the store’s launch.
According to Natalie, von Karle was the hottest shoe designer since Manolo Blahnik.
“There you are, Holly.” Alastair strode down the aisle, Coco just behind him. “Thank you for coming in to help today.”
“Good thing I did,” she observed as she eyed the teetering stack of von Karles waiting to be arranged on the display shelves. “With all the buzz his appearance is generating, you’d think that silly German shoe guy was a rock star.”
“That ‘silly German shoe guy’ is a gifted designer,” Coco informed her coolly. “Every woman wants a pair of von Karles.”
“I don’t,” Holly retorted. “I get vertigo just looking at those stiletto heels. They look ridiculous. Not to mention unsafe. And uncomfortable.”
“Fashion isn’t about comfort, Holly,” Coco said, “it’s about style.” Her glance swept dismissively over Holly’s belted, short-sleeved sweater and creased linen skirt. “Something you obviously don’t understand.”
“And
you
obviously don’t understand the concept of asking before you give out personal information.”
“What are you talking about?”
Before Holly could respond, her father, oblivious to the hostile current between the two young women, consulted a clipboard in his hand. “Holly, I need you to help Coco upstairs for a couple of hours, if you would.”
“Okay,” she said, even as her heart sank at the prospect. “Dad,” she added as Coco turned away to take a call, “I need to leave early this afternoon. I’m meeting Ciaran. He’s looking at apartments and asked me to go with him.”
“Ciaran?” Alastair echoed, and his brow rose. “But you just spent all day with him yesterday.”
“Yes, for publicity,” she reminded him. “His TV show starts filming soon, and he’s looking for a permanent place to live. He wants me to help him look before he returns to London. What’s wrong with that?”
“Doesn’t he have an estate agent?”
“I’m not showing him properties, Dad, I’m just going along to look at a couple of apartments. He wants my opinion.”
“Ciaran is a charming young man,” her father said, his jaw set in a hard line, “but he’s not someone I’d chose as a potential suitor for my daughter.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get to choose, then, isn’t it?” she retorted. “And I’m already engaged – or have you forgotten? Besides, Ciaran’s just a friend.”
“He’s a film star, Holly, and he’s accustomed to women throwing themselves at him. And I’ve no doubt,” he added with a scowl, “that he takes full advantage of it.”
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can, Holly, but—”
“Mr James, so sorry to interrupt, but you’re needed in receiving,” Coco informed him. “I’ve just had a call from Mr Baxter. There’s a problem with one of the shipments.”
Alastair sighed. “There’s always a problem, isn’t there? Very well – I’ll be right there.” He turned back to Holly, his expression grim. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“Holly,” Coco informed her as he left, “I need you to go up to the attic. The workmen have cleared everything out except for some odds and ends; probably
“Yes, but—”
“I’m sorry, Nat,” he cut in impatiently, “but I have to go. Don’t worry – you’re perfectly safe. We’ll talk later, when I get home.”
And before she could respond, he rang off.
Chapter Eleven
Why, Holly wondered as she eyed the stacks of shoe boxes crowding Dashwood and James’s shoe department the next morning, had she agreed to work today?
Even though Monday was normally her day off, she’d promised her father she’d help prepare for the grand opening – which meant making sure all was in readiness for Karl von Karle’s personal appearance at the store’s launch.
According to Natalie, von Karle was the hottest shoe designer since Manolo Blahnik.
“There you are, Holly.” Alastair strode down the aisle, Coco just behind him. “Thank you for coming in to help today.”
“Good thing I did,” she observed as she eyed the teetering stack of von Karles waiting to be arranged on the display shelves. “With all the buzz his appearance is generating, you’d think that silly German shoe guy was a rock star.”
“That ‘silly German shoe guy’ is a gifted designer,” Coco informed her coolly. “Every woman wants a pair of von Karles.”
“I don’t,” Holly retorted. “I get vertigo just looking at those stiletto heels. They look ridiculous. Not to mention unsafe. And uncomfortable.”
“Fashion isn’t about comfort, Holly,” Coco said, “it’s about style.” Her glance swept dismissively over Holly’s belted, short-sleeved sweater and creased linen skirt. “Something you obviously don’t understand.”
“And
you
obviously don’t understand the concept of asking before you give out personal information.”
“What are you talking about?”
Before Holly could respond, her father, oblivious to the hostile current between the two young women, consulted a clipboard in his hand. “Holly, I need you to help Coco upstairs for a couple of hours, if you would.”
“Okay,” she said, even as her heart sank at the prospect. “Dad,” she added as Coco turned away to take a call, “I need to leave early this afternoon. I’m meeting Ciaran. He’s looking at apartments and asked me to go with him.”
“Ciaran?” Alastair echoed, and his brow rose. “But you just spent all day with him yesterday.”
“Yes, for publicity,” she reminded him. “His TV show starts filming soon, and he’s looking for a permanent place to live. He wants me to help him look before he returns to London. What’s wrong with that?”
“Doesn’t he have an estate agent?”
“I’m not showing him properties, Dad, I’m just going along to look at a couple of apartments. He wants my opinion.”
“Ciaran is a charming young man,” her father said, his jaw set in a hard line, “but he’s not someone I’d chose as a potential suitor for my daughter.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get to choose, then, isn’t it?” she retorted. “And I’m already engaged – or have you forgotten? Besides, Ciaran’s just a friend.”
“He’s a film star, Holly, and he’s accustomed to women throwing themselves at him. And I’ve no doubt,” he added with a scowl, “that he takes full advantage of it.”
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can, Holly, but—”
“Mr James, so sorry to interrupt, but you’re needed in receiving,” Coco informed him. “I’ve just had a call from Mr Baxter. There’s a problem with one of the shipments.”
Alastair sighed. “There’s always a problem, isn’t there? Very well – I’ll be right there.” He turned back to Holly, his expression grim. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“Holly,” Coco informed her as he left, “I need you to go up to the attic. The workmen have cleared everything out except for some odds and ends; probably
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