Gown Girl

By Kat Cazanav

Life has a few harsh surprises for Maddy Gill. When a fire sweeps through her Seattle apartment and destroys the little she has left, she finds herself living out of her car. But not the kind of gal to feel sorry for herself, she scrambles to get back on her feet. As a reporter for a local newspaper, she seizes the opportunity to interview the elusive wedding couture designer, Sophia Nicoletta. When she unintentionally tries on Sophia’s most expensive creation, the zipper just won’t budge. Trapped in the clutches of a million dollar gown and with the risk of losing her job, she has no where to turn until sexy charismatic sculptor Atticus Wolfe arrives to pay the delinquent tab on his ex-fiancées wedding gown. Now Maddy realizes she’s a hostage in the same dress. With no immediate solution to the problem, she’s forced to go home with the brooding young artist.

As one of the hottest new sculptors on the art scene, Atticus Wolfe can have any woman he wants, just not Maddy Gill. Certainly not like this. No way, no how. With nothing in common other than a faulty zipper, his futile attempts to undress her and set her free only fuel a heated attraction. When a hot kiss and unforgettable night forces him to re-examine his feelings for her, Atticus finds himself wondering if losing the gown means losing the girl he’s been waiting for all his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kat Cazanav
• Release date: May 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310416538

Kat Cazanav

Kat Cazanav graduated from the University of California at Los Angeles with a B.A. in film. After working in television and starting a family, she moved to the Pacific Northwest. She shares her life with family and pets on five acres of woodland. When not writing you can find her reading and when not reading she is usually writing. On occasion when writer's block hits, walking through her favorite neighborhood in Seattle will usually spark an idea.

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Gown Girl

Lost in Lace series -Book One

Copyright © 2015 Kat Cazanav

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Editing: Deb Hartwell at Hartwell Editing

Cover: Staci Brillhart at Quirky Bird

Fomatting by Champagne Formats

title page

copyright

dedication

quote

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen

chapter fourteen

chapter fifteen

chapter sixteen

chapter seventeen

chapter eighteen

chapter nineteen

chapter twenty

chapter twenty-one

chapter twenty-two

chapter twenty-three

chapter twenty-four

chapter twenty-five

chapter twenty-six

chapter twenty-seven

epilogue

other books by this author

acknowledgements

about the author

To my family, who encourages me to turn crazy mishaps into terrific stories.

NAKED AND FREEZING UNDERNEATH her baggy sweats, Maddy Gill stood on the sidewalk clutching her mutt, Charlie. She’d barely had time to throw on her clothes and grab her dog, purse, shoes, and laptop, before scrambling down the smoke-filled stairwell. Now she watched as the apartment she’d once called ‘home’ went up in flames.

It had started at two in the morning. Loud shouting had woken her up out of a sound sleep. The pounding on the front door had driven her out of bed and by the time she’d realized something was terribly wrong, smoke was curling underneath the threshold of the door. Later, investigators would pin it on someone improperly disposing of smoking material. No injuries were reported, but shaken and emotional tenants watched from behind yellow police tape as the last fire crews sprayed down the building’s torched top floor.

You okay, Maddy? Josh asked. He joined her at the edge of the yellow tape. A twenty-six-year-old bartender who’d lived next door to her, he now gazed out at the carnage. Wow. I never dreamed ‘homeless’ would be part of my vocabulary this evening.

Yeah, me too. She was at a loss for words. The whole thing felt so surreal. Emergency responders were using oxygen to resuscitate a cat and an old woman. About a dozen fire trucks were lined up on the street.

My apartment’s gone. How about yours? he asked.

Maddy hugged Charlie tighter in her arms. The little mutt buried his face in her chest. Same. I lost everything.

Yeah, kind of weird. Like we’re being forced to leave our old lives behind, huh?

Maddy stared at him. She hated philosophical bullshit. Why not call it what it was? Messed up. Not that life hadn’t thrown her a few curve balls the past few years. Her parents’ divorce, her mom’s death, her four-year relationship ending abruptly over her boyfriend’s cheating spree, and now this. One more devastating blow to deal with. Where was she going to spend the night? She couldn’t stay at any of her friends’ apartments, since none of them allowed dogs. She couldn’t crash at her ex’s apartment. David had replaced her with some girl three days after they broke up. No way was she getting near him ever again. A girl had to have some pride even if she didn’t have a roof over her head. Her brother lived in California and her father called home a houseboat, docked at a marina a hundred miles north of Seattle. A while back, she’d considered moving closer to her dad but giving up the Emerald City for a small town felt unnatural. Seattle was where her heart belonged. Quirky people, great food, and summer sunsets to die for.

You got a place to stay tonight? Josh asked. My brother’s away on business so I’m gonna crash at his pad. Want to join me?

Thanks, but I’ve got it covered. She’d never slept in her car before but there was always a first time. The front seats reclined and they were made of cheap fuzzy cloth, which made them warmer than expensive leather ones. Yay for the crappy car. She’d only have to spend a couple sleepless hours in her worthless piece of junk, and then maybe she’d sneak into her office building before anyone got to work and use the gym facilities reserved for top brass. A quick shower and she’d be at her desk by nine. In her sweats. With her dog. No make up.

Jezzzuus. This sucks.

Where to park herself for the next few hours was a problem. With no one to turn to, she’d finally called David, her ex, as a last resort and asked if she could sleep on the couch. They hadn’t spoken since the break up and he’d moved on with someone new. He politely turned her away, unless a threesome interested her, which it did not, but he was quick to suggest another idea. It was so him. So uniquely annoyingly obnoxious that Maddy felt a tinge of relief not seeing him tonight.

Now she sat in the cold car bundled in a Mylar camping blanket with her dog nestled in her lap for warmth. She stared up at the shades drawn on his window and wondered what she’d seen in the guy. His suggestion was simple: park her car in front of his building and sleep in it. He said he’d be there for her if something happened during the night. So full of himself. She hated him. Always would. He’d cheated on her and there was no going back from a lie on top of a lie. She wished she’d had the guts to knock on his door tonight and make his evening worse than hers but she didn’t. As much as she wanted to, something kept her from disturbing him. Maybe because she feared what she’d find. A beautiful girl lay tangled in his bed sheets. So instead, she stayed outside his building, in her freezing car. At least if someone attacked her in the dead of night, she could always press on her horn and he’d come to her aid. It was only two flights down and a couple hundred feet to save her. That is, if the guy wasn’t getting busy in the middle of the night. .

As the night wore on, she reclined the front seat and curled up to catch a few Zzz’s. But every once in awhile a car alarm would go off and she’d wake up, panicked it might be hers. Then she’d recall her car alarm died a long time ago and she’d fall back to sleep for another abbreviated nap. Charlie stayed vigilant as her guardian angel. He stared out the window, alert to the guy in the Jeep across the street.

This had been a long night. Atticus should have said no but the thought of finally getting rid of his bride-to-be was more than he could handle. He was ecstatic. So elated over the departure of her from his life, he’d volunteered to personally drop off five suitcases of personal belongings at her new lover’s apartment. He’d successfully completed the job after midnight without the hungry paparazzi honing in on his actions. Usually they wrote trash about him and his personal life. It was never true—more embarrassing than anything else. They made him sound like a man whore when the truth was, hook ups didn’t interest him. He wanted something more, like a real connection. Corny, but true. Then Ana had come along and he’d been blindsided by her boldness. Must have had something to do with the yacht party in the Caribbean. Everyone gets horny when they’re out on the water.

He leaned back in his seat and exhaled slowly. His biceps twitched from lugging all those suitcases filled with God knows what up to her. The good part felt great. He was finished with her. His sisters would be happy, his brother would be delirious, and most importantly, his father would respect him. The time on the dashboard read four a.m. In two hours it would be daylight and his father would be up, taking another dose of morphine to kill the pain. That was the best time to see him. His mellowness allowed for more acceptances to life and to Atticus, the black sheep of the family. Maybe he would even make up a story about having found a terrific girl, not anything like the gold digger Ana had been. That would make the dying man happy.

He started his motor and accidentally initiated the car alarm. The shrill beeps sliced through darkness out on the street. A light popped on in Ana’s new apartment window. Her boyfriend yelled to the car parked down below, then slammed the window shut.

Atticus cut the alarm and let the motor warm up for a moment; all the while staring at what appeared to be some girl huddled in the front seat of the car. What looked like a dog jumped around in the back but it was night, so who could really tell? The girl rolled down her window and scanned the street. For some reason, curiosity bloomed inside his tired mind. She looked young, no more than twenty something, wearing a hoodie and thick scarf wrapped around her neck. It looked like he’d woken her up with his car alarm. Was she nursing a hangover? Maybe, but wouldn’t it be safer to crash at someone’s pad? The bars closed at two a.m. and if the dog bouncing around in the car was small, that surely wouldn’t protect her from a drunk stumbling home after hours.

She checked her rear view, did another double take out the driver’s side, rolled the window shut, and slipped down into the seat.

If her car had been newer, more expensive, or a heavier model, he might have driven off, thinking she was protected in a tank. But her car had a good ten years on it, and with four bald tires, it probably didn’t move any faster than a slug in summer. Poor thing. She looked destitute. He rolled down his window slightly to get a better view of the situation. Does she have a flat tire and is waiting for AAA? He turned off his motor and stared at her. The dog in the car stared back at him. Obviously, she and her dog had to be cold. It was thirty degrees outside with a wind chill. He tried to remember if the picnic blanket Ana had kept in the back of the Jeep was still there. It was worth a look. Poor girl looked like she was freezing her ass off.

As he was about to leave his car and check for a blanket, something caught his eye. He sat with his hand on the door handle and squinted in the distance. Someone came lumbering out of an alleyway and headed for the girl’s car. The figure passed under a weak street lamp, giving Atticus enough of a visual to tell him trouble had come knocking. His stomach twisted into a knot as he watched the guy open his fly and piss on her rear fender. The dog in the car jumped against the back window, barking his head off. The girl bolted up. Her hair tumbled into her eyes. She pushed her wavy locks away and stared out her side window. For the briefest of moments Atticus caught a glimpse of her eyes, reflected in the pale light of a street lamp. It wasn’t enough to identify her, but something about those eyes tugged at his heart. In a flash, the girl threw her hoodie over her head and started her car. He was sure she’d burn rubber and speed off down the street but instead she laid on the horn. A high-pitched beep startled the guy. He hurriedly zipped up his pants and returned to the shadows in the alleyway. Ana’s new boyfriend stuck his head out the window of the third floor and yelled at the girl.

Atticus couldn’t tell what he was saying but the fact that the guy’s sleep or whatever kept being interrupted made him smile from ear to ear. There was nothing so sweet as the revenge of a lover. He couldn’t have planned it more perfectly.

Now Atticus rethought his next move. He didn’t want to scare the girl by tapping on her window to hand her a blanket. It might seem weird, almost stalkerish. Maybe the best thing to do was to stay where he was and watch her just in case it happened again. As a good deed.

But why did he care?

He caught himself thinking about her eyes. Maybe he’d just imagined their beauty. He’d been lonely for so long. He and Ana had stopped being friends long before they stopped being a couple. And now he was fantasizing about a girl in a car who had a life far removed from his own. He’d never see her again after tonight so why bother sitting here in the freezing cold, guarding her? From what? Piss on her fender? Get real.

He thought of offering her a warm seat in his car while she waited for whatever. He even liked dogs, considering he had three of his own. As he mulled over his options for helping her, another stranger appeared out of nowhere. This guy was younger and shorter than the last guy, but bulkier. He had more muscle on him and looked far more menacing, with a bottle in one hand and a metal chain in the other. He strolled past her car, stopped, turned around, and walked back. He bent down at her passenger window and peered inside, saying something to her. She waved him off. Or flipped him off. He took a step back and moved around back to the pissed on fender. She had no idea he was there. Why would she? Unless she was glued to her rear view mirror, which she wasn’t. He moved closer as if examining the car, or maybe contemplating his next move. His head tilted back and forth a few times, trying to get a fix on the girl and her dog through their dirty back window. And then he raised his hand, unwinding the long chain so it hung rope like at his side.

In that moment between the chain smacking the back window and the dog letting out a loud bark, Atticus flew out of his Jeep and bolted across the street. The stranger didn’t stand a chance with Atticus being 6’4" and 220 pounds. He charged the guy, his fist landing squarely across the stranger’s jaw.

The guy fell backward, landing hard against the curb. The girl popped upright and screamed. The dog yelped and jumped from the back seat to the front.

Another hit to the stranger’s face brought a loud crack in the air. The car roared to life, distracting Atticus for only the briefest of seconds and that’s all it took for the stranger to retaliate with equal force to Atticus’s jaw. His head snapped backwards and he lost his footing. He fell to the ground, hitting his head. The familiar sound of tires burning rubber on asphalt was the last thing he heard before he blacked out.

By six a.m., Maddy had enough of driving around. Shaken up by the last few hours, the sight of her office building brought a sigh of relief. She parked in the empty parking lot and waited for the office to open.

While sunrise took shape, she flipped through her phone, staring at the only photos she had left in her life. Her albums, computer, and DVDs containing memories of family events were burned to a crisp and sure, some photos were kept on a cloud, but there were some that were taken years ago when she was little. Photos of her and her mom at the beach. Photos of birthday parties with family. Graduations, proms, family weddings. All the important moments captured on cheap paper in flimsy photo albums. Her mom had given her the albums just before she died. It was all she had. No fancy heirloom jewelry, expensive keepsakes, or pricey antiques. No. Maddy’s mom had barely paid the bills every month as a teacher. Her dad did slightly better as a groundskeeper for the University campus. Nope. All Maddy’s memories had been tucked inside a few albums and the rest on her phone. A lifetime of memories turned to ash in less than a few minutes.

She wiped her cheek of a lone tear and stared at the top of her hands. Her knuckles were scraped and red. She was a mess but then she realized there was another more pressing matter. . . . She hadn’t saved enough money for first and last month’s rent on a new apartment. But that wasn’t the worst part. No, the kicker was asking her boss for a two-month advance on her salary, which he’d never agree to. Not because he didn’t think she was doing a good job. Covering the local wedding cakes in town required a certain amount of imagination or aptitude for describing the gaudy and ridiculous. She’d become pretty good at recounting high society wedding cake glory and all the bells and whistles that went along with it. She always put a positive spin on the cake, regardless of how outlandish it looked. But tomorrow her job would steer into a new direction. At least that’s what she hoped. Her first real journalistic endeavor might actually happen at two p.m. and here she was, flat broke with nowhere to live and nothing to wear.

Maybe Harry, her boss, would take pity on her and let her sleep in the V.I.P. lounge. Somehow, she doubted it.

MADDY AND CHARLIE, ALONG with the custodian, were the first to enter Harlan Publications. Taking the stairs two at a time, she ran to the third floor lounge where she snatched an elegantly wrapped mini bar of soap, a fluffy towel, and did the one thing she wasn’t supposed to do.

She took a twenty-minute shower in the corporate women’s locker room, attempting to drown her sorrows in hot steam and sweet smelling lavender soap.

In the end, she looked like a drowned rat, her limp brown hair wrapped into a messy bun and dressed in hiking clothes she’d found in the trunk of her car. Her cargo pants and black, long sleeved t-shirt were in definite contrast to moccasins covered in soot from the fire. Crap. If anyone noticed, she’d owe him or her an explanation and the event was still too raw in her memory to talk freely about. The memory of last night made her ill.

The first one to arrive after Maddy was Emma Hunter. She waltzed inside the office promptly at 8:00 a.m. Not a minute sooner.