The Designer Bride

By Liberty Blake

Costume designer Analisa Norfolk, one of an elite team of doubles for rock star Breezy, is called to be a decoy in New York City when Breezy is under threat and running for her life.

Billionaire Marco Fuentes is a Broadway producer, director, and choreographer in desperate need of a costume designer. He is determined to have Analisa through trickery or negotiation, the method doesn’t matter to him, only the result.

Is their chemistry strong enough to survive their secrets?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Liberty Blake
• Release date: Jan 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370885695

Book preview

1

If Analisa hadn’t smiled at the guy in the wheelchair, she wouldn’t have to face the handsome hunk she just walked into. Her horror-filled gaze saw her precious iced coffee dripping off his broad chest. Without thinking she tried to wipe the cold coffee off the guy, but quickly realized her hand had just swept over something she shouldn’t be touching, especially not on a stranger .

Ice! He sniffed. Iced coffee! Who the hell has iced coffee in February when the temperature is a hundred degrees below zero? Tall, Dark, and Loud shouted his exaggeration. Analisa was sure it wasn’t a degree below fifteen.

She began wiping the man’s suit off with napkins she pulled out of her coat pocket. Good thing she was herself and not representing her employer at that moment. Being clumsy as plain old Analisa Norfolk was nothing. No one knew who she was and nobody cared to know, but if she were working as Breezy’s double during this incident, Breezy’s picture would be blasted all over television, the internet, and print media, courtesy of the paparazzi. Lost in thought, it took her a moment to realize her hand lingered a moment too long on the fine fabric. Magnolia—her boss and the super star Analisa pretended to be when Magnolia (aka Breezy) needed to live a normal life—wasn’t a morality stickler, but she did insist on no PDAs that could hurt the brand, and groping a stranger’s family jewels on 42nd Street at noontime would definitely count as a violation of one of Magnolia’s Rules, better known as Nollie’s No-Nos. Analisa was just too flustered at that moment to remember which one; the damn thing was growing under her fingers.

They make them more hearty where I come from, she mumbled.

I beg your pardon? His voice rumbled deep in his chest.

In New England we drink iced coffee while we’re shoveling metric tons of snow in our flip/flops, shorts, and wool hats. Her face burned from her internal flamethrower. Damn, he wasn’t supposed to hear that.

Lady, you have a unique approach, but I’m not in the market for what you’re selling, Mr. Tall, Dark, and now Perfectly-Modulated-Diction voiced. Analisa almost missed the implication of those beautifully annunciated words.

Almost.

Her hand stung from the slap she applied to his face, but at least the coffee no longer dripped off her fingers. Instead, it neatly outlined the red handprint on his cheek.

Sorry, buddy, you’ve got my sister all wrong. Her faithful bodyguard, Maverick, intervened. She’s a klutz. She’ll never win a prize for grace. Just be grateful she didn’t want hot chocolate this morning.

Maverick slipped a hand under her elbow and tried to lead her off, but he had misgauged her pissed off level. She stood her ground and spoke to the cretin herself. "Just so you know, buddy, I was going to offer to pay for your dry cleaning, but you can go whistle in the wind for that courtesy now. However, since your slacks are obviously expensive, I would advise you to change out of them as soon as you can and get them to a good cleaners before they are past redemption. You can tell the cleaner I had mocha, so he has to worry about chocolate and coffee, not to mention the milk that was in the drink."

As they walked down the block, Maverick whispered to Analisa, What got into you, Annie? I’ve never seen you react to anyone like that before.

He called me a hooker!

To be fair, girl, he didn’t actually call you a hooker.

Oh yes he did. It was right there in the not so subtle subtext.

You women and your obsession with subtext! I don’t even know what the hell subtext is! Oh boy, now Maverick was pissed. You were groping the guy and yet he was the one to get slapped. That’s not right.

She was not groping that – that cretin! She really hadn’t felt the hard ridge under the fine wool. Really she hadn’t. At least not on purpose. Really, it wasn’t until the hardening that she noticed it.

"You know, Herman, Analisa derived a great deal of satisfaction when her bodyguard/brother cringed, if this is your way of defending and protecting me, I think I have to call Mama Tillman and request a replacement. Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll send Ethan."

Herman Maverick Landcaster, her brother by another father, groaned. What’s so special about Ethan?

Ethan is tall, handsome, kind, and makes kickass cookies. Analisa sighed dramatically. He’s every woman’s dreamboat.

Analisa immediately felt guilty over being mean to Maverick. He wasn’t a bad guy and it was a low blow to mention height. Everyone knew he was a little touchy about his lack of inches. All the other bodyguards in Tillman security tended to tower over him by at least half a foot, so now she would have to find a way to apologize without having to say the words. She knew he had been sent with her because of his height. He was her half-brother, so even though their looks were so dissimilar, nobody questioned the relationship. He usually tried to talk his way out of a fight rather than confronting possible trouble with force. He was really quite good at it, but when pushed, he knew how to fight and protect.

You know, Annie, you really shouldn’t have hit him. Maverick’s voice had turned serious as they continued walking through the crowd toward Times Square. If he had wanted to kick up a fuss he could have had you charged with assault. We’re just lucky he’s not one of those prissy litigious types.

Analisa swallowed the retort she was about to unleash on the hapless Maverick. He was right. Once again her natural clumsiness was about to blow the entire operation, if her PMS didn’t do it first.

It was bad enough the other doubles had to fake accidents so that she wouldn’t stand out like a sore thumb when it was her turn to be Breezy. On the morning show she had seen a picture of Paige faking a trip in the New Orleans airport. Poor Paige limped out of the shot. Analisa hoped it was a fake limp and not the real thing. If Paige had been hurt trying to imitate her klutziness, Analisa would never be able to forgive herself.

Marco had been on his way to an important television interview when he ran into the Calamity Jane of roving hands. He would have to have Lucy bring him a new suit at 30 Rock. He was hoping to find a couple of angels for his show, and doing an important television interview in a soiled suit was not something that would instill confidence in him or his product .

In his head he knew the days of people judging his competence based on his ratty jeans and even more decrepit tee shirts were long gone, but most of the moneyed people he had to deal with still judged a man by his threads.

He could cover the costs of the production himself, but he hadn’t accumulated his fortune by using his own money. He held firmly to the rule that only twenty-five percent of the costs fell on him. That way should the show bomb, which hadn’t happened to one of his shows yet, but there was always that possibility, he would still have the currency to produce another show and take care of his extended family.

The entertainment industry had its rewards and big paydays, but it also had shows that tanked so badly the people involved were never able to recover. Well, that was not going to happen to this boy. He had a large extended family to take care of.

His mother had escaped Cuba on a raft with dreams of being a dancer, but the closest she ever got was as a back-up dancer in a rock band. After she got pregnant, she had started teaching. She was a graceful little powerhouse—she would never run into a stranger like the girl with the sharp hand had done. Mamí certainly would never have hit a man for her own clumsiness.

Too bad the iced coffee woman was crazy. He had been admiring her legs before she creamed him with her coffee.

When she had first slammed into him, Marco had hoped it had been a stunt to meet one of New York’s most eligible bachelors—thank you New Village Magazine for that dishonor—but if that had been her intention, she sure as hell had a unique approach. The coffee trick was one that had been used before, but the physical violence was definitely a new thing. She had surprised him so much he had even forgotten to check for his wallet. When he finally remembered, he had been pleasantly surprised to see he still had it.

Too bad he hadn’t gotten her name and number; he would love to see what other tricks she had in her repertoire.

2

Analisa stood in the wings of the stage, a familiar setting to her after all her years as a part of Breezy’s entourage, and yet this stage was dramatically different. There were no musicians having to be sewn into tight jeans, no Breezy cracking jokes about the corsets she had to be tightly laced into, no friendly faces happy to see her .

The stage was bright with floodlights as stage hands worked diligently hanging a backdrop.

Her old college nemesis stood mid-stage being castigated by a disembodied voice in the dark theater. The costumes are all wrong. That is not what Mr. Fuertes approved.

Pamela lifted her chin. She had always thought her taste was superior and everyone had to admire her judgment. This design is much better. The women in the audience are going to go wild for it and will want one for themselves.

We are in the process of putting together a Broadway musical, not building a cheap line of clothing for you to hawk at the surplus store. The voice had the strong taint of acid in it.

How dare you speak to me that way? Pamela shouted. I have a degree in design–

Your degree isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on if you are incapable of giving the customer what he wants. The voice was rude, but Analisa couldn’t find fault with the words. The dress they were arguing over was so ugly a charity would be hard-pressed to find someone to take it for free. Get that rag off our star and get the real dress out here so we can see it under the lights.

I demand to see Marco immediately. You are a mere underling. You have no say in this. Nobody could ever accuse Pamela Dumfrey of being tactful. The woman had been a bully and a backstabber in college and apparently she hadn’t changed one bit since then.

Joyelle Bergeron, Analisa’s sister in nannying and Breezy doubling, wasn’t often wrong when she gave advice, but she missed this proverbial nail by a country mile. There would be no peaceful burying of the hatchet. Analisa would have to learn how to move on with life without taking the step of forgiving Pamela. Oh, the hardship.

It was time to stop Maverick from ogling the chorus girls so they could get the hell out of Dodge. Pronto!

My old college roommate has just arrived from touring with Breezy and the Mangy Mutts. Breezy sent her all this way to commission several outfits from me. Pamela crossed her arms over her breasts and smirked out into the dark audience. Marco will fire you before he’ll ever let me go. Just think of all the free publicity he’ll get from my gowns being on the Goddess of Rock!

Maverick grabbed hold of Analisa’s elbow before she could go rip the lying bitch’s hair out by its unbleached roots.

If word of Pamela’s lie got out before Analisa could get word to Magnolia, she’d be in deep doo doo. It’s not that Nollie would ever say or do anything to hurt one of her crew, but Nollie would be the one who would get hurt. There was no way Analisa could let a self-aggrandizing demonic bully like Pamela get away with that.

College roommate? the voice practically yodeled. Could you step on stage, please?

Maverick grabbed Analisa’s elbow and shook his head no.

She pulled her arm away, but before she could walk out of the wings, Maverick whispered, You’re supposed to be lying low.

No one here knows me. It’s okay. She kept her voice a whisper too. She didn’t want anything they were saying to be picked up by a stray mic.

You’ve just been outed as a Breezy employee. Sometimes Maverick was overly attached to stating the obvious.

It’s going to be suspicious if I don’t go out there, Analisa hissed before shaking off his restraining hand and entering from stage left.

Analisa was used to walking around stages—she had to do it often enough. Although she had been hired as a nanny, as soon as Nollie had seen some of her sketches she insisted Analisa turn them into costumes for Breezy. She owed Nollie so much for taking the dream she had thought was dead and performing a Lazarus miracle.

Being careful where she stepped, Analisa was ready to protect Breezy’s reputation. All she had to do was tell the truth.

Well, well, well. A man’s voice had taken over the speakers. Who do we have here?

Analisa Norfolk. There was something about the tonal quality of the voice that sent shivers of awareness down her spine. It would be best to keep her answers short and stick to only the questions asked.

Hello, Analisa Norfolk. Is it true you were Pamela’s roommate in college?

For a short time, yes.

And what did you study there?

How to ruin my life and future in two short years.

Fashion design. Short and succinct.

What was your class ranking? I understand Pamela was number one.

I didn’t graduate. Analisa lifted her head. She worked hard. There was no shame in leaving college. At least not anymore.

When did you start working for Breezy and the Mangy Mutts?

I didn’t work for the Mangy Mutts.

Breezy hired you?

No. Magnolia Brisland hired me as a nanny.

So you wouldn’t know how many outfits Breezy has commissioned from Pamela Dumfrey. The man assumed a lot.

I know exactly how many of Pamela’s outfits Breezy has ordered. Analisa didn’t look at her former friend—the backstabbing, fornicating slut. She knew there would be pleading in her eyes, and even though Analisa had stopped by to forgive Pamela for her past transgressions, she would not lie for her. Right now she was wishing she hadn’t paid any attention to Joyelle’s lectures on the importance of forgiving others in order for a person to be able to move on with their lives.

Breezy has never worn, nor is she planning to wear, any of Pamela’s designs anytime soon. Analisa couldn’t deny this conversation was bringing her pleasure. Maybe unsought revenge worked better than forgiveness. If ever. Wow! Talk about sadistic pleasure! She wondered which one of her moms that trait came from.

If you were the costume designer, what would you have Ms. Morgan in?

I can’t answer a question like that cold. Analisa’s hands were on her hips and she knew she was leaning forward from the waist. Not an attractive stance, but neither was this conversation with a bodiless cretin. I have no idea what this show is about or what the message of the scene is. I have no idea what the costume should be. The one thing I can say is, unless it’s a period piece about the 1960’s, I would never place anyone in that shade of psychedelic pink and lime green.

And that, Pamela, is the reason you are fired. Pamela’s face paled. When she ran off the stage, her tears flew wildly onto everyone within a hundred foot range.

Well, Analisa Norfolk, has Breezy ever worn anything you designed?

She felt her face going hot. It wasn’t exactly a state secret, but she usually didn’t talk to anyone outside of their group about it—especially now that Breezy’s life was in danger.

As a matter of fact, my sister has designed most of Breezy’s wardrobe. What the hell was Maverick up to?

A loud click of the microphone being muted preceded a light beam moving up the aisle from the center of the audience. Another click announced the mic was back on. Lucy is bringing you a copy of the script. She will give you a synopsis of the scenes along with notes of what I want to see done in them. Draw up some preliminary designs this afternoon. We will discuss them over dinner tonight.

Huh? A guy she hadn’t seen, who didn’t have the decency to introduce himself to her before, or even after, the interrogation, expected her to go out to dinner with him? Tonight! Without a decent how do you do or phrasing it in terms of a polite question—

Why would I want to do that? What was it with all these presumptuous guys today? Was it a New York state of mind? Or was the moon in the seventh house? Whatever that means. Analisa shook her head and fought down a smile. All those years working for Nollie had her thinking in terms of old music lyrics.

Because I’m not going to offer you a contract until I see something that will convince me you are capable of doing the job. The voice was getting more familiar.

I’m not looking for a job, but thank you anyway. Who wanted his old contract anyway?

Oh, you’re one of those. Really familiar.

Excuse me? Analisa’s eyes narrowed. She had a feeling that whatever was about to come out of the Neanderthal’s mouth was going to have Maverick catching her mid-flight as she tried to launch herself off the stage and over the orchestra pit.

You’re one of those girls who dreamed of being a fashion designer as you made clothes for your dolls. Unfortunately, when you grew up you discovered you had no talent for it. At least you found out before you had wasted too many years trying to chase after the dream. I’m sure playing with children is enough satisfaction for you. Tell me—who really designed for Breezy?

She had a scathing retort building inside her chest, but no words formed around it. It was a good thing she hadn’t seen the cretin. That way she could pass by him on the street without having to fight the urge to reach into her bag and toss the Chinese throwing stars Angus gave her for Christmas at his throat.

A young woman in jeans and braids scampered up a gangplank that bridged over the orchestra pit. She carried a tote bag on