“I wanted to introduce y’all to Mrs. Creighton’s stepson, Sloan Creighton.”
The designers exchanged a look, but it didn’t display as much alarm as Sloan had anticipated. Nor resignation, either. His Spidey senses started to tingle.
“Yes, yes,” Robert said, leading the way by offering his hand. “I believe I remember James mentioning you to us, Dieu ait son âme.”
God rest his soul, indeed. Out of the corner of his eye, Sloan could see Ziara glance his way. Since it was obvious from their benign reception that neither designer had a clue what was coming down the pike, Sloan decided to play along.
“Vivian tells me you two are working on the fall line. I’d love to see the best of Eternity’s upcoming designs,” he said, ignoring Ziara’s sudden stare.
The men were only too happy to show off. Too bad they didn’t realize they were arming him to take them both down. They exchanged excited glances, then walked toward the display boards in unison.
Sloan stepped closer to Ziara as they followed. “Just relax and follow my lead,” he murmured from the corner of his mouth.
After listening to Robert expound on the sketches for over half an hour, Sloan was definitely unimpressed. Just as he imagined their buyer had been.
When Robert finally wound down, Sloan’s voice filled the stillness. “Did you listen to anything that buyer said?”
The men stiffened, but there wasn’t anything they could say in their own defense.
Sloan pushed forward. “She said the designs were stale. She said the dresses were old-fashioned. Not classic. Not retro. Those are buzz words. Compliments. Stale is not.” He gestured toward the stack of drawings. “Nothing has changed here. Nothing. I can find this same thing in any bridal magazine—from ten years ago.”
“How would you know what the buyer said?” Anthony asked, his voice sounding weak after the booming quality of Robert’s.
“And who do you think you are, to come in here and criticize our work?” Robert added.
“I am now the creative director of Eternity Designs’s fall line. From here on out, all decisions from this department must be approved solely by me.”
The silence was so absolute it rang loud in his ears. Robert’s face gradually turned a shade of purple and Anthony’s eyes flicked back and forth between the other people in the room as if he expected someone to tell him what was really going on here.
Finally Robert spoke, his voice coming from deep in his barreled chest. “Ziara, if this is a joke, it isn’t funny.”
“He isn’t kidding, Robert,” she said in her most soothing voice.
“Look,” Sloan said, impatient with the theatrics. “We have a lot to do and a very short time to do it in. Whether you were informed of this decision previously is not my problem. Getting Eternity Designs back on track is—and I’ll be doing it my way.”
“Why would we need—”
“Are you truly going to pretend you don’t know why I’m here?” Sloan met Robert’s blustery gaze directly. “You may not pay much attention to financial statements while you’re down here in fantasyland, but I know for a fact you were present when the Bridal Boutique buyer ripped your designs apart. Would you like me to go into more detail, or do you remember it for yourself?”
Anthony again joined the conversation. “No, we remember it well enough.”
“Good. I am here to get Eternity back in the black and at the forefront of the wedding apparel industry. So for the next three months you will answer to me—and only me.”
“We won’t do it,” Robert insisted. “After thirty years as a designer, I refuse to have my ideas approved by an amateur.”
“Then I’ll bring in someone who will.”
Harsh. But he knew from his own history that sometimes the hardest lessons were the most memorable...if you used them to your advantage. Just like he’d turned his father’s rejection into professional success.
Moving swiftly across the space, Sloan lifted the entire stack of drawings and dumped them into a nearby trash can. “Start over.”
Ziara and Anthony gasped at the same time. But it was Robert he continued to focus on, the leader of this little group. Bring him to heel and the rest would follow.
Robert sputtered his indignation while Anthony’s face crumpled as if he was going to cry. How in the world could he get through to these yahoos?
Sloan didn’t anticipate Ziara’s sudden tight grip on his arm. She pulled him out of hearing range and turned to face him.
“Do you really think this is the way to gain their cooperation?”
He tried to focus on her words, but his own frustration quickly morphed into desire as she moved close enough for them to hear each other without eavesdroppers. All that solid, testosterone-induced drive melted into liquid desire that pounded in his veins with a thrumming rhythm. Lord have mercy, how had this woman gotten under his skin so quickly?