Shocked, I watch him continue to fiddle with the pins. I can’t even begin to understand that logic. “Wait, so they’d rather throw all that extra fabric away than give it to someone who could use it?”
He nods sadly. “It’s very common in the fashion industry, actually. Many brands will destroy or burn their extra inventory just so it won’t be sold at a discount. They don’t want anyone they don’t deem worthy using their products.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“I agree.”
I watch him messing with the panels on the coat. It hits me then that I’m probably the only person he can talk to about this. If you’d asked me just an hour ago if I thought Andre Lavin was lonely, I would have laughed. The man is rich, famous and at the top of his career. But as I watch him gaze lovingly at a puffy coat, I realize that he can be all of those things and lonely at the same time.
Maybe he feels just as trapped by his life as I do by mine sometimes.
“Well, I think it’s amazing. It’s a really creative design.”
He dips his head slightly before murmuring, “Grazie. I just wish I’d fought harder at the time for the idea.”
“Maybe you still can. This new marketing campaign can be an opportunity to try again. The board might see it differently if we can prove how beneficial a non-profit program will be to the company’s image.”
He slides his hands in his pockets. “You’re good at this. And I can see how happy this job makes you.”
“It does. Working with Mya has been so interesting. She’s really smart and has handled so many different companies. I’ve learned a lot from her already.”
“She designed a fantastic campaign for Lavin Bridal last year. I was impressed.”
Last year. Thinking of him working closely with Mya last year makes me think about what Milo said at the Preview Gala. If they were working so closely on the campaign, is that why Milo thought they were dating? Or was it something more?
“I guess you know her pretty well then.”
His enigmatic smile reveals nothing. “Are you asking as a friend?”
“Of course. I was just wondering.” I lean down and grab my handbag. “I should probably go. Ariana will be wondering where I am.”
“Let me drive you home. I didn’t mean to keep you so late. Time got away from me.”
“You don’t have to do that.” But I already know what he’s going to say.
“I want to. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t make sure you got home safely?”
His insistence on using the word seems significant. Something tells me he’s going to make me regret asking to be just friends.
It doesn’t take that long to get to my apartment but I spend the entire ride wishing I didn’t have to go home. But I know that if I stayed any later, it would be really difficult to stick to my side of the just friends bargain.
Andre is arrogant and maddening and all of those other things I complained about to Ariana. But he’s also a creative genius and incredibly attuned to me. Despite all the outrageous things he says and does, I get the feeling he’s just enjoying my honest reactions to him. From wh
at I’ve observed, that’s not something he gets to experience often.
Everyone seems to either treat him like a business or like a god. Neither of which is going to keep anyone warm at night. And even though I’m sure attempting to be his friend is probably like asking a fox to be a friend to a hen, I’m still going to attempt it.
Even if there’s the chance this will go badly, I want to be his friend. I like him. And I like how much he seems to like me.
“You’re awfully quiet over there.”
The car pulls smoothly to the side of the road. There’s rarely any parking in Adams Morgan at this time of night so we’re double-parked. Andre’s strong features are illuminated in the light from the nearby building.
“Just thinking about tonight. I was pleasantly surprised. I really didn’t think you could get through an entire night without doing something inappropriate.”
He grins. “You shouldn’t speak so soon. You’re not home yet.”
“So this is where you fall off the wagon, huh? Well, go ahead then. Get it over with so I can slap you and call it a night.”