Lauren's Designs by Elizabeth Chater Read Free Book Online

Things happen.”
    Lauren held up two sets of crossed fingers. “Bite your tongue,” she warned. “I won’t let you frighten me.”
    “Have dinner with me tonight?” he suggested.
    “I’m booked.” She grinned. “See you later.”
    She noted the rather regretful look on his handsome face—an endearing little crease at the corners of his finely chiseled mouth—but it only served to send her away more quickly. She mustn’t get tied up with a man right now; too much depended upon her keeping her wits about her. And he could be hooked up to any one of the other designers. Maartens wouldn’t stoop to unprofessional practices, nor would Adah Shere, she thought, running quickly down the roster of designers as she went toward her suite. Carlos de Sevile certainly would take any advantage he could get, legal or illegal. Of the other three, Telford was too comfortably assured of the preppie trade to bother, Ben Nowak of Chicago was too arrogant and well-established in the mass markets to need an edge, and Janus of San Francisco was only concerned with the cult group it held with its incredibly fine and sensuous leathers.
    Lauren shrugged and unlocked the door of the sitting room.
    “Who’s there?” came Nella’s wavering voice from her bedroom.
    “Lauren. I’ve come to see if you’d like a walk on deck before breakfast,” Lauren sang out cheerfully.”
    A groan was the only answer.
    Then Dani appeared in the bedroom doorway, heavy-eyed and sloppy in an old woolen dressing gown two sizes too large for her. Lauren smothered a chuckle at the thought of the reaction she’d get if she let Dani model that way.
    “Did you sleep well?” she asked blandly.
    Dani shot her a suspicious glare. “You know I was out late, Ms. Rose. I met this man in the casino. He was really doing well, raking it in. He said I was bringing him luck, and asked me to stand beside him. After a while he got tired and bought me a few—” She halted, appalled at what she’d nearly said.
    “So he bought you a few drinks,” Lauren concluded. “Lucky we aren’t putting on our show this afternoon.”
    “Gee, Ms. Rose. Are we going to be able to put a show on at all? Nella claims she’s still sick—”
    “I’ve made some other plans,” Lauren said firmly. “Oh, you get to model all the dresses that look so good on you, don’t worry. But I’ve found some substitutes for Nella.” She returned the girl’s incredulous stare with a smile. “It’s going to be good, but I’ve got to keep it under wraps until I’m sure the—the substitutes can handle it.” She smiled at Dani’s outfit. “You going to wear that number to breakfast? That’ll really put de Sevile’s mind at rest.”
    Dani grinned and turned back into the room. “Won’t be a minute,” she called out, banging the bathroom door.
    A groan from Nella acknowledged that insensitivity. Lauren went in to stand beside the woman’s bed. She looked gaunt, in spite of her generous curves. She did look ill, and Lauren decided to ask the doctor to call if Nella wasn’t back on her feet by dinnertime.
    “What can I order for you?” she asked softly. “Some orange juice? Perrier? Tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”
    Nella raised heavy lids. “I’m terribly sorry, Ms. Rose. I know I should have told you before, but I really am afraid of ships and planes.” Her voice broke.
    Lauren patted her shoulder and smoothed the red hair from her clammy forehead. “I’m going to wash your face and then ask the ship’s doctor just to glance at you. There may be something very simple he can do to make you feel a lot better.”
    Expecting an argument, Lauren was surprised when Nella agreed almost enthusiastically. “Thanks, Ms. Rose. I’ll be glad to see the doctor. Should I change out of this gown?”
    Feeling a great deal less worried about the model after that speech, Lauren went to the telephone in her bedroom and requested a visit from the ship’s doctor at his convenience.