Sympathy for the Devil (International Bad Boys Book 4) by Kelly Hunter Page A
Authors: Kelly Hunter
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fabric, standing up in rows, each row ruthlessly color coordinated by hue, saturation and lightness. Zoey’s fabric collection was art in its own right and displayed a deep appreciation for texture and color and Bree felt the faint stirrings of interest. “Behold my work area,” offered Zoey.
“It’s very orderly. And very beautiful.”
Zoey smiled as if surprised by the compliment. “I try. Doesn’t always work. But back to the information you need. Gemma’s husband beat her so badly that she finally pressed charges and away he went to jail and a whole lot of people breathed a sigh of relief. Now they’re saying—the powers that be—that there’s been a stuff-up with the hospital report and it looks like he’s going to be released.” Zoey grimaced. “Caleb’s not sorting out his love life down there, just so you know. He’s more likely to be talking to Gemma about her next moves and making sure they’re good ones.” Zoey headed towards a big old camphor-wood chest and hefted the lid. And then she lifted out a gown the likes of which Bree had never seen. And Bree had seen a lot of gowns and photographed her fair share of them. Couture gowns from Paris, New York, London and Sydney. Gowns for film and for theatre. Gowns for singing in.
The gown Zoey held up for her perusal was more beautiful than any of them.
There were only two main colors—bronze and deepest charcoal grey, but, oh, the fabrics and the textures, the incredible attention to detail when it came to piping, pleating and embroidery . . . and not just in those areas that first drew the eye. Bree had never seen better artistry. Ever.
Okay, maybe in a museum.
“ You sewed this?”
“All me. My fingers will attest to it.”
“Who’s it made for?”
“Me.”
And that was exactly what Breanna wanted to hear, because she could already see Zoey in this gown, and knew exactly what she would suggest when it came to make-up and hair. “Do you have any idea how talented you are?”
“Really?” Zoey looked delighted. “So you’ll take the job? Because we really need to discuss price before I start getting excited. I checked out some of the price lists for the photographers you recommended and, frankly, I can’t afford them. I can’t afford anywhere near the amounts they’re charging for pictures. I’m a little short on finances and I’m trying not to borrow from Eli.”
“If you make me one dress, just one, then I’ll consider us square.” Bree couldn’t resist reaching for the gown. “May I touch?”
Zoey’s smile blossomed. “I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”
Velvet, and satin, leather piping and tiny antique bronze chains. Textures seduced her fingertips and Bree was already halfway gone when it came to wondering how best to capture the beauty of this creation, what camera setting to use and how best to light Zoey.
“I wanted gold chains at one stage but finances dictated otherwise.”
“You let me photograph your work and get them in front of the right people and you will have your gold chains. You are going to be huge . You could go anywhere with this. Anywhere you want to be.”
“I just want to be an artisan and do what I do. Have a little more money to do it with, maybe.” Zoey stroked her hand over the boned and velvet beribboned bodice. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, I love my life—the fabric and the boats, the water on my doorstep and Eli in my bed. There’s no other life I’d rather lead. Every minute of every day—there’s so much love and beauty in it that I couldn’t imagine living any differently. This is it for me. It’s all I’ll ever need.”
“I get that,” Bree said softly, stroking one of the wider velvet panels of the skirt. “Sounds like a fine place to be.”
“What about you? Would you ever consider living in the bay again?”
“I wonder about it,” said Bree. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. And then I think that if this thing with Caleb
“It’s very orderly. And very beautiful.”
Zoey smiled as if surprised by the compliment. “I try. Doesn’t always work. But back to the information you need. Gemma’s husband beat her so badly that she finally pressed charges and away he went to jail and a whole lot of people breathed a sigh of relief. Now they’re saying—the powers that be—that there’s been a stuff-up with the hospital report and it looks like he’s going to be released.” Zoey grimaced. “Caleb’s not sorting out his love life down there, just so you know. He’s more likely to be talking to Gemma about her next moves and making sure they’re good ones.” Zoey headed towards a big old camphor-wood chest and hefted the lid. And then she lifted out a gown the likes of which Bree had never seen. And Bree had seen a lot of gowns and photographed her fair share of them. Couture gowns from Paris, New York, London and Sydney. Gowns for film and for theatre. Gowns for singing in.
The gown Zoey held up for her perusal was more beautiful than any of them.
There were only two main colors—bronze and deepest charcoal grey, but, oh, the fabrics and the textures, the incredible attention to detail when it came to piping, pleating and embroidery . . . and not just in those areas that first drew the eye. Bree had never seen better artistry. Ever.
Okay, maybe in a museum.
“ You sewed this?”
“All me. My fingers will attest to it.”
“Who’s it made for?”
“Me.”
And that was exactly what Breanna wanted to hear, because she could already see Zoey in this gown, and knew exactly what she would suggest when it came to make-up and hair. “Do you have any idea how talented you are?”
“Really?” Zoey looked delighted. “So you’ll take the job? Because we really need to discuss price before I start getting excited. I checked out some of the price lists for the photographers you recommended and, frankly, I can’t afford them. I can’t afford anywhere near the amounts they’re charging for pictures. I’m a little short on finances and I’m trying not to borrow from Eli.”
“If you make me one dress, just one, then I’ll consider us square.” Bree couldn’t resist reaching for the gown. “May I touch?”
Zoey’s smile blossomed. “I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”
Velvet, and satin, leather piping and tiny antique bronze chains. Textures seduced her fingertips and Bree was already halfway gone when it came to wondering how best to capture the beauty of this creation, what camera setting to use and how best to light Zoey.
“I wanted gold chains at one stage but finances dictated otherwise.”
“You let me photograph your work and get them in front of the right people and you will have your gold chains. You are going to be huge . You could go anywhere with this. Anywhere you want to be.”
“I just want to be an artisan and do what I do. Have a little more money to do it with, maybe.” Zoey stroked her hand over the boned and velvet beribboned bodice. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, I love my life—the fabric and the boats, the water on my doorstep and Eli in my bed. There’s no other life I’d rather lead. Every minute of every day—there’s so much love and beauty in it that I couldn’t imagine living any differently. This is it for me. It’s all I’ll ever need.”
“I get that,” Bree said softly, stroking one of the wider velvet panels of the skirt. “Sounds like a fine place to be.”
“What about you? Would you ever consider living in the bay again?”
“I wonder about it,” said Bree. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. And then I think that if this thing with Caleb
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