and salads.
Natalie swallowed her first bite of iceberg lettuce, bacon and blue cheese before she spoke. “When I was a little girl I always had to wear hand-me-downs from my older sister. She rarely got new clothes, so by the time they got to me you can just imagine how well-worn they were. But I loved clothes and I loved fashion. We’d go to the supermarket and I’d stand in the magazine aisle and pore through Vogue while I waited for my mother. My sister use to tease me, pointing at a picture and saying, ‘Oh, how pretty, pretty! Too bad you can’t have it.’ So one day I set off to prove her wrong. I was tall and skinny as a teenager and someone said I should model. The first chance I had I went to New York and signed with a modeling agency. They sent me to Europe and the rest is history. But a few years ago it dawned on me that I couldn’t model forever. I needed to do something else but I knew I wanted to stay in the industry. And Pretty, Pretty came into being.”
“So what’s next?” Tinjin questioned. He swiped at his lips with his cloth napkin.
“I’m all about the editorial. I’d like to give Anna Wintour a run for her money and take Pretty, Pretty into mainstream media.”
“So you want it to be a full-fledged magazine like Vogue?”
“With technology today, I’d like Pretty, Pretty to be the premiere digital fashion magazine and even better than Vogue.”
Tinjin sat staring at her for a moment.
“What?” she questioned, a wave of nervous anxiety washing over her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I’m really impressed. And surprised. Beauty and brains.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I meant it as one.”
A pregnant pause swelled full and thick as they sat studying each other until Hannah and a second waiter slipped in to bring them their food.
Natalie’s smile was bright. “So what about you? Tell me more about your shoe company.”
“Tinjin Designs is my dream come true. I’ve been designing since my first art class at Savannah College of Art and Design.”
“You went to SCAD?”
He nodded. “I did. I took a fashion design course to get close to a girl I liked. She dropped out of the class and I stayed.”
“And shoes became your specialty?”
“I had a very successful menswear line while I was in college and then I moved on to shoes for the experience.”
“What was your men’s line?”
“The Tin-men Collection carried exclusively by Nordstrom’s.”
“That was your line?”
“You know it?”
Natalie shrugged. “No,” she said, a grin filling her face as she shook her head.
Tinjin laughed. “Cute.”
“Actually, I do know it. Your designs walked the runway with the Diane Von Furstenberg collection one year, if I recall.”
Tinjin’s eyes narrowed a bit. “How’d you know that?”
“That was one of the first runway shows I ever walked. I remember everything about it. So what happened?”
“I needed to grow. I put the Tin-men Collection on the back burner and moved to Europe. After being there a month I happened into an internship at Jimmy Choo. I worked my way up learning everything I could about women’s shoe designs. Now I’m ready to branch off, build both lines and expand.”
“So Tinjin Designs is born.”
He nodded. “It is.”
“Why not men’s shoes?” Natalie questioned. “Since your menswear line was so successful, why not transition into men’s shoes instead?”
“Because I love women and their feet more.”
“So you have a foot fetish?”
Tinjin laughed. “I like the line of a woman’s leg when she’s wearing a beautiful heel. I’m not limiting myself, though. I’ll eventually have a collection for your body and your home. Maybe even a fragrance. There’s no telling what I might do next!”
Natalie nodded. “I think that’s great but your business name sucks.”
“Excuse me?”
“The name, Tinjin Designs. It stinks. You know a brand name can make or break you.”
Tinjin chuckled. “So, do you have a better idea?”
“Spin off your original business name. The Tin-men Collection for Women...Tin-men for Her...Tin-men Footwear...Tin-men for the Home. You’ve already had success with the Tin-men brand so you should capitalize on that.”
Tinjin dropped his fork to his plate as he pondered her comments.
“You can thank me later,” Natalie said as she savored the last bite of her steak. “Meanwhile, I’m ready to order dessert. They have a mean chocolate bread pudding with bourbon sauce.”
* * *
The crowds were still thick as people moved from terminal to terminal, looking for someplace warm and comfortable to rest themselves. Heading back to terminal eight and the American Airlines lounge, Tinjin and Natalie boarded the train, pushing their way to the middle of the aisle. Natalie looped her arm around the metal pole that ran from floor to ceiling and planted her high heels firmly, her feet spread slightly apart. Tinjin moved in behind her, wrapping his own hand on the same pole right above hers.
The ride was unsteady and with the train’s first lurch and shudder, Natalie’s body fell into his. Instinctively, Tinjin wrapped his free arm around her thin waist to steady her. His fingers pressed against the waistband of her slacks, his palm heating the flesh beneath her clothes. He pulled her against his body, allowing her to brace her weight against his own. She fit against him nicely, he thought, the curve of her buttocks settling easily into the well of his crotch. A quiver of electricity tightened the muscle between his legs. Tinjin closed his eyes, biting down against his bottom lip to stall the sensation.
Natalie inhaled swiftly, the unexpected touch causing a wave of heat to shoot through her midsection. If she had not been standing on those six-inch stilettos she might have shifted her body from his but the unsteadiness of the ride combined with her precarious footing was a recipe for disaster. It felt good to be able to lean on him for support. She felt herself relax.
She turned her head to stare back at him. Tinjin smiled, an easy bend to his full lips. When she didn’t speak, moving her gaze back to the view in front of them, he let his fingers gently tease her flesh, tapping lightly atop her clothes. Three stops later Natalie stepped out of his arms, rushing out of the train to put some distance between them. She took a deep breath and blew it out heavily. By the time Tinjin reached her side, she’d heaved another deep sigh.
“Do you need help with your bag?” Tinjin asked. His eyes danced over her face, resting on the look she was giving him.
She shook her head. The carryall felt good in her hands, almost like a security blanket for her to hide behind. She continued shaking her head as she turned an about-face and headed for the lounge area.
Once inside both were surprised to find their original seats still vacant. Tinjin and Natalie would have both bet those front-row seats would have been grabbed while they’d been gone. Settling themselves back down, both sat staring to the outside.
Hours later they were still talking, discovering the six degrees of separation between them. In London they often frequented the same spots, had attended the same parties, were acquainted with mutual friends and despite running in the same circles had never before crossed paths. The more they talked the more they were both amazed at how their small