Free Undressed by Avery Aster

up at the airport and shuttled them through the cobblestone streets to the factory. Located in Milan’s garment district on Via Monte Napoleone, the Girasoli center took up three city blocks. Today the factory was deserted.
    “You weren’t kidding about it being closed, were ya?” she acknowledged as she stepped out from the limo into the hot sun.
    “Italians take their holidays with feverish intent.” He typed in a ten key password to the main entrance. After deactivating the alarm, he pushed open the security door and motioned her through the main lobby.
    “We are standing in the textile plant. This is where we bring the fabrics in from France, India and our own smaller factories in the northern countryside near Trent. The fabrics are dyed and cut, then sent to our second building, where they are stretched, packed and shipped.”
    Lex walked through the aisles, and he watched in admiration as she glanced over silk and cotton. Her legs were longer than he’d remembered.
    “Is this where the fabric is treated, as well?”
    “ Sì . We dry spin your fabrics with the elastin fabrics and blend the cotton.”
    He walked her from room to room, passing the consumer showroom, a large department store mockup. His team had designed it to resemble Selfridges in London.
    “I’ve seen your showroom in the magazines. The write up in Vogue Italia three years ago prompted me to call your sales office. I can’t believe I’m here in person, with you.” Her grin stretched ear to ear.
    “It is my honor to share this with you.” It made him feel good to see her happy after yesterday’s pique. But he couldn’t give in to her demands.
    “What’s this?” Lex walked into a space set up to resemble a boudoir.
    “This is our new branded retail line going to the States next season.”
    “This is your Easton Essentials knockoff?”
    “I would not say it is a copy, Lex. You are here to witness how different our concept is. Maybe we are using the fabric the same way, but mine is more fitting to the female form.”
    “How… different it is.It’s interesting,” Lex’s face turned sour. With each garment she picked up, a deeper frown pressed.
    “What is it? Why are you making such a displeased look?” He stepped closer. Massimo expected her to be unenthused, but not repulsed.
    “It’s nothing, you’re right. These designs are not copies.”
    Lex took one off the hanger and went over to the mannequin form in the room’s corner. “This dress form is about a size four.” She slid the Girasoli over the mannequin and spun the form around, pulling the garment’s bottom. Stepping back, eyeing him with a questioning pop in her eyes which annoyed him, she tested, “Do you not see it?”
    Never one to be quizzed, he attempted to retain composure. “I see a very sexy dress from compression fabric. It will go into production in six colors and be available with a scoop, X or V neck.” Not a copy reverberated in his head as he put his hands in his pockets to play with his loose change. What was she getting at?
    “Let’s continue the tour.” She slipped the garb off the mannequin and put it back on the rack.
    He put his hand up blocking her from leaving the boudoir. “You see something. Tell me.” He took her waist in his hand as she passed, pulling her back into him. “Please—”
    Staring into his eyes, Lex smiled without a flinch and then turned back to the rack. “These are designed by Jemma. I’m sure she looks hot in them. But these are not appropriate patterns for anyone larger than a size six.”
    “These dresses will be made up to a size Large, a size eight,” Massimo boasted.
    “For starters, in the States, a size Large is a size ten, not a size eight. And on your hanger is a small. But the sizes can be worked out later, when you start production. Two, four, six, eight is not what I’m getting at.” She sighed in annoyance.
    “Pardon?” he asked, his concern growing. “What are you trying to tell