Tailor-Made

by Yolanda Wallace

  “At the time, I thought I was so upset because I was losing my best friend. When you came out the next year, I realized she meant much more to me than that. She wasn’t just a friend. She was the first person I ever truly loved.”

  “Did you ever tell her so?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it wouldn’t have made any difference. If she didn’t feel the same way about me as I did about her, I didn’t want to know. And if she returned my feelings, there was no way her father would have turned down a six-figure salary just so Lauren and I could be together.”

  “Were you still dealing with those feelings when I came out the following year?”

  Brooke nodded. “That’s one of the reasons I was so affected by the things you said. In a way, it felt like you had stolen my thunder. You felt comfortable enough to define yourself as something I couldn’t bring myself to. And when Mom and Dad turned on you, I was glad I had opted to keep my feelings to myself. Having you around made it easier for me to deal with everything. Even if it may have seemed like I couldn’t stand you at times.”

  “Do you care to rephrase that?”

  “Okay, all the time.”

  “Are you still attracted to women?” Dakota asked after she and Brooke shared an uneasy laugh.

  “No, Lauren is the only one I’ve ever thought of in that way. I got in touch with her on social media a few years ago. Partly out of curiosity. I started thinking about her after I received a friend request from a former classmate. I wanted to know if she looked the same as I remembered.”

  “Does she?” Dakota had barely been able to recognize some of the former classmates that had sent her friend requests over the years. Time was a cruel mistress, and she had apparently been a complete bitch to more than a few people.

  “She has the same smile, but everything else has changed. I’m sure she can say the same about me. I follow her posts, but there’s a disconnect. It’s like when someone you have only a passing acquaintance with sends you a Christmas card with a family newsletter stuffed inside. You read the newsletter because it’s right there in front of you, but you don’t know anyone mentioned in it enough to care about the milestones they achieved during the year. When I see the pictures of Lauren, her husband, and their kids pop up on my feed, I don’t feel the spark I did when we were younger. Maybe it was just a phase. Maybe it was just a crush. Maybe it was more. I don’t know. I was tempted to send her a wedding invitation, but I thought it would have been weird since we haven’t seen each other in so long.”

  “Have you told Kevin?”

  “That we won’t be getting an extra toaster oven?”

  “No, that you used to have feelings for Lauren.”

  “He and I told each other about our respective sexual histories when we started becoming serious because it’s the responsible thing to do in this day and age, but I didn’t say anything about my attraction to her because my bond with her was emotional rather than physical. I don’t want him to ever feel like I’m keeping secrets from him or hiding part of myself, but I honestly don’t know how he would react if I told him. I don’t want to risk what we have if I don’t have to.”

  “Don’t worry about how he might react to hearing about something that happened more than a decade ago. Just ask yourself one question. Do you love him? Because it doesn’t matter who meant what to you in your past as long as he’s the one you want in your future.”

  Brooke rested her head on Dakota’s shoulder. “I knew there was a reason I came to see you.” Dakota leaned the side of her head against the top of Brooke’s, enjoying the kind of closeness she and her sister hadn’t experienced since they were kids. “I missed this,” Brooke whispered. “I miss you.”

  Dakota swallowed around the lump in her throat. “We shouldn’t wait so long to get together next time. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

  “That goes double for you, party animal.”

  “I’m not partying nearly as hard as I used to.”

  “Because of Grace?”

  “No, because of me. The last few times I’ve gone out have been kind of disappointing. It felt like I’d already been there and done that, so why should I do it again?” In fact, she’d had much more fun sitting at a baseball game with Grace or conversing with her over a platter of appetizers than she had popping bottles in the latest hot new club. One felt like a performance; the other felt real. But how long would the feeling last?

  “Mom and Dad’s fortieth anniversary is in September,” Brooke said. “Townsend and I are throwing a party for them. Nothing fancy. Just a sit-down dinner with family and a few of their closest friends. I made reservations at their favorite restaurant, the seafood place on Lazzaretto Creek they used to take us to on our birthdays.”

  Dakota smiled at the memory of past family outings to the dockside restaurant that served some of the best and freshest seafood in the country. Every time they walked in, she, Brooke, and Townsend would press their faces against the oversized aquarium in the lobby. The one teeming with all sorts of colorful tropical fish. And no matter what the weather was like, they would always insist on getting a table outside so they could watch shrimpers cast their nets from the dock or fishing boats return to shore carrying their latest hauls. Dakota had dined in several five-star restaurants since then, but despite the ritzy establishments’ elaborate settings and exorbitant prices, none of them compared to the humble family-owned restaurant on Tybee Island where she sat at butcher paper–covered tables, servers dumped buckets of piping-hot steamed shrimp in front of her, and she discarded the shells by tossing them in the round hole cut in the center of the table.

  “Can I add you to the guest list?” Brooke asked. “Even if they haven’t said it, I’m sure Mom and Dad would love it if you came.”

  Dakota hoped Brooke was being honest instead of projecting her newfound fuzzy feelings on someone else, but there was no way she could know for sure unless she was willing to make the effort. Unless she was willing to risk getting hurt in order to heal.

  “Sure,” she said. “Pencil me in.” Players began to drift off the course after the first paintball game came to an end. Brooke’s team had been victorious, but Dakota felt like the real winner. After all these years of forced separation, she finally had her sister back. Perhaps the rest of her family would soon follow. “Are you ready for the next round?”

  Brooke shook her head and pushed herself to her feet. “I’ve got to book a flight. My wedding won’t plan itself, you know,” she added with a wink. She wrapped her arms around Dakota and squeezed her tight. “I love you, big sister.”

  Dakota was taken aback by the unexpected display of affection. She hesitated before she returned the pressure—and the sentiment. “I love you, too, little sis.”

  “Thanks for listening.”

  “Thanks for letting me in.”

  “Give me a call when you’d like to return the favor.”

  Dakota could tell Brooke was being sincere instead of paying lip service. “I’ll do that.”

  She eagerly awaited their next heart-to-heart talk, but there was one conversation she was looking forward to even more: the one she would soon be having with Grace. She had never been willing to bet her heart on anyone. Until now. With Grace, she felt like going all in. Now that she had admitted it to herself, it was time to share the news with Grace. And as far as she was concerned, that time couldn’t come soon enough.

  * * *

  The service was running long and Grace’s stomach was growling. She glanced at her watch, more focused on the chicken and waffles she planned to have for brunch than she was on the topic of today’s sermon—a long-winded rumination on the difference between faith and belief. After more than ninety minutes, she still wasn’t sure which was which. Or why one was more important than the other. When her phone buzzed, she reached for it like a drowning woman being thrown a lifeline.

  “Unless that’s Jesus himself,” her mother said under her br
eath, “I suggest you let that call go to voice mail.”

  “It might be important,” Grace said as her phone continued to vibrate. She pulled out her trump card. “It could be work.”

  Her mother covered her hand with her own. “In case you’ve forgotten,” she said, drawing Grace’s hand out of her purse, “let me remind you that Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest. Work can wait until tomorrow.”

  “At this rate, we’ll still be sitting here listening to Reverend Davis speak when tomorrow comes.”

  Her mother covered her mouth with her program to hide her smile.

  “For a while there, I thought I was going to have to separate you two,” Grace’s father said when the service finally ended. Her mother and sisters were already making their way to the restaurant, but her father had asked her to stay behind while he greeted Reverend Davis and his wife and congratulated Reverend Davis on “yet another fine sermon.” Grace had come close to rolling her eyes on that one, but she had somehow managed to hold herself in check. As she suspected, her father had an ulterior motive for asking her to perform a chore normally allotted to her mother. “Last night’s announcement probably took you by surprise.”

  “To say the least.”

  “And I’m sure you’re waiting for an explanation for why I didn’t tell you first.”

  “An explanation would be nice, but it isn’t required.”

  Her father smiled as he chucked her under her chin. “You and Faith have always been the peacemakers in the family. That’s what makes this so hard. I want to do right by everyone, but no matter what I decide to do, at least two of the women I love more than anyone in this world will be mad at me.”

  “You’ve fielded offers before—none as lucrative as this one, of course—but you turned all of them down without giving them a second thought. Why are you losing sleep over this one? Is it the amount of money involved?”

  “Yes and no. The money’s eye-opening, but it’s more a matter of timing. I want your mother and me to be able to enjoy my retirement, which we can’t do if I keep putting it off. And I want you and your sisters to be able to enjoy yourselves without breaking your backs to make a living, which the money would allow you to do. Are Faith and Hope responsible enough to handle having access to that much disposable income at once? I have my doubts about that, but one of the hardest parts of being a parent is allowing your children to learn from their mistakes.”

  “This could be a rather expensive learning opportunity, don’t you think?”

  “That it could. On the other hand, it could also give you the push you need to do what you really want to do.”

  “I already am, Dad.”

  “Yes, but you could do more.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Her father stopped walking and turned to face her. “When you took on your new roster of clients, I had my doubts about where you—and the company—were headed, but I can see how happy servicing them makes you. And how happy meeting with you makes them. Instead of continuing my legacy, why don’t you establish your own?”

  “That’s what Hope said.”

  “Though not in the same terms, I’m sure,” he said with a knowing smile.

  “No, not even close.”

  “The two of you have always been like oil and water. I keep hoping in vain you’ll find a way to mix.”

  “Keep hoping. It’ll probably happen the same day the lions finally lie down with the lambs.”

  “And what a glorious day that will be for all concerned,” her father said, sounding remarkably like Reverend Davis. “In all seriousness, you’re about to establish your own company. Be the face of your own brand. You can’t afford to have any slipups, either personally or professionally. Are you ready to be your own boss? I’ve got to warn you it feels different when everything falls on your shoulders instead of someone else’s.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. What if I’m not cut out to be the person in charge? What if I’m meant to be the second-in-command?”

  “Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. Play by the rules you’ve set for yourself, conduct yourself professionally, treat your clients with respect, and be careful who you associate with. Take care of those things and you’ll be fine. Better than fine. You’ll be great. Better than I ever dreamed I could be. I can’t ask for any more than that.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “Spread your wings, baby girl. It’s time for you to fly.”

  Grace’s father had given her many things over the years, but she felt like she had finally received the one thing he had never granted. The one thing she had always wanted most: permission. But permission for her to run her business the way she wanted didn’t seem to extend to her personal life as well. He had told her to be careful who she associated with, but all she had heard was Stay away from Dakota Lane.

  “I have an announcement to make,” her father said after they joined her mother and sisters at the restaurant.

  “Another one?” Hope set her tea down with such force some of the contents sloshed out of the glass onto her hand.

  “Yes. Another one.”

  “What is it this time?” Faith asked.

  “Your sister has decided to go into business for herself.”

  Grace felt like the center of attention after her mother and sisters turned to stare at her. Each had questions, but Hope’s rose above the din. “Where did she get the money to do that?”

  “I’ve decided to accept Mr. Phillips’s offer,” her father said.

  “You did what?” her mother asked, her protests nearly drowned out by Hope and Faith’s squeals of delight. “Is that what you two were conspiring about while we were sitting here waiting for you to show up?”

  “Grace didn’t try to sway me one way or the other,” her father said. “In the end, I decided to do what was best for the family. The entire family.”

  Hope raised her hands heavenward. “Thank you, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

  “Does that mean we have to start paying rent?” Faith asked.

  Her father spread his napkin in his lap as he prepared to tuck into his meal. “If you want to continue living under my roof, it does. Consider it a reverse allowance.”

  “I’m down,” Faith said with a shrug. “It’s cheaper than moving out. What about you, Grace? Are you planning to stick around or find a place of your own?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” The answer depended on how much money she’d have left after she found a retail space to rent and got her business up and running. Even though it would be cheaper to stay put, she was looking forward to being on her own in more ways than one.

  “If you leave,” Faith said, “I’m calling dibs on your room. I’ve been waiting years to say that.”

  “I thought the third floor was too hot for you.”

  “It is, but I’ll be able to afford the air-conditioning.”

  Grace was sad to realize Henderson Custom Suits was coming to an end, but she was glad to see everyone in her family laughing, joking, and having a good time without the usual undercurrent of tension. “When one door closes,” she said to herself, “another one opens.”

  It was time to put the past behind her and start planning for the future. But the questions she had yet to address were the ones she needed to answer most. She was about to become busier than she had ever been as she helped shutter one business and embarked on another. For the next few months, if not years, her life wouldn’t be her own. Would she have time to find a place in it for love? And if she did, would there be a place in it for Dakota?

  With her life in flux, she would need someone steady at her side. Someone who was in it for the long haul. Dakota didn’t appear to possess either of those qualities. Grace might be able to look past that deficiency in the short term, but would she be able to do so for years to come? Before her father decided to sell the company, she might have been willing to take that risk. Now she couldn’t afford to. Emotionally or financially. When she committed herself to someo
ne, she needed to be sure the sentiment was returned. If not, everything she was trying to build could come crashing down around her.

  Play by the rules you’ve set for yourself, her father had advised her.

  Stringent though they might be, the principles she lived by had gotten her to this point. On the verge of a potentially lucrative career she could direct herself without having to answer to anyone else. She was so close to being able to live out her dreams. She couldn’t abandon her principles now. Not when she needed them most. All she needed to do was ignore the fact that her heart kept trying to tell her she needed Dakota more.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The revised version of the contract Whitaker Models offered Dakota seemed relatively straightforward, but she read the entire document three times before she initialed the bottom of each page and signed and dated the last one. When she was done, Laird handed the executed contract to his assistant so she could make a copy for Dakota to keep for her records. Then he extended his hand across his desk. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

  “Believe me, the pleasure’s mine.” Under the new terms of her contract, both her appearance and hourly fees had almost doubled. “Sorry, I can’t,” she said after Laird’s assistant Marilyn offered her a celebratory glass of champagne. “Even though I’m clocked out, I’m technically still on the job. I can’t drink until after five.”

  “More for me.” Laird raised both glasses in a toast, downed the contents of one, and leaned back in his chair. “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” he said, propping his loafer-clad feet on a corner of his desk. “I would offer to take you to lunch, but thanks to the contract you just signed, you can afford to treat me in the manner in which I’m accustomed. Where would you like to go? I might have to pull some strings, but I should be able to get us a table at Griffin Sutton’s new place.”

  “I’d love to give it a try, but I have another appointment I need to get to and I can’t afford to be late.”