by Sarah Peis
Oliver hadn’t said a word, just stood next to me like a statue. This was not a good sign.
“Just making sure you’re not running headfirst into another mistake.”
I had never met this version of my friend and roommate/landlord. He was usually the quiet guy who let you make your own mistakes and then lectured you. But I never felt it came from a bad place. Until now.
“Okay, well, thanks for your concern, but it’s unnecessary.”
Lincoln sighed and shook his head. “I’ll see you at home.”
“Yeah, see you,” I said and turned to Oliver once Lincoln had left. “That was weird.”
“You’re moving in with me,” Oliver said and pulled me to him, erasing any space between us.
I arched an eyebrow and laughed. “Not happening. We’ve only been dating for about two seconds.”
“We have been together for months. This thing between us is not new.”
“We weren’t together,” I defended and tried to step back, but he held me in place.
“I wasn’t sleeping with anyone else.”
“Neither was I. But you were engaged, so there’s that. Probably a little worse than just sleeping with someone else,” I said, the feeling of euphoria that he usually elicited quickly leaving me. “To me that means you weren’t that serious about us.” I held a hand up when he tried to say something. “Don’t say anything. You usually just make things worse. You’re better with actions than words.”
He said nothing but leaned down and brushed his lips over my cheek. I sighed at the sweet gesture, my body losing all its tension and melting into him. I made it way too easy for him. No wonder guys screwed me over all the time.
As soon as he felt me giving in, his lips were on mine, and he didn’t waste any time easing into things. No, it was a kiss meant to claim. After he had sufficiently made my head spin, he leaned back to look at me.
“If you moved in, you wouldn’t have to pay rent. And I live close to the shop.”
“My rent at the moment isn’t all that much, and I currently live only a short walk away. And I wouldn’t ever just move in and not pay my share.”
“I don’t like the idea of you going home to Lincoln.”
“And now we’re getting to the real reason why you want me to move in.” I patted his pecs and stepped back, and this time he let me. I felt a pang of disappointment that I quickly shoved down. Of course he didn’t really want me to move in. He was just jealous and trying to stake his claim.
“I need to get back out front and give Chloe a hand.”
“Maisie, that’s not why I asked you to move in with me.”
“Please don’t make this worse.”
“I mean yes, I thought of it because I don’t like that guy. But I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t really want to live with you.”
“It’s fine, Oliver. Let’s not talk about it right now, okay? I’m planning on eating my weight in mug brownies in the next few minutes, and that’s taking all my energy right now.”
I was also too scared that I couldn’t stop my hurt feelings from showing on my face. My emotions were too close to the surface, and I realized I didn’t yet fully trust that Oliver and I would make it.
“What do you need me to do?” he asked, for once not pushing things.
“Do you know how to sew?”
He rumbled a deep laugh, his eyes twinkling and his dimple showing. “Definitely not. I was thinking more like organizing lunch, getting you coffee. You know, easy stuff.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“Got my laptop in the car, and if you don’t mind, I can just set up shop in your office and do some work from here.”
“In that case, I’d like a mocha with extra cream and whatever sandwich Rayna has left. They all taste great, so I don’t mind which one you get.”
He kissed me on the lips and winked. “Okay, beautiful, that I can do. I’ll be right back.”
I followed him out to the shop, and after one last glance at me over his shoulder, he left.
“Where did you meet someone like that? Can’t have been in Humptulips,” Chloe asked, her eyes still on the now empty doorway.
I grinned and shook my head. “That’s a story that I will take to the grave with me.”
“Oh, come on, now I really want to know! Was it kinky? Did you meet at a sex club? Or maybe you signed up to be his mail-order bride? No, wait, I bet you had a flat tire on the side of the road and he came to your rescue.” Chloe looked to the window with a dreamy expression, and I made a loud gagging noise. I was mature like that.
“No, nothing like that. And I’m not telling. Nobody knows. And especially not my employees. I need you to fear me, not laugh at me.”
“I’m going to find out what happened.”
“No you won’t. Now let’s get back to work so I can try to figure out how I’ll make all these dresses.”
I went back to my office and just stared at the computer screen. It wasn’t physically possible for me to make that many dresses that quickly. I was still debating whether I could swing paying another seamstress to give me a hand when Oliver came back.
“Coffee, sandwiches, and a few cakes that Rayna insisted on packing for you.”
I grinned big and accepted the bag he held out to me. He put the coffee on my desk and sat down, facing me.
“Come up with any ideas yet?”
“Offer someone my firstborn to help me make the dresses?”
“Considering that will be my child as well, we should probably go with another option. Kind of prefer to keep our children and not sell them off before they’re even born.”
Well, call me Friedrich and slap me with a fish, I wasn’t expecting that response. I also had nothing to say to that, so I just stared. Because that was all I could do at that point.
“Don’t look so shocked. I figured you understood that I was in this for the long run.”
He leaned in and put a finger on my chin, shutting my mouth for me. Didn’t even realize it was hanging open.
“Right. Well, that’s good. Really good,” I squeaked, immediately wishing I could take the words back and come up with something witty. And smart. I definitely liked it when I sounded smart. But that train had gone and left the station.
“Okay, baby, I’ll let you get back to work. I’m just going to set up on the table. Let me know if you need anything.”
He touched his lips to mine and walked over to the small table and chair in the corner of my crammed office, unpacking his laptop and a thick folder.
We spent the next few hours working. Well, Oliver was working. I was trying to contain my freak-out while looking up seamstresses. There were a lot out there, but hardly anyone could just drop everything to make a few hundred dresses. I was so screwed.
“You’re not screwed. It will all work out,” Oliver said, looking at me over his computer.
Shit, must have said that last part out loud. “I think I really am this time. There is no way I can pull this off. I think I need to email my customers about the delay. This is a nightmare. How did I get it so horribly wrong? I must be the shittiest businesswoman out there. I mean, who doesn’t plan for extra orders?”
Oliver had gotten up during my pity party for one and was now standing next to me.
“Let’s not worry about it anymore today. It’s past eight already.”
I groaned and flopped my head down on my desk with a loud bang.
“We can get tapas for dinner,” he said and started massaging my neck.
At that, my head shot up, and I nodded. “And margaritas?”
Oliver kissed my cheek, and it made me instantly feel better. “Of course. Anything for you, beautiful.”
Well, then, if that was how we would play this, today I would order pretty much everything off the menu, only eat about one-third, and take the rest home to eat for the next four days. I couldn’t wait.
“Is she in there?”
“I thought the shop opened at n
ine.”
“Why are the lights out?”
“Sheila, didn’t you say nine o’clock?”
“Where’s Mary? She would know.”
“What does the sign say?”
“Just call her. She’s probably still with that developer boy.”
“His name is Oliver. And he’s not a boy.”
I watched the crowd in front of my shop, wondering what was going on. So far I had never had anyone wait outside for me to open.
“I hope you didn’t bring your Singer. It always stuffs up the blanket stitch.”
“Keep your pants on. I brought my Brother.”
“Maisie, girl, there you are. Come on, don’t just stand there looking like a blow-up doll left out in the rain. Open the door.”
I walked closer, a little scared to face the crowd. I recognized most of them. None had been to my shop yet, and it confused me what they were all doing here now. I didn’t exactly stock the clothes they wore.
“Good morning, everyone,” I said and walked through the women who had cleared a path for me to the front door. I unlocked it and walked inside, holding the door open. “Please, come in.”
“This is such a magnificent idea, thanks for thinking of us, dear,” Loretta said when she passed me.
I blinked at her in confusion, but she obviously didn’t expect an answer and instead walked farther inside the store, inspecting the clothes.
In fact, all the women had a piece of fabric in their hand as soon as they were inside, inspecting the stitching.
Martha was the last one to come inside, and she stopped in front of me. “Where do you want to do this?”
“I don’t understand,” I said and closed the door once everyone was inside.
“Don’t worry, we won’t take up much of your time. We’ll just need you to talk us through the designs, and then we can get started.”
“The designs?”
“Of the dresses, of course. Are you all right? You look like you’re still half asleep. Did that boy keep you up all night?” That was followed by a few hummed agreements and at least two winks—that I saw, anyway.
“What dresses?” I tried again, still not sure why they were here.
“Well, didn’t you need to make all those dresses? We figured if we took twenty each, we’ll get it done in three weeks. That will give you a week to make any amendments that you need. But I assure you, our work is excellent. You won’t have any complaints. Isn’t that right, ladies?” Martha said, looking around the room. There were quite a few nods.
“But how do you know that I need help?”
“That boy, of course. He came to us yesterday,” Loretta said. “He is such a gentleman. You should try to keep this one.”
“Oliver? He went to see you?”
“Yes, of course he did. Why else would we be here? But the sooner you show us the designs, the quicker we can get started.”
I shuffled on my feet, unsure how to ask the next question. But it had to be asked, because this was my reputation on the line. I would rather have to tell people the wait for their dresses would be longer than deliver subpar products. “And you all have experience making dresses?”
There were a few laughs, and Loretta nodded. “Don’t you read the Hump? We’re in there all the time for winning sewing competitions. Even went to LA and New York last year.”
The pride in her voice was clear, and I guessed sometimes you just had to trust someone. And even after all that had happened, I trusted Oliver, mostly. “Okay, ladies, let’s do this. If you follow me to the storeroom, I’ll show you what I need.”
The storeroom was the only place big enough for everyone. I couldn’t do this in the shop since we had people come in and out all the time.
Chloe had come in while I was talking to everyone, and she waved in greeting when the group went to the back.
I waved back and pointed to the back door. “I’ll be in the storeroom if you need anything.”
She gave me a thumbs-up. “Got it. Have fun.”
Not sure about the fun part, but apparently Oliver had just saved my ass. I wondered when he had the time to mobilize the Humptulips sewing club.
My phone chimed a few times, but I ignored it. Instead, I focused on pulling out designs, dividing up the work, and copying everything they would need to make my dresses.
“My fabrics are stored in here, and I should have enough for all the dresses but will double-check after the opening today. There are supplies in the little tubs along the wall. Help yourself to whatever you need. If you need to buy anything, just let me know and I’ll reimburse you.”
“Don’t worry, we’ve got this,” Loretta said, already walking toward the row of fabric.
“Oh, and don’t forget to write down the hours you work on each dress so you can invoice me at the end.” I looked at their confused faces and quickly added, “You can, of course, get a weekly salary if you prefer. I’m just really grateful for your help, so whatever works for you is fine by me.”
Martha shook her head and went back to sorting through bundles of cloth. “You’re not paying us. We’re doing this to help out.”
Everyone else mumbled their assent, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say they even looked insulted by my suggestion to pay them. But there was no way I could accept that.
“No way. I’m paying you. That’s a shit ton of work you’re doing for me.”
“Just invite us to your wedding. Because judging by the quality of your man’s suits, the wedding is going to be out of this world.”
I nearly choked on the air I was inhaling. “Sorry, what?”
“Great,” Martha said, clapping her hands. “Now that that’s settled, we should get started. Lorene, you take these,” she said and handed out sheets. “Your blind stitch is out of this world. You’ll make this dress look amazing.”
She went on like that, knowing everyone’s preferences and skills, and gave out assignments accordingly. I watched in awe as everyone got to work pulling down fabrics and selecting yarn. Twenty minutes later, I was alone in the half-empty storeroom, wondering what in the world just happened.
“Maisie, you okay to come back out front?” Chloe asked, popping her head through the door.
“Sure. Just give me a minute to get the paper lamps from my office.”
“It’s getting crazy out there,” she said and disappeared again.
I had my other shopgirl, Ashlyn, out there today. She was quiet and seemed shy around Chloe and me, but she was great with customers. She was also good with numbers, and her attention to detail was amazing. The shop had never looked better.
Today was our grand opening, and I had been running late getting here. I was planning on arriving at the shop at least two hours before it opened to give me a chance to put the lampshades up. They were DIY shades I had put together last night but didn’t have time to hang up.
But my morning had been anything but normal. First Sir Lancelot pissed in the shoes I wanted to wear. I had about two hundred pairs, but he chose the ones I had carefully picked out the night before. Luckily I had a pair of backup heels.
When I got to the kitchen, I was greeted with a hungover Lincoln. Or maybe he hadn’t gone to bed yet, since he was wearing yesterday’s clothes.
“There she is. The woman of the hour,” he greeted me when I walked into the kitchen.
I wrinkled my nose when he hugged me since he smelled like he had dumped beer all over himself and then jumped into a puddle of Jack Daniels. I could still feel wet spots on his clothes. And he had squashed my nose right into his pecs. I pulled back and stepped out of his reach, putting some much-needed space between us. There was a piece of chip stuck in his hair, and I fought the urge to pluck it out. Best not to get too close again.
“Lincoln. What happened to you?”
“I had a night out. Aren’t I allowed to have fun every once in a while?”
I walked over to the coffee machine to get it started. I was already running late at that stage. “O
f course you are. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk.”
He staggered to a chair and took a seat, falling into the wood with a heavy pop.
“Well, this seemed like a good time to try out my drinking legs. By the way, they’re nonexistent. I fell head down into a plate of nachos after only five beers and then bumped into a full tray of Jack Daniel’s shots. That I had to pay for.”
“Did you just get home?”
“Yeah, I passed out on my friend’s couch. It happened mid-drink, so I spilled beer all over myself.”
I smiled at the image. Now that would have been a fun sight to see. I got a regular mug and a travel mug down and filled them as soon as the coffee pot was half full. I set the mug down in front of Lincoln and closed the lid on mine.
“You know, I always thought we were really good together,” Lincoln said, halting my movements. I had an unpleasant feeling I knew where this conversation was going. My stomach revolted at the idea. I hadn’t even had a sip of coffee yet. And he knew my defenses were down in the morning.
“We are good together. What better way is there than roommates who are also friends?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, hating that we were having this conversation. He had always been a great friend. I didn’t want to lose him.
“Look, I really need to go. I have a lot going on at the moment.” I made a noncommittal gesture with my hand.
“Yeah, about that. What exactly is going on with you? Are you and Oliver together now? Even though he cheated on you?”
My cheeks heated as I narrowed my eyes. “He didn’t cheat.”
“No, he did one better. He was engaged and lied about it. You were awful quick to forgive him.”
I took a deep breath in, not wanting to yell. What the fuck ever. Who was I kidding? I was most definitely going to yell. “He didn’t cheat. They were never together like that!” I set down my coffee mug. It was too precious to spill.
“Bullshit. You can’t tell me he got engaged to someone and didn’t have a relationship with them.”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. And I believe him. I trust him. He is the first guy to ever treat me like I matter. Like I’m the most important thing in his life. Why would he lie to me about his engagement?”
