Love Redesigned

by Jenny Proctor

  I half-wondered if my parents would ever return home. They’d saved long and well for their retirement, but they’d only planned on a year abroad. I wouldn’t be surprised if a year turned into two, or more. It might take grandchildren to actually get them back in the states. After a few more minutes of chit-chat, I launched into an explanation of everything I’d been through. I spared no detail as I talked through Sasha’s betrayal, and Paige’s dress, and Alex, and my sudden move back home, finally ending with Isaac and his totally unexpected room renovation.

  “Wow,” Mom said when I finished my tale. “That’s some story.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said. “But seriously, Mom. I have no idea what got into Isaac. It was so unlike him.”

  “What do you mean unlike him? That sounds just like something your brother would do.”

  I scoffed. “No, it doesn’t. Calling me Dandelion and hiding all my hairbands in the back of the toilet sounds like something he would do.”

  Mom laughed. “He was ten when that happened, Dani. Cut him some slack.”

  “It was just so out of the blue,” I said. “We haven’t gotten along in forever, and all of a sudden he’s doing this huge nice thing for me. I mean, it’s amazing. I’m grateful. I just didn’t expect it.”

  “Dani,” Mom said. “Permission to speak freely?”

  I shifted, pulling my knees up close to my chest. If I said yes, she wouldn’t hold back. “Fine, go,” I finally consented.

  “You are the most driven woman I know,” Mom said. “Single-minded. Focused. Determined.”

  I braced myself. The but was coming.

  “But sometimes that single-minded dedication inhibits your ability to see other people.”

  My shoulders tensed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, your brother has always had a heart the size of Fort Sumter.” My heart squeezed at the Mom-expression I’d frequently claimed as my own. “He’s been taking care of people since he was tiny. Sitting with the kid on the bus that no one else would sit with. Making people laugh. Making people feel included. You’ve never been very good at seeing that about him. You see an MIT drop out. I see a man who has created an entire online empire based around the notion that random acts of kindness can change the world.”

  I rolled my eyes. “His show is all about him, Mom. It’s YouTube. They’re all that way.”

  Mom cleared her throat. “When was the last time you watched his show?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Give your brother the credit he deserves, Dani. He had to swallow a lot of pride to reach out to you in this way. You’ve hurt him with your doubting and scoffing and condescension.”

  “That’s not fair,” I finally said. “Maybe that’s what he tells you, but then when he’s around me, most of the time he’s constantly making fun of me, cracking jokes, calling me Dandelion. He’s not always nice, Mom. Not to me.”

  “Maybe not. But is it possible the jokes are a part of his defense mechanism? He’s so desperate for you to be proud of him.”

  I huffed a sigh. “I am proud!”

  “Have you ever told him that?”

  “It’s not like he’s spent a ton of time being proud of me,” I said defensively. “He’s just as critical of my career choice as I am of his.”

  “He’s never been critical of what you do; he’s been critical of LeFranc. There’s a difference.”

  She had a point there. “Yeah. I’ve seen some of that since coming home. Did you know he has a picture of my prom dress on his phone?”

  Mom chuckled. “That dress was something else.”

  “That dress was horrible.”

  “You were sixteen.”

  “And I thought I was the stuff, too. I was so proud of that dress.”

  “Isaac was proud of that dress. Do you remember all the time he spent ironing the seams for you?”

  I closed my eyes. “And then when my sewing machine broke, he pinned the zipper for me while I fixed my hair.”

  Mom chuckled. “You were hand-stitching that zipper in seconds before your date showed up.”

  “I had forgotten how much he helped me that day.”

  “It might do you some good to remember, Dani. I know his jokes can hurt, but he loves you.”

  “I know. Thanks, Mom.”

  “How has it been with Alex around?”

  I sighed. “It’s fine, I guess. On the surface, anyway. But being around him so much reminds me of all the things I loved about him. That part’s hard.”

  “Do you still love him?”

  I pulled the blankets up closer, noting the softness of the sheets. Isaac hadn’t skimped. “Sometimes I think I do. But I can’t stop remembering how desperate I felt after he left. When I think of the messages I sent him, the voicemails, it’s embarrassing. And all that time he was down here with Isaac, ignoring everything I sent.”

  “Why would you feel embarrassed?” Mom asked. “You think he was seeing your messages and judging you? Laughing at you?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “Except, maybe yes. Otherwise, he would have responded.”

  “Dani, if thirty years of marriage has taught me anything, it’s that everything isn’t always about me. Sometimes your father will go silent and I’ll assume it’s because I’ve said something or done something that made him mad. And every once in a while, it does have something to do with me. But you know why he’s usually silent?”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s frustrated with himself. He’s processing, internalizing. Don’t be so quick to assume that Alex’s silence only had to do with your actions. He was surely going through something too.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

  “Have you talked about it yet?”

  I shifted, pulling the covers closer to my chin. “Not really. I mean, he apologized, which is good. I’m just having a hard time understanding why he had to run away.” I thought of the explanation he’d offered—that he legally couldn’t talk to me. Surely whatever legal order he was under hadn’t demanded wordless abandonment.

  “People make mistakes, Dani.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I thought about our hug in the kitchen this afternoon and a fresh wave of embarrassment swept over me. It had felt amazing in the moment, but thinking back, I wasn’t so sure about it. It had taken Alex a long time to hug me back and when he had, it had only been halfway. I’d probably made him so uncomfortable.

  “Hang in there, sweetie,” Mom said. “It’ll all work out.”

  “Tell Dad I said hi,” I told her. “And I love you both.”

  Before going to sleep, and with Mom’s advice fresh in my brain, I keyed out a message to Alex. I’m sorry if I made things weird with the hug.

  His response came through only seconds later. The hug was nice. I didn’t mind.

  My heart rate spiked as I read his words. Nice? What did that mean? Feeling bold, I typed out, Steven asked me out. But not until he asked me if there was something going on between me and you.

  Oh, he texted back. Okay.

  I told him no. Why did I feel like I needed to explain? To the date, I quickly amended. Also to the thing about us.

  Okay, Alex texted again.

  I pressed my phone to my forehead. Why had I even started this conversation? I chewed on my lip as I considered what to say next. My hands trembled as I keyed out my next message. I think I’m ready to talk.

  Right now? About . . . us?

  I closed my eyes. He thought there was an us? About LeFranc.

  Right. That makes more sense.

  So he didn’t think there was an us.

  I breathed out a sigh. I needed to sleep. Tomorrow is good. Or just, soon.

  Okay, he texted back. Goodnight, Dani.

  Goodnight.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alex

  It wasn’t that I wasn’t excited about the Compassion Experiment. The entire event was turning into something bigger, more impressive than anything I’d imagined. But I cou
ldn’t wait for the thing to be over. It felt as though every day brought additional problems, small details I’d forgotten about, phone calls from the other sponsors asking questions that only I knew how to answer. I hardly had enough hours in the day. Isaac and the rest of the team were as helpful as they could be, but they still had a daily show to write, film and produce. We were all stretched thin.

  I listened as Rizzo went on and on about his expectations for the actual Christmas Eve event—food he wanted to see, the number of VIP passes he expected to receive. If nothing else, the man had firmly cemented my appreciation for Isaac’s charitable heart. Rizzo still seemed incapable of grasping the actual reason for the entire event. “I hear you, Rizzo,” I said through clenched teeth. “But I’m not making any promises. I can assure you, everything about the food and the décor will meet your satisfaction. We’ve hired the best there is to handle it.”

  Dani walked into the living room, mail in her hand, and held up a few letters that must have been for me. I held up the phone, and she motioned down the hall toward my room. I nodded, sure she’d just drop them on my desk. We still hadn’t had the conversation she’d alluded to the night before. Time and privacy were scarce.

  A few minutes later, when I finally ended the call with Rizzo, Dani still hadn’t returned.

  I dropped my phone into my pocket and moved down the hallway, pausing when I reached the doorway of my room. Dani stood at my desk, Sasha’s wedding invitation in her hand.

  “Hi,” I said softly.

  She spun around, dropping the invitation back onto the desk.

  “Hi. Sorry. I just . . .” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have snooped. I saw it sitting there and curiosity got the best of me.”

  I walked over to the desk and touched the invitation with a single finger, spinning it so it faced me. “I’m honestly surprised they sent me one.”

  She sank down onto my bed, her shoulders slumped. “Are you going to go?” she asked, without looking up.

  “I wasn’t planning on it. I don’t think they truly want me there.” The thought occurred to me that she might want to attend. Fashion was her world, after all, and the wedding was sure to be one of the biggest events in fashion in quite some time. “Do you want to go? I mean, I would go. If you wanted me to take you.”

  She scoffed and I winced at the sound, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. Attending a destination wedding in the Florida Keys with your ex probably didn’t sound like a picnic.

  “I’m touched that you’d be willing to do something so horrible for my benefit, but I don’t want to go,” Dani said softly. “I couldn’t bear to see it. To see her.”

  I sat next to her, landing closer than I’d intended. I expected her to shift aside, making room, but she didn’t move. Our arms touched, the warmth of her cutting through the sleeve of my shirt and reaching my skin. I swallowed, intensely aware of how close she was. Everything about her felt familiar. The smell of her hair, the way it tumbled down her shoulders, even the rhythm of her breathing felt like something I recognized. Like all the time we’d spent in each other’s arms had somehow left a permanent imprint of her on my consciousness. I closed my eyes, remembering the lazy afternoons we’d spend lounging around, the way I’d trail my fingers over her shoulder before wrapping a curl of her hair around my finger, pulling it straight before watching it bounce back into place. She’d always swatted my hand away, claiming the more I touched her hair the frizzier it would get. But I’d rarely been able to stop myself.

  “You said you wanted to talk, right?”

  She nodded her head just slightly.

  “Is now a good time?”

  She looked my way, bringing her face only inches from mine.

  I willed the images of her out of my mind and focused on what Dani needed. She needed a friend. Someone to listen. “What happened at LeFranc?” I asked softly. “Why did you leave?”

  She sighed, looking up at the ceiling before bringing her gaze back to me.

  I couldn’t push her for details. I was curious for sure, and maybe even half-hoped that Dani’s departure had something to do with Sasha’s criminal activity. I still dreamed of confronting Alicio with the truth I knew was hidden somewhere inside his company. Sasha was a thief and a liar and maybe Dani could help me prove that.

  But I couldn’t make her leaving LeFranc about me. That wasn’t fair.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I added. I willed my voice to remain even, neutral.

  “I should tell you,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s just embarrassing. I should have seen what was happening and I didn’t. I literally walked right into her trap.”

  “Dani, Sasha is very good at manipulating people. Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t feel—”

  “I made a wedding dress for Paige,” she said, cutting me off. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever made, and it was perfect.”

  She pulled out her phone and opened up a picture, handing it over for me to see. It was a photo of Sasha in what I assumed was the wedding dress Dani had made.

  “Chase sent that to me yesterday. She just showed it to the design team. It’s the first in the Sasha Wellington Collection, LeFranc’s debut line of wedding gowns. That’s the one she plans to wear at her wedding.”

  “Except you made it,” I said.

  She nodded. “For Paige. Sasha saw it and promised that if I let her have it, she’d make me lead designer on her new team. I thought she just wanted it to be a part of the line, that she for sure already had her own dress designed, but I was wrong. I caught her wearing the dress, having it altered to fit her. She stole it. And she never had any intention of letting me design with her. It was a lie just so she could get her hands on the dress.”

  I cursed, familiar frustration welling up inside. The woman was rotten from the inside out. “She can’t really get away with it, can she? Surely someone would believe you if you came forward and told them what happened.”

  “Why would anyone believe me? Sasha’s a powerful woman. She threatened to ruin my name in the industry, and she could, too. Negative feedback from LeFranc? There’s not a designer in all of New York that would hire me with that on my resume.”

  I hated to admit it, but she was right. Sasha really did have that kind of influence. Not that she deserved it.

  “What about Paige? Can you make her the dress again?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. It would cost me hundreds of dollars to buy the lace and fabric I would need. Plus, where would I work? All my sewing stuff is still in a trailer parked at Mirna’s house in Brooklyn. What’s more, I’m pretty sure if I made the same dress, Sasha would find a way to sue me for stealing her idea.”

  “Paige is just one person. How would Sasha even know that Paige wore the same dress?”

  “That’s just it. Paige’s mother is a Pinckney. You know what that means around here. Debutante balls, big society events, private schools, yacht parties, all of it. Her mother has already hired Southern Royalty magazine to come and photograph the wedding. I mean, I can’t know for sure Sasha would do anything, but I’m not sure I’m willing to risk everything to find out.”

  “That probably would have been some nice publicity for a new designer. Paige wearing your dress.”

  Dani only shook her head and let out a disheartened laugh. “Yeah. It would have been.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. Paige’s mom made her buy a back-up dress anyway.” She looked at me. “Great that she had so much confidence in me, right?”

  “I bet Paige loved the dress you made,” I said.

  Dani offered a small smile, almost enough to lift the frown lines creasing her forehead. “Yeah. She really did.”

  The smallest seed of a plan took root in my mind. It was ridiculous. And probably wouldn’t work. But just maybe . . . “Did she love your dress more than the back-up dress?”

  “I don’t know why it matters,
but yes. I’m pretty sure she loved it even more.”

  I reached over and grabbed Dani’s hands, pulling her up so we stood facing each other beside the bed. “I think I have a plan.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “A plan for what?”

  “I have an invitation to the wedding,” I said as if that were explanation enough.

  “And?” she prompted.

  “And I can bring a date.”

  Her narrowed eyes turned into a frown. “What are you getting at?”

  “Let’s go to the wedding. Me and you. Let’s go get Paige’s dress.”

  Dani’s eyes went wide. “What? Like, steal it?”

  “It’s not stealing if what you’re taking already belongs to you.”

  She remained silent for a few moments, as if considering my plan, then shook her head. “No. It would never work. They’ll have security at the wedding and I’m not exactly Sasha’s favorite person right now. I’d never get close enough.”

  “That’s where I come in,” Alex said. “I’m not technically still family, but they’re getting married at Alicio’s house in the Keys. I know that house. If Alicio still uses the same security firm he always has, I’ll know people there. And I was officially invited to the wedding. They can’t stop me from going home. I have a room there. Full of things that belong to me. I have a right to show up.”

  “Getting into the house and getting close to Sasha are two entirely different things. Even if we manage to pull it off, if I steal the dress, she’ll know it was me. What’s going to keep her from going public with the theft? I’m not too naive to still care what Alicio thinks of me, and I absolutely don’t care what Sasha thinks, but I would like to eventually work again. Everyone who is anyone in fashion will be at that wedding. I can’t afford to trash my name, even for Paige’s dress.”

  She made a very valid point. If all we did was steal the dress, it wouldn’t be enough. There had to be a way to simultaneously incriminate and expose Sasha, which I couldn’t do because I didn’t have the evidence.

  I paced around the room. I didn’t have the evidence, but maybe Dani did. She’d been Sasha’s assistant which meant she was probably the one who had handled Sasha’s expense account—managed statements, filed receipts, sent validating documents to accounting.