of sucks because you really need to see the designs on someone. It won’t do then justice just hanging on hangers. Most of the pieces have a lot of depth and layers to them that can only be shown off if they’re on a person and can move while they walk and turn. Do you want to do this on a different day instead, one that your models are here for?”
“No, we can’t wait. The date of the show is already too close as it is. I need to see the outfits and approve them so that you can start working on the final designs, or you won’t have enough time to finish.”
Hensley stood there, thinking for a moment. I could always tell when she was deep in thought because she did this thing where she twisted her mouth to the side. It was actually really cute.
“Okay, well, I guess I can put them on just so you can get an idea of how they look. But you’ll have to take into consideration that I am definitely not a supermodel, so you can’t hold that against my designs!”
I laughed. Hensley might not have been the towering height or the piercing-free image as the models were, but she was still beautiful.
“They will look perfect on you, I’m sure,” I said. “And I don’t even need to get you a Peruvian firepit, so you’re already making the whole process easier.”
“Huh?” she asked as she looked at me in confusion.
“Nothing,” I chuckled as I brushed off my comment. “I’ll turn around so you can get changed into the first one.”
I swiveled the desk chair around and listened as Hensley got the first design out of the bag. I heard the zipper pulled and the gentle shuffle of her sliding fabric over her body. It surprised me how much I wanted to turn around and look at it before she was ready, but I waited patiently for her to give the word.
“These things are a lot harder to get into and out of then regular street clothes,” she huffed. It sounded like she was having a bit of trouble. “I’m usually the one helping the models into these things, not putting them on myself.”
“Well, now you get to feel both sides of the process,” I said.
“Yeah,” she laughed. “And you get to have a private fashion show with your friend.”
“See?” I teased. “It’s a win-win.”
“Okay,” she said. “You can turn around now.”
As I swung my chair around, I was prepared to be wowed by her amazing textile creations, but I was not prepared to be so wowed by her.
I sat in my chair for a few moments without saying anything. Hell, I didn’t even think I was breathing for a minute there. I literally just stared at Hensley with my mouth open and my eyes wide.
She was wearing a dress that looked as if it had been made out of magic. The fabric was so sheer that it was nearly translucent, and I could see her bra and panties beneath it. It was like looking through a dragonfly wing to her skin underneath. It was so delicate and so thin that it was barely there. The bottom of the dress fell down around her in strands that were seemingly both connected and not. I couldn’t even fathom how she had stitched it together.
When she turned around to showcase how the dress moved, the skirt opened up to reveal her legs all the way up to the top of her thighs, and then fell back together when she stopped like delicately feminine pieces of overlapping armor. The bodice resembled a manuscript lettered V that plunged nearly to her navel in the center and then curled up into cupped circles that covered her breasts. I had no idea how it was even staying on her body without falling, aside from the fact that it was so tightly fit that it seemed to be hugging against her. The off-shoulder poet sleeves that draped gently along the middle of her arm below her shoulders were soft and small, and they had the tiniest of opalescent rhinestones that seemed to be dripping from the bottom of the fabric.
I was completely and utterly caught off guard by how beautiful Hensley looked. So much so that I couldn’t stand up yet because of the immediate visceral reaction my body was having toward seeing her body in this dress. In the four years that Hensley and I had been friends, I had