My Boss's Husband - Cassandra Dee Page 0,4
appointment this morning. Everything’s great, thank god, because I don’t think I could handle another cavity. I hate it when they have to drill. Although I know I’d let Marcus Steele drill me any day.”
“Ha ha!” I say, with a pained smile. “And the scraping they do drives me crazy. It’s like they’re excavating a pit in my mouth.”
Jemima shudders.
“I used to feel the same way, but it’s no big deal because I have no cavities! Yay! I better get to work.”
I laugh and nod.
“Okay girlfriend. Just let me know if you want to bounce any ideas off me.”
Jemima smiles and goes over to her desk to get set up while I head over to talk with an assistant. Hopefully, Leena won’t mention anything about our gorgeous CEO.
“How are things going over here?” I ask the younger woman. Leena’s a talented seamstress and smiles at me while threading a sewing machine.
“Pretty good, Addy. I’ll have a mock up for you on the overalls you gave me later today.”
“Great, I’m excited to see your work,” I say while smiling encouragingly. I’m an assistant manager of sorts sometimes. Technically, Marissa is in charge, but she likes to delegate, and as a result, sometimes I’m the one overseeing things. I don’t mind. I think the kids we have here are great, not to mention really talented. I love helping them bring their ideas to life, and seeing what we can create together.
I check in with a few of the other assistants before returning to my desk. Thankfully, my head feels a bit clearer now. No more illicit thoughts of naked men and their enormous tools! My cheeks flush but no one notices, and I bite my lip. I have to keep my mind occupied, otherwise today is going to be completely wasted.
Jemima is over at her station sketching something on her design pad, and I decide to approach her.
“Hey, Jem?” I call out. She looks up.
“What’s up?”
“Would you mind trying on the dress I made yesterday?”
Her face lights up.
“I’d love to! Just give me a minute.” She finishes up her sketch before coming over to grab the sample from me before disappearing down the hall to the bathroom. I’m a little nervous. What if she totally hates it? The dress looked fine on a mannequin, but the true test is putting it on a human body.
Once again, I’m struck at how much it sucks that our samples are for a size zero body. If we made clothes for women like me, I could try the dress on myself instead of asking someone else to do it. Then I wouldn’t have this extreme anxiety, and we could get on with our days.
I glance at the door. It’s only been a couple of minutes, but I wish Jemima would hurry up and get back in here. Maybe the dress ripped because I’m bad at sewing. Or maybe she can’t get it on because I screwed up while crafting the garment.
You’re being ridiculous, I think. The dress was fine when you put it on the mannequin.
After a few deep breaths, I’m calm, and Jemima returns. She grins.
“Sorry about the wait. I ran into Chase from accounting and he would not stop talking to me about how important the resort line is. Like, buddy, I’ve worked here for years. I know it’s important.”
I laugh, covering my anxiety.
“No worries. Thanks for putting the dress on. It looks so good on you!”
She smiles.
“It does, doesn’t it? I love the high-low skirt because it’s so now. The neckline I wasn’t sure about, but even with my not-so-ample chest, it looks great.”
“Thanks,” I say, walking in a circle around Jem, studying my work. The outfit does look good, and the material hangs beautifully. Then, I reach forward. “I envisioned the straps lower on the arms though. Can I adjust?”
“Sure thing.”
I fix the straps and walk around Jemima again, who’s striking a few different poses for me. It’s pretty amusing to watch her play top model, but it’s fine. The seams are holding, and I decide the two sides are the best places to sew the skirt. I wouldn’t be able to hide them in both the front and back, so it makes sense.
“Okay, I think I’m good. Thank you so much, Jem. You’re an amazing fit model.”
She grins.
“I’m always here for you, girlfriend. I think Marissa would be crazy to say no to this one, but if she does, the sample is mine. I hope you know that.”
I stick my tongue