Replay - Amy Daws Page 0,1

women beside me. I used to sleep with a Scottish lad in my early twenties who called my tits “empire biscuits” because he said they were only good for a nibble.

He was a cunt.

Most of the men from my past were cunts. I wasn’t exactly making the best life choices back then.

Freya’s best friend, Allie, appears on the other side of me, staring at my reflection in the mirror as she clutches the cutest baby I’ve ever seen to her hip. She voices the third American accent I’ve heard today. “Sloan, Leslie…you’ve outdone yourselves. Tilly, you look hot to trot.”

“Is that a good thing?” I repeat with a laugh.

“Very good,” Leslie confirms.

I shake my head in astonishment. Mac and Freya’s friends always say exactly what’s on their minds. I’ve met them all a handful of times for various events. The first time was a couple of years ago when they came up to Scotland with Mac for our village Highland Games. It was a joint bachelor/bachelorette trip for Allie, who was marrying Mac’s teammate and best friend, Roan DeWalt. As I glance at the adorable baby on her hip, it’s clear those two have been busy since I last saw them.

Allie retracts a piece of her long golden hair that her son, Neo, is doing his best to stick in his mouth. “Tilly, are you good with this gown? Satisfied?”

I nod at my reflection in amazement. “I’m more than okay with this. Cinderella or not, this is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever worn.”

“Perfect!” Allie waves little Neo’s hand in triumph. “Now Sloan, Leslie…go back to work. We have some footballers coming in for fittings soon, and Freya 2.0 needs the pedestal.”

A woman at a nearby sewing machine rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Allie winces. “Sorry, Elodie. I forgot we promised no more Freya 2.0 references. You’re doing a great job, and you’re a valuable member of our team.”

“I’ve been here for two years so I should hope so,” she mumbles without looking up from her work.

Allie shoots me a sheepish look and guides me back towards the dressing rooms. “Elodie is amazing, but we miss Freya around here. How is the pet line deal going? I haven’t talked to her in a few days.”

“We’re getting things sorted,” I reply, tucking my hair behind my ears. “The contract Harrods sent us had some issues, though. I’m meeting with them on behalf of Freya next week in hopes we can sort it out.”

“Issues?” Allie’s brow furrows with concern.

I wave my hand. “Yeah, just some terminology that’s not perfectly clear with what Freya had in mind. I’ve seen contracts like this before, but businesses all sort of have their own language, so I just need some clarity.”

Allie nods thoughtfully. “You know what? I know someone who will probably be at the event on Friday and is a whiz with contracts! I could introduce you!”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s just big businesses trying to have their cake and eat it too. I’m just trying to ensure Freya gets the best deal possible.”

“No, really. This is his specialty. Plus, he’s helped my Harris cousins out of several jams and even me with well…a crazy thing in my past that happened with Roan. Anyways…he’s amazing, and I’m sure he’ll be there, so I’ll make sure you two bump into each other just in case.”

“Okay.” I exhale heavily as the itch to refuse any sort of help niggles my insides. I don’t like help. I like figuring things out on my own. However, this is Freya’s best friend, and I can’t mess this deal up, so maybe a second opinion isn’t the worst idea.

After I undress quickly, they bag my gown up as I run upstairs to Freya’s workshop and collect the pieces she wanted me to grab today. By the time I come downstairs, they have the dress at the counter, so I pull out my wallet to hand them my credit card.

“Your money is no good here,” Sloan says with a knowing smirk. “You’re basically family.”

“I am?” I ask in confusion.

Sloan shrugs. “Pretty much. I mean, I’m married to the oldest Harris brother, Gareth, whose brother, Booker, plays football with Roan, and Roan is Allie’s husband, and Allie is a Harris and Freya’s best friend, and Roan is Mac’s best friend, and you’re Mac’s sister, which just means—”

My eyes see spots.

“The more you fight it, the harder we smother you.” Allie peeks her head around my shoulder with a coy