Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,33

the curves of the form, each tuck and pinch allowed serendipity to play its role, and Leia swore these happy accidents made bolder, more unique designs. Draping was more time-consuming than other pattern-making methods, but Leia indulged whenever she could. The feel of the fabric, its softness, its stretch—there was no better way to discover a garment’s beauty and temperament than by improvising on the three-dimensional form. Her current design, the flirty prom dress, wouldn’t be sashaying through Manhattan until May, giving Leia plenty of time to play.

Her phone glowed with a text. Sarah! Stashing her balled-up tissue in a pocket, Leia picked up the phone and raced through the message.

Sarah: Boss sick. She left early so my presentation is now bumped to January 14. Grr!

“Damn, that’s just before I leave.” Leia sniffed and began typing a response, but another message arrived from her sister.

Sarah: Then I got roped into revising my coworker’s 200-page report. Worst timing, too. My Carpal Tunnel is flaring—again.

“Shit.” Sarah’s hands and wrists take such a beating with her chair. She texted back.

Leia: That sucks! I’ll grab tacos on way home to end the day on a high note.

Her sister answered right away.

Sarah: I luv you, Princess x

Leia smiled wistfully at her childhood nickname and traded her phone for one of several cotton organza pinwheels she had cut that morning from a secondhand dress. That vintage shop next door has so many great finds! I must thank Simon for introducing me to the owner. A creak of the wooden stairs told her she’d have her chance sooner rather than later—Simon’s shift tending to customers was over, and he was free to design. Oh! He’s coming up. Pinning the organza to a piece of silk, she sniffed one more time as the door eased open. “Hey! Good day so far?”

“Not bad—for a rainy Thursday.” Wearing a pleased grin, Simon nudged the door closed with his elbow, a steaming cup of green tea and a bowl of Greek salad in his hands. “I sold two dresses before eleven. One’s been slow to move, so I’m taking it as a major victory.” His eyes flitted from Leia to her open garment bag to her dress form. “Looks like you’ve been busy, too.”

“Yeah, it’s taking shape—slowly.” She stepped away from the future prom dress and picked up her half-eaten chicken salad sandwich, which had been keeping three rolls of colorful Rockets candy company. “Do you work downstairs every day?” She took a big bite of the soft brown bread, covering her closed mouth with her hand as she chewed quickly.

“No, just Thursday, Friday, and Saturday mornings.” Simon placed his food on the table and sat down. “I’m closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, so I do most of my design work then when there’s no sales staff with questions, no phone calls—well, unless it’s my fiancé.” Picking up his fork, he spotted the unopened bag of ketchup chips Leia had brought in, his wide grin brightening the room. “Do you have a boyfriend back in New York?” Simon dug through his bowl of greens, unearthing colorful peppers, Kalamata olives, and chunks of Feta cheese.

“Uh, no.” She traded her lunch for a handful of pins and returned to the form, clearing her throat. “Too busy.” She attached another organza pinwheel, adding to the prom dress’s ruffled skirt. I can’t risk it, telling him about Tyler. Simon might Google him and ask a million questions—I’m not ready for that. Peering over her shoulder, she furrowed her brows. “The other night…is Freddie okay?”

“Yeah. He works in television production, and every time there’s a new job opportunity, they overlook him. This time they said he didn’t get it because he’s too valuable where he is.” Simon stabbed some greens with his fork and stuffed them in his mouth.

I know what that feels like. The thought made Leia queasy. It has to go well tomorrow. I need that full-time position. I just hope Tyler’s affairs, the gossip, and all that notoriety won’t harm my chances. “Aw, poor guy.” She tucked a hand under the skirt, working the fabric so it twirled and puffed like a silky cloud. “Have you set a wedding date?”

“Yeah”—Simon swallowed his mouthful of salad, his eyes cruising over Leia’s two cut-up dresses on the table—“December 21st. Freddie’s in charge, taking care of everything. I told him he can do whatever he wants as long as he doesn’t ask me to cosplay. He’s big into cons and sci-fi.” His gaze hopped up from

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