Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,6

skimmed over the textured Phoenix Properties logo on the luxe card, her nodding approval dissolving into a slight wince. “But I’m guessing most of your rivals don’t feel the same way.”

“Yeah, adaptive reuse has its critics, but I’m holding my own. I’ve been accused of being a hopeless romantic—like that’s a bad thing—but I don’t give a toss. There are too many developers out there tearing down old gems to build soulless glass skyscrapers. London’s skyline is rife with them.”

“Like the Shard?”

“Oh, have you been up?” Tarquin leaned in.

“Not yet.” She laid his card on top of her phone. “But I’m headed there tonight—champagne and canapes in the clouds.”

Ugh, I knew it. His stomach dipped. There was no hope in hell a girl like her would be dateless tonight. “Wow, the Shard for New Year’s—someone wants to impress.”

Leia gave him a tentative smile and sipped her drink.

“The Shard’s great. It’s innovative and the views are breathtaking…” He paused, raising his coffee to his lips, but he didn’t drink. “The building it replaced was a 1970s eyesore, so no one blinked when that was torn down. But if it’s an abandoned heritage building like a school or warehouse beloved by the community, someone should fight to maintain its history during redevelopment. Costs a bit more, but I reckon it’s worth it.”

Leia sighed, her gaze sweeping the bistro, full of slouched shoppers wishing they were anywhere but there.

God, listen to me. Biting his bottom lip, Tarquin stared into his cup. I’ve bored her to tears.

A slight nod tipped her chin. “I agree. It is worth it.”

Yeah? A flutter filled Tarquin’s chest. He looked up, meeting her confident stare.

“We’re such a disposable society,” said Leia, returning her drink to the table. “If it’s old or imperfect, it’s ‘Throw it away’ or ‘Tear it down.’ But the past matters. Second chances matter.”

We’re so on the same page! “Exactly!” His overworked grin took a well-deserved hiatus while he sipped his coffee. “So, what do you do, Leia?”

“I’m a dress designer. It’s my dream job, but it doesn’t pay the bills—yet. So, I work at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”

“Oh, the Met! Love that place. What department?”

“The Costume Institute. I’m a collections management assistant. I help conserve, exhibit, and catalogue clothing. It’s pretty amazing. Some garments date back seven centuries.”

Tarquin blew out his cheeks before his jaw dropped. “I’d be afraid to touch them.”

She widened her eyes. “I am! But I put the gloves on and try my best not to destroy history.” She giggled. “It’s an honor taking care of them, especially for someone like me who geeks out over historical dress and beautiful fabrics. But the Met isn’t my passion. Upcycling clothing design—that’s my passion.”

“Upcycling? That’s like recycling?”

“Kinda, but there’s a difference.” She lifted her drink. “If I recycle this bottle, it will become another bottle—something of similar value. But if I upcycle something, the new product is more valuable. So, with clothes”—she pointed at her dress—“I take damaged and unwanted garments and fabrics and rework them into wearable pieces. The result is something new, and hopefully more beautiful and interesting. Also, upcycling saves discarded clothes from becoming landfill. Little goes to waste—so in my own small way, I’m helping the planet by creating unique sustainable fashion.”

Creative, enterprising, and smart—my kind of woman. Shame she’s taken. Tarquin leaned back in his chair. “Quality clothing with a conscience.”

“Yes, totally!” She sat up straight, her voice bubbly. “I want to prove that you can create eco-friendly fashions without sacrificing style and design. It’s a challenge, but it’s fun. And I love giving new life to old things. Like you, with your buildings.”

He grinned back at her. “I can see that. Your face lights up talking about it.”

“Yeah.” She tilted her head back, owning it. “What can I say… I see beauty in the broken and forgotten.”

You and me both, gorgeous. “And you made that dress?”

“Yep, finished it yesterday. Trust me, I don’t normally wear a party dress for errands!” She chuckled. “I’m test-driving it to see how it feels, how it moves. In a previous life, it was a vintage lace tablecloth, a torn silk blouse, and a curtain.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope, they were all headed for the trash. I used the tablecloth for the sleeves, bodice, and overlay, added the silk for the lining, and the curtain became the skirt. Voilà, a dress was born.”

That frock is incredible. How does she even know how to… ? Tarquin’s eyes fought to stay above her sweetheart neckline. Someone’s