Busy, busy, very busy.
Until I’m not.
Pursing my lips, I sink down into the comfortable pink chintz armchair, taking a deep gulp of my cooling coffee that hurts my throat and would definitely have my father and Philip frowning for unladylike behavior.
I have no appointments today. Nada. Zero. Zilch. Haven’t for a while, in fact.
Nobody wants handmade clothes anymore. Not when the internet offers quicker, cheaper options, delivered to their doorstep ready to wear instead of requiring appointments to get the fitjustright. Even my regular clients have started slowly vanishing, leaving me reliant on ad-hoc seamstress work to keep the lights on.
It doesn’t help that this street is looking more run-down than it ever has.
In the silence, other thoughts begin to creep in. Thoughts that sound just like my father, and Philip, and their indulgent, patronising words.
It’s just a hobby. A lovely hobby, but hardly a career, darling.
You can’t possibly think this is enough to sustain a living, sweetheart.
Are you ever going to live in the real world, Briar?
Biting down on my lip, I squeeze my eyes closed and try to push them out.
This is all I have. My only opportunity to live my own life. Without this, I’ll be completely dependent on my father. And my savings are already depleting faster than I can top them up. My emergency fund – the fund I need to get out on my own - is slipping away.
If the store closes, I have no doubts that I’ll be married within months.
I have to find a way to make this work.
Ihaveto.
River
Vanessa backs up a few steps, spreading her arms wide. “This place is perfect, don’t you think? Look at thosearches. Don’t they remind you of Ravenhall?”
I glance up. It does have a feel of our own home – one Vanessa helped us find, and part of the reason we’ve kept her on the books for so long. She’s a vulture, but an excellent realtor.
Her eyes are bright with the fervor of a potential sale. Even her teeth glint at me as she grins widely, her head tilting to the side in silent question.
There’s more than one question there, if I cared to explore it. But aside from the headache fucking our realtor would cause – and the tongue-lashing I’d get from Jenson for fucking up a business relationship, she’s not what I’m looking for.
No. In recent weeks, I’ve found myself absorbed in thoughts of a woman I haven’t even met yet. What started as a basic – if encouraged by copious amounts of bourbon – discussionbetween Kai and I months ago is now stealing the majority of my spare thoughts.
And I’ve lost my appetite for random fucks. I’m finding myself hungrier for something else. Something a little more on the edge than I suspect Vanessa would be prepared for, if I even cared to ask her.
Even Jenson and Kai don’t realize how obsessed I’m becoming with this plan of ours.
One woman. Three of us. It would be perfect – if only we couldfindher.
I meet a lot of women. Running Mystic, I meet a hell of a lot. Not one of them has been right.
Where are you?
Wherever she is, it’s not here.
Dismissing both questions with a shake of my head, I slide my hands into my pockets. “We’ll need to consider the asking price carefully. This place needs a substantial amount of work.”
Vanessa’s smile slips a little. “I think it’s a decent price.”
“There’s always room for negotiation.” And whilst we’re not tight with our money by any stretch of the imagination, I’m not about to blow extra funds on a shell of a building if I can help it. Jenson, Kai and I have spent too many hours poring over the Diamond accounts, trying to fudge where we could and drive additional revenue where we couldn’t, to get into bad habits now.
