“But Ido. Not get sued, the other part. You should have said yes so I could trade you for the privilege!”
I grimace. “That’s gross, man.” I might not know Dorian well, but he’s a person.
Adam sighs. “Yeah, I heard it and wanted to take it back, but it was already out there. You know words, darling. They can’tbe unsaid.” He tilts his head. “Or maybe you don’t know words, since you hardly say them.”
The right response is probably some kind of snappy quip, but as he just pointed out, I’m not great with words.
I grunt instead.
CHAPTER SIX
PHIL
“I know that went well,but I hate that I couldn’t do my part,” I finally manage to say, over an hour after Damian and Griff leave.
It’s taken that long, plus a cup of soothing chamomile tea and some quality time in my office with my sketchpad and the 3D modeling software for my anxiety to settle enough to allow me to speak, even to Calla. It’s so unfair to her. She made me the tea and has kept up a stream of low-stress chatter about things that make me happy, like our monthly dinner with our friends, the group chat, and her super-sweet ex-boyfriend-slash-current-casual-fuck, Polly (whose actual name is Brad Polling. It’s one of those athlete things). I’m pretty sure they’re going to end up officially together again one day, but I’ll never say that out loud to Calla. Not after that one time Blaise did, and she… had opinions. Vociferous ones.
“Of course you did your part,” she replies without hesitation. “You designed the dresses!Andmy top. We had a wildly successful afternoon, and without your input, it would have just been me giving a tour.”
That gets a chuckle out of me. “Maybe, but nobody gives a tour like you. I bet even without my designs, you still would have sold something.”
She flicks my arm with her forefinger. “Like what? A bolt of fabric?”
“Your own designs?” I counter, raising a brow. We agreed when we started Phallacy that I’d be in charge of design and she’d manage everything else—that was her idea—but I thought she’d still be doingsomedesigning. She’s good at it, and I always thought she enjoyed it, but it seems like she only designs when I push her, and even then, she usually fobs me off.
“Pfft. Who has time for that?”
Like that.
I don’t have the energy right now to argue with her, so I let it slide and say, “I still wish I could have talked him through the designs. He was completely professional and polite, so I don’t know why my brain had to be a dick about it. Though I think his opinion of me is pretty low now.”
“It’s not,” my loyal champion declares. “The meeting wouldn’t have gone so well if it was. He could have walked out without committing to anything, and instead he wants contracts for two clients.”
Remembering how he looked at me, I’m not sure I agree, but that doesn’t stop the smile that takes over my face. “Daria Keys.”
The little squeal Calla gives says it all. “I’m so excited! Maybe she’ll love the top so much that she’ll want us to do a red-carpet gown for her, and we’ll get to meet her.” Cal’s a fan of Quixotic, and specifically of Daria, who she’s got a massive crush on.
“So we’re agreed that we’ll do it for a pap walk and the music video?” It’s a rhetorical question, but it still needs to be asked.
“Fuck yes. But did you even make a pattern when you made this, or was it trial and error? Do you need to start from scratch, and if so, will you have time?”
I shake my head. “I still have the sketches, I think, but I didn’t make a pattern. I was using scraps—I just draped it on one of the dress forms and cut it. Bring it in with you tomorrow, and Shane”—our pattern cutter—“and I will take a look, get something drafted. Most of the work was in the fabric, if I remember right.” I raise a brow at her.
“He said blacks and grays, right? I’ve got a few things in mind, including that funky stretch mesh with the beading that everybody except me hates. Just a few patches of that, especially around the neckline, will really pop under camera lighting.”
“We don’t hate it, we just never want to work with it because it’s a pain in the ass.” Itisstunning, though, and Calla’s right about how good it would look through a camera lens. Thankfully, working with it will be our chief seamstress’s problem. I make a mental note to bring poor Heidi some chocolate.
“Noted,” my smart-ass best friend says. “Anyway, I’ll deal with Griff from now on for anything in-person, so don’t worry about that. If you need to talk to him, do it via email or text.”
We’ve had that system in place since we first opened our doors, and it’s been working so far, but this time it really bothers me. I was so excited about designing for Margaret, and sure, Calla did a great job answering Griff’s questions about the designs, but I wanted to talk him through them. There are reasons for the choices I made, and I would have loved to explain them. Just because serendipity is a thing and he picked my favorite of the three options doesn’t mean I didn’t want to tell him why I think it’s the best choice for Margaret.
And if I let Calla handle all the in-person stuff, I’m not going to be able to meet Margaret. Though, knowing my luck, I probably wouldn’t be able to talk to her, which would be another exercise in frustration and humiliation. I don’t even know if it’s Griff himself that prevented me from talking today, or justnerves about the whole situation. Maybe next time I meet him, I’ll be fine? But what if I try and the same thing happens again?
I don’t want to say all that to Calla—she’s heard it before, and as sympathetic and empathetic as she is, she’ll never completely understand—so I just say, “Yeah,” then change the subject. “Dinner tonight. Are you looking forward to it?”
She grins. “Yep! Blaise said Jordan’s definitely coming, now that he’s back in LA for the off-season. And something about a surprise…. Do you think they’re getting married?”
I shrug. “Probably not. They made that stupid pact about not getting married until either Blaise wins an award or Jordan’s team wins the World Series.” My eyes roll automatically, and Cal snorts.
