Fraser sighs heavily. “Aye, I figured as much.” He smiles at me. “What do you say, sunshine? Fancy going on a wee double date?”
Alec stops typing.
I sit up. “Really?”
“Aye, why not? Let’s all share a milkshake with three straws and scandalise some of the oldies.”
“I’d love to.” I set Crumpet on the floor, and she scampers off. Scout immediately follows her protectively. “And you said Isla will be there? Do you think I should bring makeup for her?” I’ve been meaning to arrange a time to go over her wedding makeup, but I’ve been too busy sewing and getting absolutely railed.
“Aye, why not? She’s behind the bar on Fridays, but I’m sure you can pin her down.”
I’m already planning what I’ll do with her. I forced her to text me some of the wedding suits she’s thinking of buying. She’s clearly into an edgier, more androgynous look, which I can totally work with. “She’s olive-toned, isn’t she? Would you say she has combination skin?”
“Oh, aye,” Fraser agrees, stroking a hand over my leg. “I’ve always said that.”
“I’ll just bring everything I have,” I say. “I got sent a ton of makeup in the PR delivery. I want her to be able to pick whatever she wants.” I turn to Alec. “Are you sure you can’t come? I’ll miss you.”
Alec slowly closes the lid of his laptop. “Fine,” he declares.
Fraser’s eyebrows rise. “Wait. Really?”
“Why not? It’s a Friday.”
“You literally never come out with us, mate. There are rumours in the village that one of the sheep developed a taste for human flesh and ate you, and we’re covering it up.”
“Things change,” Alec says, his eyes on me.
Excitement flushes me. I bounce up. “Okay, let me just get ready.”
I dash out of the lounge and back to the guest room to pull my massive case out from under the bed. A tangle of beige andbrown and black stares back at me, and I deflate slightly. I have plenty of going-out clothes, but they’re all so…boring. I pick up a bodycon dress and pull a face at it. Even though it’s trendy enough to wear at any London bar, it doesn’t feel right for up here.
I glance across the room at the Singer. Draped across it is my latest finished project. It’s my favourite thing I’ve made yet—a white lace dress. I wander over and pick it up, rubbing the fabric between my fingers.
It took me three days to finish. I unpicked all of the lace from the ripped wedding dress I bought in Dalbrae, then sewed it onto a silk slip I whipped up from some bedding. I used most of the lace to craft long, dramatic bell sleeves which show off the gorgeously spun gauze. The end result is a shimmery confection that toes the line between cute and scandalous. It looks innocent enough on top, but it barely covers my bum.
Lulu would never let me wear it to an influencer event. She’d say it’stoo much. And I guess it is. It’s beautiful, but in a way which is far too unique and dramatic to ever be trendy.
But no one up here knows me. I can be asmuchas I like. I chew my lip, thinking.
Forty minutes later, I trip back to the lounge, hauling a massive makeup bag. The three men are already waiting, jackets and shoes on.
“What’s taking so long?” Cameron wonders. “Is she okay? She’s not usually quiet this long. She’s probably set something else on fire.”
“You can’t rush perfection, mate,” Fraser insists.
“Sorry,” I say, lugging the bag onto my shoulder. “It took me a while to pack everything. Shall we go?”
None of the men respond. All three of them are staring at me. Fraser’s mouth is open, and Cameron’s face is going red.
Alec breaks the silence. “Summer?—”
“Not a word,” Fraser interrupts.
I look down at my dress. “Oh, do you like it? I’m so happy with how it turned out.” I do a little twirl. I’ve styled the dress with strappy heels and wrapped Fraser’s ribbon around my throat. I even did a sparkly eyeshadow look, dipping into the forbidden shimmer shades in my palettes. I haven’t worn glitter in forever. I feel pretty and sparkly and very, veryme.
Cameron looks aghast. “You can’t wear that to thepub,” he bursts out.
Oh. “I can’t? Why?”
