Min, please, can’t we talk?
Min
Not right now. I’m at work. I need to focus.
I set my phone down and rub my temples. I thought calling Sam out on his lack of communication would feel gratifying, but instead I feel empty. My screen lights up. The incoming text from Sam contains two words.
Sam
I’m sorry.
I silence the device and place it into my pocket. I don’t have time to dwell on Sam. I need to push all thoughts of him and my personal life aside. I have a job to do. One that will decide my future as a designer. This is what I’ve been working for since I moved to London. I’m not about to waste my golden opportunity.
Finishing my mocha, I march back up to the counter, order a second double mocha, and take it back to my office. My body is humming with sugar and caffeine. Nothing is going to stop me from meeting my new deadline.
A few hours later,I rest my head against the cool surface of the table and groan. I’ve hit a wall. I can’t force any new ideas out of my brain. My head and my stomach ache. Too much sugar. Too much caffeine. Too much pressure. Not enough sleep.
“What am I going to do?” I groan.
“Minerva,” a small voice says.
I slowly raise my head.
“Hey, Lea, what’s up?”
“It’s, uh, four, and you said to come see you now.”
“I did, didn’t I.” I blink a few times. “Is it four already?”
“It is,” Lea confirms. “I can come back later if you’re busy.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll always have time for you.”Unlike some people.I clear a space. “Clarissa’s moved up her wedding and it’s flustered everyone.”
Lea’s jaw opens. “Is that why everyone is working like I have a video playing on three times the speed?”
I nod. It’s been an intense day for everyone.
“What’s the new date for the wedding?”
“Saturday. We need to have all our work done by Friday.” I give Lea the condensed version of all that’s happening. “Dress one is good to go, but dress two has been scrapped. Clarissa’s parents have asked her to wear something more traditional and she’s agreed to their request. I’m trying hard to come up with a new design, but I’m blanking out. Anyway, don’t worry about us, we’ll get through it. Show me what you’ve come up with.”
Lea mutters under her breath about someone being meddlesome, but I don’t catch it all. She hesitates as she sits. “I don’t want to take you away from your work.”
“You’re doing me a favor; I could use a mental break. Now, show me what you’ve done.”
“I tried to take what you said to heart and played with a few different ideas.” Lea opens the CAD program. I see variants of the cheongsam silhouette. The first one contains larger block L and W letters. The second and third sketches have transformed the dress into a top and trouser set. “I was wracking my brain for an outfit I’d wear and this is what I dreamed up.”
“You done good, kid.” I zoom in with the pencil and rotate the model. “I love the playfulness. Blue and pink are fun colors.”
An idea suddenly hits me. Why didn’t I see this before? The answer to the new dress has been sitting in front of me all day. “Lea, I think you might be able to help me.”
She sits taller. “I’ll do anything.”
“Be careful. You don’t even know what it is yet.” I chuckle. My good mood is returning.
Lea’s cheeks color.
“For the last three hours, I’ve been trying to work out how to create a cheongsam-inspired reception dress. My problem is that it’s not something I grew up with. Hanboks, yes. Cheongsams, no. I’ve done research and studied photos for inspiration, but it’s not the same.Youhave though.Youknow what you’re doing.”
