Peyton shakes her head with a smile. “Nah, we’re just happy you’re back.”
“Shit.”Shondra suddenly stands. “I didn’t realize it was already after ten. Brooke and I are presenting to the textiledepartment on trends in less than fifteen minutes. We gotta go.” Brooke hurriedly gathers her things.
“Don’t tell Peyton anything too juicy without us, though!” Shondra calls as they walk out of our space.
Peyton looks at me. “Ignore her. Obviously, I need all of the juice. Extra pulp.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but my smile grows wider. “There’s honestly so muchpulp, it’s hard to know where to start.”
“The fashion. It’s always best to start with fashion.”
I try to push thoughts of Giovanni to the back of my mind before launching into a mini fashion week recap, covering all the highlights, from the audience reaction on our appliqué to which brand was the most chaotic backstage. Peyton is hanging on my every word, and I start to feel guilty about sharing this next part with her.
“So, while I was there… I sort of ran into Simone Santerre.”
Peyton touches her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I must have a raging fever. Because there’s no way you just told me you casually ran into yourdream designer.”
I release a happy sigh. “It’s true, and it was amazing. I emailed her assistant yesterday to schedule a meeting with her next week. I plan on bringing my portfolio and expressing my interest in working for her house. It’s not a guarantee, but if something opens up and I get an offer, I’m saying yes.”
Peyton freezes. “So you’d leaveLamont?”
I shift in my seat and nod.
There’s a beat of silence before— “Oh thank GOD. I thought it was going to take a crane and one very threatening session with my psychic to force you out of here.”
My jaw drops. “You’re not disappointed we won’t work together anymore?”
She snorts. “Girl, I’m leaving, too.”
My eyes widen. “Wait. What?”
“I just… This house isn’t for me. Lamont hasn’t ever and will never appreciate my classic, feminine style. He thinks it’s boring.”
“It’s not bor?—”
Peyton shakes her head. “You don’t need to placate me. I never even wanted to design. Fashion just happened to me with my history of modeling. With all the pageants… I mean, you already know.”
I nod, studying her face. Peyton is maybe the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen up close. Her long, thick blonde hair, big sage-colored eyes, and perfect figure by today’s standards made her very popular as a model, even though I know it wasn’t her thing.
I give her arm a supportive squeeze. “So what’s next for you?”
She tugs on the cuff of her preppy sweater. “Don’t freak out, but I think I’m going to move.”
“Where?”
“To northwest Ohio. My grandparents were from there, and we used to visit regularly growing up. I’m craving a change of pace. And I think this city has worn me out.” She gives a soft smile.
I grin, leaning forward in my chair. “Well, from a former Ohio girl to a future Ohio girl, I love this for you. Next time I visit home, I’m driving up to see you.” I pause. “You’ll bloom wherever you go, Peyton Moore.”
We scoot our chairs closer at the same time and wrap each other in a hug.
After a few moments, I pull back. “Wait. What are you going to do about Mr. Actuary Boyfriend, though?”
Peyton looks down and away, suddenly uncomfortable. “Um, we can talk about it another time.”
I don’t want to push, so I give her one last squeeze and get to work.
* * *
