“I—”
But I can’t complete the sentence because suddenly, the room is stifling, and standing next to this gorgeous, successful woman who is living a version of my failed dream feels like looking into a warped mirror of should-have-beens.
“Nothing is set in stone yet,” Sofia hastens to say, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder like I’m a horse that might bolt. “Gracie put herbusiness on temporary hold, and she’s working as a wedding coordinator right now. But her situation might be changing in the coming months.”
Jae’s expression wilts a little, then brightens. “Well, I really hope you consider reopening Grace & Veil.” She looks at Sofia and laughs. “Can you tell I’m desperate for someone in the building whose eyes won’t glaze over when I start talking about vegetable-based fabric dyes?”
Jae and Sofia seem happy to carry the conversation while I contribute the bare minimum. Inside, I’m crumbling. Standing in this picture-perfect studio space, I’d give anything to turn back the clock and avoid all the mistakes I made the first time.
But now, with hefty student loans, an ocean of credit card debt, and a credit score that would make a lender’s eyes water, the idea of restarting Grace & Veil isn’t an idea at all—it’s an impossibility. And evenifI decided to sell my beloved but shabby, six-hundred-square-foot storage shed that calls itself a cottage, there’s no way it would clear my debt. Which is why I forcibly kick the thought out of my mind.
The next two hours are a blur of keeping a smile on my face while trying not to think about the giant frosting stain on the back of my skirtorthe damning Polaroid I snuck into my purse at the last second. I meet so many incredible artists who all seem convinced that I’m about to join their ranks, and my exasperation with Sofia and this entire day nears a breaking point.
As the event wraps up, Sofia walks over to where I’m boxing up some leftovers. “So,” she says. “What do you think? I don’t have a studio that’s openyet, but I know everyone would be so excited to welcome you here.”
She sounds nervous, which isn’t like her, and the immediate urge to placate her wars with my frustration. I put down the take-out container.
“I know you only want what’s the best for me, but I wish you hadn’t made it sound like I’d already signed a lease and rented a moving truck.”
She winces, tucking her dark curly hair behind an ear. “I knooow,”she says. “I’m sorry I got carried away. But you’re on the brink of a big change no matter what happens with Larkwood, and I just want you to keep your options open.”
“But you know reopening Grace & Veilisn’tan option for me,” I remind her. “If worst comes to worst and I don’t change Jude’s mind, I’m going to need to find another job as quickly as I can.”
She pulls me over to a couple of folding chairs, and reluctantly, I sit. “And how’s that going?” she asks. “Any hint that he might be persuaded?”
In a flash, I’m back at the bakery with my hands tangled in his dark hair and his teeth scraping my neck. I put my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands, trying to breathe normally.
“Oh boy,” Sofia says. “What happened?”
So I tell her. I tell her about our stupid game that relocated my brain between my legs. How I practically dragged him down to kiss me and, shamefully, how it was the hottest kiss of my life—or possibly anyone’s life.
“I knew it. Iknewthis was going to happen! You can’t have an almost kiss and then not follow through eventually. It’s like, against the laws of sexual tension!”
“Not helpful,” I say, tilting my head in my hands to glare at her.
“Do you like him?”
“Not the point.”
“On the contrary, I’d say it’s a pretty salient point, since you just traded bodily fluids with him.”
“Ew, but again, liking or not liking him isn’t relevant. He’s got the relationship preferences of an oyster, he holds the nuclear codes to my life, and I’m going on a date with his best friend tomorrow!”
“What?”
“I know.” I groan, wracked with guilt all over again. “His name is Henry, and he is literallyperfectfor me. Handsome, gainfully employed, emotionally available, and no known history of sending unsolicited dick pics.”
“Wow,” she says, her eyebrows rising over her gold wire-frame glasses. “Impressive.”
“Exactly. Which is why kissing Jude wasnotokay.”
She tilts her head and gives me one of her shrewdest looks. “Then why’d you do it?”
Without meaning to, I raise my hand to my mouth, which still feels branded by his kiss. I close my eyes, remembering how it felt to be the focal point of his hungry gaze and bossy hands.I’m… very attracted to you.
“Do you have any water?” I croak out.
Sofia gives me a knowing look and passes her water bottle.
