Page 55 of Tailored for You

Serena only nodded. The pain had to be significant if she was struggling to speak.

I closed the door behind me and went to find Harper, who was watching TV in the living room.

“Is Mommy okay?” she asked. “Does she need me to doctor her? I’m a great doctor.”

For some reason, that comment was a punch to the gut. They had been alone, Serena constantly taking care of Harper regardless of how she felt. I’d known it was like this, but facing a real example—wondering how Serena handled barely being able to stand and still do everything Harper needed—brought it into focus.

“Yeah, she’s okay. I helped her. Is that okay?”

Harper sighed. “It’s fine, but you’re not better than me. I'm the bestest.”

I nodded. “Yeah, you’re way better than me at this. Maybe you can tell me what you do to help Mommy while we cook dinner. How does that sound?” I asked.

Harper nodded, which was a relief because if Harper was upset or didn’t want to do something, good luck to anyone who tried to convince her otherwise.

Something vibrated. I touched my pocket, but it wasn’t my phone. A devilish smile lit up Harper’s face as she pulled out a phone from under her and answered.

She tapped the screen and yelled, “Who this?”

“Hi,” an unfamiliar woman’s voice said on the other end. “I’m looking for Serena Washington, the designer.”

“Yeah,” I called out as I took the phone from Harper, who only giggled. “This is the right number. How can we help?”

I listened, grabbed a pen and piece of paper, and wrote down what this woman wanted and her contact information.

“Do you have an estimate?” she asked.

“No. All projects are custom-made. I’ll have Serena contact you,” I answered.

Serena’s phone went off again. And again.

By the time I finished playing Serena’s secretary, I’d filled multiple pages with people wanting Serena’s work.

“Your mom works too hard,” I said absentmindedly to Harper.

“Yeah. Mommy’s the best.” Harper agreed. “Food. Food.”

“Fine. Let’s see what we have.” We went to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“There’s nothing in there,” Harper said.

“Yeah. Let’s order out.” I grabbed my phone and sent our order to Donovan. I knew what Harper and Serena liked. We had ordered before, and reciting every menu item to Harper—who made a barfing sound at each one before I was finished saying it—was an event I’d rather avoid.

“Food ordered, what should we do now?” I asked.

“I have an idea.” Harper ran off.

I followed, knowing I’d follow the Washington girls anywhere they wanted me.

CHAPTER 18

Serena

“Ugh,” I groaned as I rolled over in bed.

The day slowly filtered back to me. Working in the studio on a custom project. Then the telltale sign of a migraine forming behind my eyes. The double vision that came on fast and the rush to lay down in a cold, dark room. I had time before Harper got home to get over the worst of it, so I closed my eyes, praying some sleep would fix it all.

A flash of strong arms and a warm body lifting me, whispering to me to rest, and then nothing after that.