Page 99 of Tailored for You

“Mommy, where are you?” Harper screamed from somewhere beyond the studio.

Enzo’s head shot up, eyes wide.

“Enzo,” she screamed, still adding an L before the O in his name.

“Go.” I pushed Enzo’s shoulders. “Get clothes on. She’s going to be here in two seconds.”

He rolled off me, both of us scrambling to our feet, frantically looking for our clothes. My shirt was barely over my head when the door flew open, and I yanked it down so hard I heard the seams tear.

Enzo had shoved his legs into his boxers, barely managing to pull them over his ass in time.

Harper wrinkled her nose. “Are you fixing his pants again?” She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. “Is it hard to find clothes in your size? I can help; I always help Mommy and tell her when clothes are ugly. Let me know when you want to go shopping.”

She spun on her heels and walked out.

“Don’t take her shopping,” I begged as he buttoned his pants and gathered his shirt and shoes. “She’ll run around the store, completely stress you out, insult your clothing choices at least three times, and you will spend too much money on her for absolutely no reason other than she blinked her pretty brown eyes at it.”

Enzo shrugged as he walked over to me and kissed me. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll ask her what day she wants to go.”

He winked at me and sauntered out of the room.

I went to the bathroom, splashed water on my face to wipe away the tears, and headed into the main house, feeling like I was walking on Cloud Nine the entire time.

CHAPTER 30

Serena

One more. With tired, trembling hands, I pulled the last thread of the miniskirt I was designing.

I sat back, rolling the tension from my shoulders as I admired my work. Would it win me a spot in New York Fashion Week? Probably not.

It would get me more clients, of that I was sure. It was going to be worn by a socialite turned film director, debuting at a film festival in New York. We’d spent over two months working on her outfits—all custom-made, of course. Every piece was tied back to the themes of her film, and I loved that my clothes were part of her storytelling.

Tailoring was consistent work, but I wanted to do more custom work, and I hoped this was a step in the right direction.

Checking the clock on the wall, I found I was done earlier than usual.

I hustled to the house and found Donovan at the kitchen island, a sandwich halfway to his mouth. He kept his eyes on me as he shoved half of it in and tried to talk.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” I scolded, “You’ll choke. And since you’re here, I take it Enzo hasn’t left to get Harper?”

Donovan shook his head.

“Great.” I clapped. “Can you take me to get her?” I wished I could drive, but it had been years since I was behind the wheel, and Enzo not-so-subtly insinuated that I wasn’t to leave without a bodyguard.

I missed getting my girl from school. We were inseparable for so long, since it was just the two of us. Now we had people. Our circle expanded, and I loved it, especially because Harper loved having more people around, even if she was often the only child.

Probably because all it took was a smile or a frown to get the men who were always guarding the house to trip over themselves to get whatever she wanted. She was the little princess.

Still, I needed some time with my girl.

Donovan and I climbed into the car.

“Relax. I’ll let you know when we’re there,” Donovan said and began to drive.

When I was tired like this and in the back seat, I sometimes got motion sickness. That was the last thing I needed to deal with today. I wanted to get my girl and go home to love on her and watch a movie. Putting on one headphone and keeping the volume low so I could hear if he needed me, I closed my eyes as I listened to an audiobook.

Something hit me in the face, and my eyes snapped open. I must’ve dozed off when we hit traffic.