Page 106 of ClickBack

“All the more reason to be able to wear it.”

A woman appears beside her holding a sequined jacket. “What if we took the sleeves off?”

“No, Patrice.”

“He says he can’t move his arms.”

“He wore it through an entire rehearsal yesterday. Tell him to take his sweatshirt off underneath it.”

Patrice looks at the jacket, then disappears. Di returns to me with a small, triumphant smile.

“Now. You have a tailor?”

“A card.”

“Call the number on it.”

“You sound like your mother.”

“My mother named me after Diahann Carroll. She expected tailoring and posture.”

I laugh, and she takes the opportunity to look at my pictures again. “It’s a pretty dress, Gi. You liked it enough to buy it. Let it fit you.”

I put the card beside my phone. “How’s the show?”

“Selling. Which means they’ve asked whether we can add performances.”

“That’s good.”

“It is good. It is also the same people who told me we needed to be realistic about attendance.”

“Have you reminded them?”

“Professionally.”

“Di.”

“Twice.” She laughs, then lowers her voice. “The girl with the broken earring brought me flowers. Said opening night was the first time she’d believed she could keep doing this.”

“Oh, Di.”

“I know. Now I have to be dignified about her being late this morning.” She lifts a hanger, checks a label, and hangs it back. “Tell me about Atlanta. You sent skates and the words ‘still got it.’ I require evidence.”

I tell her about the fountain first because I can still see Jarrett coming after me with such confidence and coming out soaked. Di laughs hard enough to put down the hanger. I tell her about his skating, too, and the woman who warned me not to leave him unattended.

“Did you?” Di asks.

“For several songs.”

“Good.”

“He watched me the whole time.” I lean against the counter. “Even when I wasn’t coming back around to him.”

Di looks at my face on her screen. For once, she leaves the joke alone.

“Did you like that?”

“Yes.”