Chapter Nine
Dani
I clenched my fists together, willing the nerves in my gut to stop with the somersaults. Paige stood in the middle of our living room, wearing the dress—the perfectly crafted, made for her body, gorgeous in every way dress—while her mother circled around her. It had been a good week. Paige’s little sister was maid of honor and she’d pulled off the long-distance planning of a New York City bridal shower from her home in Boston with freakish skill. The shower had been perfect. We’d also managed to squeeze in bridesmaid’s dress shopping and had found a great deal on invitations. And I’d spent hours, most of them in the middle of the night, finishing the dress.
I didn’t technically need Mrs. Perry’s approval to be proud. I knew I’d designed a winner, and Paige’s approval was all that truly mattered. But I still wanted her mom to like it. I wanted the validation of someone not already bound by friendship loving my work.
Well, and validation from Ms. Perry was particularly significant. Her maiden name was Pinkney—which meant something if you lived in Charleston. It was one of the oldest and most prestigious names in the city. Charleston society held firm to culture and tradition and Paige’s family was one of the great pillars of that society. I mean, Paige had had an actual Debutante ball when she’d turned eighteen. Big white dress, formal presentation to society, the whole deal. Paige never really bought into it, but for her mom, it was everything. The fact that they could, if they so desired, afford to pay top dollar for a designer dress made the pressure even greater.
Ms. Perry tapped her perfectly manicured finger on her chin. “Danielle, I admit, I’ve always assumed your love for fashion was nothing more than a hobby, but I think you’ve got something here.”
Paige smiled. “Really, Mom? You like it?”
“It’s perfect,” she said, reaching for Paige’s hands. “You look just as I always imagined.”
“And you’re still going to let me wear your veil?” Paige said.
“Of course! I actually think it will coordinate with the rest of the dress perfectly.” She turned to face me. “Well done, Danielle. If you like, I’d be happy to spread the word among friends. You keep designing dresses like these, and we’ll make you famous in no time at all.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” I said. “Thank you.”
Paige, visible over her mother’s shoulder, smiled wide and raised her fists in silent celebration. “Hey Mom,” she said, throwing me a pointed look, “did I tell you Dani is up for a design position at LeFranc?”
I glared at her. What was she thinking? I wasn’t up for a position. Well, not officially. Earlier in the week, Sasha had mentioned they were toying with the idea of a paid internship she thought I would be perfect for. I would for sure apply, but there was no guarantee.
Ms. Perry’s eyebrows lifted. “LeFranc? Really?”
“It’s not a sure thing yet. I should know something in a couple of weeks,” I said.
“A LeFranc wedding gown. Now that’d be something to tell my friends.”
“Oh, but that’s not . . . I mean, LeFranc doesn’t do gowns. Even if I get the job, it still wouldn’t be—”
“Dani, can you help me with this zipper?” Paige interrupted, giving me a pointed look. She hauled me toward the bedroom. “We’ll be right back, Mom.”
As soon as we were out of her mother’s earshot, she spun around, hands on hips. “You’ve gotten her blessing,” she said. “How about we don’t say anything to ruin that?”
“Fine. But she can’t tell people it’s a LeFranc dress. Especially if I get the job. It’s not like they’d be cool with their designers doing a little bit of freelance work on the side.”
“Ohh, good point.” She turned around. “Here. For real unzip me. I’m hungry and there’s no way I’m eating in this thing.”
I helped her out of the dress and carefully hung it up.
“So let’s say you do get the design job,” Paige said. “Hey, can I wear the black dress? The one you stole from work?”
“Sure.” I crossed the hallway and retrieved the dress. Paige and her fiancé, Reese, were taking her Mom out to dinner. They’d invited me to tag along, but I was on too much of a budget to eat the kind of food they’d be enjoying. Back in her room, I tossed her the dress. “If I get the design job . . .”
“Right. If you get the job, would you consider showing them the dress?” Paige asked. “I mean, really, Dani. It’s the most incredible thing you’ve ever designed. It might help you make a name for yourself.”
I sat on her bed. “There wouldn’t really be a reason to. LeFranc doesn’t do wedding gowns.”
“Really? Not at all?”
I shook my head. “I asked Sasha about it once. She says it’s always been an idea they’ve kicked around, but the timing has never been right to really go for it.”
“But maybe they would go for it if they saw what you’re capable of.”
I laughed. “You are loyal, and I love you, Paige, but I’m a nobody. LeFranc doesn’t care that I made one gorgeous wedding dress. Besides, I made that dress for you. You loving it is good enough for me.”
She pulled a pair of heels out of her closet.
“Want to borrow my wool coat?” I asked. “You’ll freeze otherwise.”
“No, the sleeves are too short. It makes me feel like a giant whenever I wear it. I was thinking my red one would do. You think?” She pulled it on. “Not too casual for the dress?”
“Not if you put on the gray scarf. With the little bit of shimmer?”
She pulled it off the back of the chair in the corner. “This one?”
“Yes. Perfect,” I said. “You look great. Not that it matters. You could show up in yoga pants and Reese would still think you look fab.”
“Reese? Yes,” she said with a cheesy grin. “My mother? That’s another story.”
I looked toward the bedroom door. “Your mother has been alone in our living room for a very long time,” I said. “Should we check on her?”
“I’m ready anyway,” Paige said. “You sure you don’t want to come to dinner with us?”
“Positive,” I said. “You guys have fun.”
A week later, Paige was home on a rare weeknight, her employers out of town, for once, without her. I’d made her try on the dress again, so I could adjust the way the lace hung along the bottom hem. It was also possible I was having a hard time relinquishing my sewing needle.
“Dani, seriously. One more quarter-inch adjustment isn’t going to make a difference. It’s perfect. You have to stop.” Paige stood in front of the full-length mirror I’d hauled from my bedroom out to the living room, turning this way and that, admiring the dress from every angle.
“Just stand still for two seconds and let me fix this one spot,” I said.
She huffed. “Fine. Two seconds. That’s all you get.”
“Where did the Hoffmans head off to this week?” I asked her.