Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
That would be a disaster.
“Fine,” I mumble but start to worry internally.
If I’d known Brandon was the best man, that all this was a gift for his best friend, I wouldn’t have pushed him to leave.
I wouldn’t have said any of the stupid things I told him either.
God, I’m such an idiot.
“I should call him back,” I blurt out, asking Mark for his number. But he seems to have changed his mind about the whole business.
“Like you said, Ash. We have his measurements. Plenty to go on with. He’s halfway home by now. No point calling him back just because I’m nervous about upsetting a client,” he tells me, shaking his head firmly.
Not giving me Brandon’s number.
I’m just a dressmaker, and it’s not my business. Cynthia and Mark are the only ones who have clients’ details unless I’m dealing with them directly to make a custom gown.
What if Brandon doesn’t come back? What if he pulls the plug on the whole thing and takes his best friend’s wedding somewhere else?
Now I’m starting to sound like Mark a few minutes ago, catching more than his bug as I start to panic.
There’s a loud tapping on the store door, making me jump. A part of me wants it to Brandon coming back.
Needing him to come back now, so I can explain myself.
It’s not Brandon though, it’s Cynthia.
I do a quick double-take. Wondering how she got from where she was to here again without picking up the...
Because she hasn’t picked up the garments.
One look at her and I can see why. Whatever Mark has, she has it twice as bad.
I rush to open the door for her, almost catching her as she nearly topples forward in a near faint.
“Oh my god,” Mark exclaims, taking her in his arms and settling her into a nearby chair.
He mumbles something in her ear and she nods, both of them looking over to me with a grave expression on their faces.
“I’ll have to take her home,” Mark says, rallying his own strength for the sake of his wife.
“I never got to pick up those dresses,” Cynthia murmurs, shaking her head, looking confused, tired, and just plain unwell.
“They’re dropping them off,” she adds, telling me she called them and explained the situation.
I nod in agreement, at least the work can come to me in this case.
I mean, I don’t even drive a car so there’s no way I could do anything about it if I had to go pick them up.
Mark looks worried, like he’s counting down the minutes or hours before he’s in the same state as his wife so he decides to act fast.
“We’re getting you home,” he tells Cynthia, who doesn’t argue. All the fight looking like it’s been drained out of her.
“I’ll call the doctor on the way home and see if we can get in to see someone,” he adds, talking mainly to himself before he turns to me.
“Can we count on you, Ash? I mean, chances are we’re both gonna be pretty ill by the looks. I need you to wait here for those garments and then get to work on the Silver suit as well as the repairs coming, can you manage that?” he asks, not meaning to sound so patronizing, but I know where he’s coming from.
“I got it, Mark. Just get home and get well. Call me if you can, let me know how you’re both doing,” I tell him, meaning it. Already feeling more than slightly nervous about having to run everything while they’re gone.
I’ve only ever managed the store once all alone, and that was when it was quiet and the offseason.
This weekend is gonna be busy, and it’s more than one person can or should have to deal with, but these guys have helped me more times than I can count.
All I can do is my best, but I seize my big chance to get Brandon’s number from Mark.
“Shouldn’t I have some numbers? In case I need to call clients,” I announce before they both leave.
“Mr. Silver,” I add, giving Mark a look that reminds him of the promise I made not to tell Cynthia about what went down this afternoon.
“I’ll text it to you,” he says briskly, and I help him to the door with Cynthia, promising to call them if I get stuck.
As quickly as she arrived, Cynthia is gone and so is Mark.
Humph. I got my wish, but there’s only one thing missing.
Brandon Silver.
Closing the front door behind them both, I glance up at the darkening sky. Rain clouds are rolling in, which is unusual for this time of year.
As soon as I have the thought, I can see heavy drops of rain starting to hit the storefront windows.
A deep rumble of thunder from far away signals that there’s more than just rain on the way.