Chapter 1
MIA
In my head, I imagine myself owning a small store in a quaint, medieval village.
The dresses I create are so beautiful that even the queens of distant places come to see them.
I’m so talented the empress asks me to come work for her.
Exclusively for her. I have a huge studio and some assistants to do the boring tasks.
But the brunt of the work is mine, and I adore doing tiny details in my dresses that make them unique.
Things that only the owner might notice, things that will make them special.
Someone slams the door of a washer too hard. I jerk back to reality, raising my head to Kennie, my coworker and best friend. She rolls her eyes back at me, then turns to the main area of the laundromat.
“Sir,” she calls out. “Please, be mindful of the machines. You break, you pay!”
The man mutters back and leaves. Kennie sits back down and chuckles at me. I shake my head. “It’s funny,” I tell her, “because they won’t pay a thing if it breaks.”
“They don’t need to know that.”
“True.” I laugh again. The job can be boring, fixing shirt after shirt, but at least I’m doing something I love—sewing—with my best friend in the world.
She makes things lighter. We can chat the entire day while our hands work, and since the laundromat is in a mall, we have easy access to restaurants and a grocery store.
Kennie goes back to pressing the black suit she has been working on.
“Sometimes I wish these people would take the subway with me. Nothing humbles you like a crowded subway.” She bends forward, her curtain-straight black hair falling on her face.
She flips it out of the way before finishing the suit.
“Put a tall, sweaty man next to you and some girl stepping on your foot with a sky-high heel, and you learn your place in the world pretty quickly.”
I snort, then cover my mouth to laugh at her nonsense.
“I beg to disagree,” I say once the laughter stops.
“So many entitled people in the subway, too! The best thing ever is to travel on foot. I keep to the side streets and it’s a dream.
No one honks at you, no bikers trying to run over you. Love it.”
Kennie straightens her spine and puts her hands on her hips. “What? You’re still coming on foot?”
“Yeah. Gotta save some money.”
“You live like an hour away.”
“I’ve heard it’s good for your heart.”
She rolls her eyes again. “Mia. I thought you were only saving money last month to pay your ex’s debt. What’s up?”
A shrug shakes my shoulders. I twist my lips, hoping she’ll drop the subject if I let the pause go on for too long.
She doesn’t, and I still feel her gaze pinpointed on me.
A moment later, her foot is tapping on the ground.
“Okay,” I huff, dropping the shirt on my lap and throwing my hands up.
“Listen, his debt is huge. When he asked me to sign for a loan, I just believed him. I thought it was around two thousand, not twenty. I’ll have to save for a little longer now. ”
Kennie cries out in revolt, then starts on a long tirade about how much of a jerk my ex was.
I already know that. Nothing she says is news to me.
My ex wasn’t good at being a boyfriend, since he wasn’t very romantic, or very good in bed, but he was my boyfriend.
Since I was a kid, I was taught that being with someone broken was much better than being by myself.
I heard that so much that I thought it was the truth.
So even when he slapped me, and even when I caught him stealing from me—twice—I still gave him a chance. A second and a third and a fourth chance, until I stopped counting. At least he wants me, I told myself. At least I’m not alone.
Then he kicked me to the curb. Left me with a broken heart and a twenty-grand debt to my name.
“It’s okay,” I tell Kennie, and I feel like I’m more consoling her than myself. “He was a jerk, yeah, and he didn’t deserve me. All that I learned. It was an expensive lesson, though, and I just want to pay it, then forget it happened.”
Kennie pulls a chair closer and sits across from me.
When we were younger, we liked to pretend we were sisters because we looked alike.
Round black eyes, dark skin, full lips, and the two of us wore our hair in a curly bob to our chins.
Time passed and changed us, and Kennie and I look wildly different.
Her hair is long and silky now, blond highlights making the tips glow.
She’s curvy like a Kardashian, while I’m curvy in that way that makes it hard for me to find clothes.
Her skin is much darker now since she spends her vacations on the beach.
Religiously. She’s gorgeous and happy, and I’m just...
me. Broken, hurt, with no future in sight.
She reaches for my hands and grips my fingers in hers. She stares into my eyes. “Let me pay for it,” she blurts.
“No!” I cry out.
“I don’t have twenty grand, but at least share the payments with me?—”
“No,” I tell her with finality. She offered this before, when she first learned about it. “No, I’m not taking anyone’s money. This was my mistake, and I’m paying for it.”
“How is trusting someone your mistake, Mia?”
I shoot her an annoyed glance. “Look. Thank you, but let me deal with it. I’ll have it handled in a year or two.”
She gapes at me. “A year. A year walking here on foot every day.”
“Yeah.” And I’m about to repeat it’s good for your heart when she interrupts me.
“During the winter? With ten inches of snow?”
“It doesn’t snow that much here.”
“Well, it might. Global warming.”
Her phone buzzes with a message, blessedly saving me. She pulls it from her pocket and reads the text. A smile takes over her face.
“Message from Amanda?” I tease, hoping the subject change will make her forget my problem. Her girlfriend is always a great way to change the subject. Kennie is so head over heels it’s like I’m reading Heartstopper all over again.
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“You’re smiling like a fool.”
She grins and slaps my arm. “You should try it. Falling in love and everything. I know you didn’t love that jerk. Not really.”
I shrug. “Whatever. I’m not falling in love anytime soon. This girl learned her lesson.” Guys that are full of themselves are not confident; they’re just arrogant. Just jerks. And every guy out there seems to be cut from the same fabric.
Kennie sticks her tongue out at me. “Whatever. I’ll grab us lunch.” And she stands up.
I arch an eyebrow. “No need. I brought my own.” A PB&J sandwich because that’s part of my saving plan.
Kennie makes an annoyed face and goes for the exit.
“Real lunch. You’ve been eating sandwiches for the past two weeks.
Don’t worry. It’s on me.” And she rushes out before I have the time to complain.
I love her, but I don’t want her spending her hard-earned money on me.
She could do a hundred other things with it.
Five minutes later, the door opens with a new customer. I put the shirt away and get to my feet, ready to greet them. And I would have greeted them if my jaw hadn’t dropped open and failed to shut.
The man approaching me is walking out of my dreams. Tall as heaven, broad, built like a rock.
His shoulders are huge. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man this big.
He’s not only muscular but large. Burly.
Bulky. I don’t even know how to describe him.
His skin is golden, contrasting with the white of his button-down shirt.
I didn’t even know shirts this size were made.
It must have been sewed together on him.
I look up to find a pair of penetrating blue eyes drilling into me.
His jaw is as hard as his gaze, and his dark hair is buzz-cut.
There’s the mere shadow of stubble on his chin, and with a sharp jolt, I notice I want to feel it against my thighs.
Warmth spreads over my cheeks as I clear my throat, praying to God he hasn’t noticed me staring.
“Where’s Ms. Wellington?” he asks in a rough, rough voice. Raspy in all the right places, it slides down my back like an icy finger, making me shiver.
I shake my head once, trying to clear the haze. “Mm. Off to lunch.” How does he know Kennie? Maybe an old client? I don’t think I’ve seen him around, but I’m usually working in the back. “How can I help you?”
Before I’m done, he’s pulling another white shirt from a bag and putting it over the counter.
“Two buttons popped.” No surprise to that.
I mean, look at the size of this man. I’m pretty sure his shirt would explode if he yawned.
“I need it fixed. Now.” And he spreads his stance, crossing his arms over his chest.
Does he really want it now?
That tiny, tiny word works like a bucket of icy cold water. No one orders me around. “We have other clients first, sir. The sooner I can finish the shirt is in a week.” Honestly, we have earlier spots, but this sucker deserves to wait. I’m feeling petty.
He furrows his brow, leaning forward. His body blocks the light, a shadow falling over my face. “Do you know who I am? I need this now.”
Tilting my chin up, I glare right back at him. “No, I don’t know who you are, and that doesn’t matter. Everyone has to get in line.”
“I never get in line,” he roars, and it should make me mad, but it only wets my panties. What? Why am I getting aroused by a man growling at me? This is ridiculous.
Another shiver runs down my body, but I close my hands in fists and keep myself grounded. “There’s a first time for everything.”
Shock crosses his face, and he gives me a once-over. His eyes light up with something, and he sets his jaw as he goes on glaring at me. As if that would solve anything. Now that he defied my pettiness, I’ll just keep digging deeper.
The door opens again, and the air from outside wafts in, bringing the man’s musky scent to my nose. I almost moan in delight. Shit, I’ve never smelled someone so good. My knees buckle.
Kennie walks in with a plastic bag in hand. “You won’t believe it, Mia! They had that iced tea you love!”
“Really?” I say with my best empty voice. “I thought it was being discontinued.”
“It is, but they—” She reaches the counter and once she looks up at the man in front of me, Kennie jumps back in surprise. “Mr. Cox! Hi!”
Cox. Ha. Even his name is laughable. Not that it makes me think of his cock. No, of course not. Though a man his size has to have a cock as big as my arm, and my arm is not small.
Mr. Cox straightens his spine, but he doesn’t step away from the counter. “Ms. Wellington. Is this girl new?”
Girl! I’m twenty-three. It’s not my fault he looks older. He must be almost forty, or maybe over forty if the silver hairs on his chin are a sign.
Kennie shakes her head. “This is Mia Price, Mr. Cox. She’s our seamstress.”
He looks at me again. “That’s why we never met. You work in the back room.”
Hm. What’s going on? I arch an eyebrow in doubt, looking at Kennie. She keeps a fake smile on her face. “This is Mr. Cox, the owner of the laundromat,” she says with a warning in her voice.
Holy shit. He’s the owner? My freaking boss? Oh, no. Oh, no.
“How can I help, Mr. Cox?” she asks, keeping her cool much better than me. Kennie digs into the bag and smiles the whole time.
He watches her sliding the tea and a box of to-go food in my direction. “I need this shirt fixed.”
“Of course,” she replies. “Right away.”
“I’ll be back in fifteen,” he says before sending me a weird, cold glance. “Careful not to stain anything.”
As if I would! What kind of seamstress would I be if I ate near the clothes? My face warms all over again, and I watch him leave with my eyes stinging. The door closes behind him and I release a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding.
“Oh, my God,” Kennie starts and enters a fit of laughter. “Were you antagonizing our boss?”
“Maybe.” And I drop on my chair again, pulling his shirt closer. The scent of him wafts up to me, and I need all the strength in my body not to bury my face in the shirt. “I didn’t know he was the boss. God, he’s going to fire me, won’t he?”
She sits across from me, opening her lunch box and digging in. “This would be so funny if this possibility weren’t real. He’s known to be quite the jerk.”
“That much I noticed.”
Kennie swallows hard. “Do your best with this shirt, and I’m sure he won’t let you go. He mentioned several times we had a talented seamstress. And that’s you.”
I force a smile and put my head down to go back to work.
Even putting all my efforts into the shirt, it’s still just two buttons.
Nothing much to do. I make sure the shirt is wrinkle-free and put it up to wait for him.
When he arrives to pick it up, though, I’m too much of a coward to face him, and I sit in the back to have my lunch.
By this time next week, I may very well be out of a job. And with that much debt, I have no idea how I’m getting by. If only I hadn’t let my heart have the best of me.