Ember
The rooftop terrace looks incredible, if I do say so myself.
We spoke with the concierge, and they arranged the most gorgeous private dinner on the rooftop terrace of our apartment for the launch of Sullivan Black Designs to our friends.
There's champagne on ice, food coming up from the restaurant downstairs, and a small easel by the head of the table with our logo beneath a black cloth.
Tonight is the night we launch, and we are so nervous because we are showing everyone what we have been working on since moving to New York. We want their opinions because we trust these women.
The girls start arriving all at once. Collette comes up first. Harper waddles out with both hands under her enormous bump, complaining about the elevator. Issy, Violetta, and Evelina arrive with more champagne than five women could reasonably drink, and Marlowe swans in last.
“Oohh, what's under the sheet?” Harper says immediately, lowering herself into a chair like she's parking a bus.
“We will show you all soon,” I tell her.
The staff walks around making sure everyone has drinks and is comfortable. Cassidy claps her hands, and everyone quiets, and my stomach does a nervous little flip because this is real now.
“So,” I start. “Thank you all for coming out tonight. As you know, Cass and I have been talking about relaunching our interior design business. Tonight, we would like to introduce, Sullivan Black Designs.”
I press play on the computer, and it shows the logo on the screen and then launches into the gallery of all our projects over the years. The girls all clap and give us congratulations on the logo. They love it.
“Not only are we launching our design business, we are also launching something new,” I say, which grabs the girls’ attention, and they look surprised.
“Not only will we be decorating people’s homes, but we will also be decorating them with our own products,” Cassidy adds.
I press play again for the next video showing off the sample products.
“We're official,” Cassidy whispers to me as the girls watch.
“I know,” I answer excitedly.
The video finishes, and Cassidy nods at me, so I lift the lid off the box we've had hidden under the table all night and start passing the samples around. Cushions and throws, in every pattern we've made so far.
And the table loses its mind.
“Oh my god,” Collette says, pulling a throw across her lap and running her hand over it. “Ember. This is beautiful.”
“Feel that one.” Cassidy leans over. “That's my favorite.”
“No, this one.” Violetta has a cushion clutched to her chest with both arms, like someone might take it from her. “This one's mine. I'm keeping it. I'm taking it home tonight.”
“You can't take the sample,” I tell her.
“Well then you’d better hurry up and get more.” She grins.
Harper has a throw draped over her bump, her eyes shut. “I'm never giving this back. I'm sorry. It's mine now — and when this baby comes out, he's getting wrapped in it, so really, I'm doing you a favor by testing it.” She smiles at us.
And just like that, we're talking business, properly, all of us, the questions coming faster than we can answer them.
How many patterns? Are we doing seasonal ranges?
What's the price point? Can they buy them now, or do they have to wait for a launch?
I catch Cassidy's eye across the table, and she's got the same look I know is on my face, because we have poured everything into this in a spare room with a laptop and a lot of hope, and now it's real and it's in people's hands and they actually love it.
They love it.
“I want to say something,” Collette says, tapping her glass.
“Because I don't think you two understand what you've done.” She looks over at us both. “You’ve moved cities after a devastating loss. You’ve started over while still grieving, and instead of falling apart you built a whole business. Most people would still be in bed.” She raises her glass.
“So, we want you both to know how proud we are of the two of you. To Sullivan Black Designs,” she says, raising her champagne glass in the air.
“To Sullivan Black Designs,” they all say, and every single one of them is looking at us. I have to swallow hard, so I don't cry into my champagne.
Collette doesn't sit down. “Actually, while I've got everyone.” She turns to us, and there's something nervous in her face now, which is not a look Collette wears often. “I want to hire you.”
I blink at her. “What?”
“For the house in Maine.” She sets her glass down.
“Fish and I have been talking about it since we got back.
It's beautiful and it's ours, but it doesn’t feel like us, and honestly, neither of us has a clue where to start. We just keep walking around it saying we should do something about this room.” She takes a breath.
“So, would you two do it? To help make it ours.”
The table goes quiet.
“You're serious?” Cassidy says.
“Yes,” Collette says, twisting her rings. “I know you've just launched, and you probably have a whole plan, and I've just ambushed you in front of everyone …”
“Yes, we would love to. We loved that house, and we loved Maine. We had so many ideas when we were there for your wedding,” I add.
“You did?”
I nod. “Yes. This is a dream,” I tell her.
“We loved your home,” Cassidy says.
Collette smiles and pulls me into a hug, and then Cassidy's in it, too, and the whole table is cheering.
“Thank you. I didn’t want to overwhelm you and wanted to wait till you were settled in, but seeing this launch, you guys are the perfect fit. I trust you both so much.”
I tear up at her kind words. “We won’t let you down.”
“We’ve been working on Nelly’s apartment. Fish can chat to him to see how we work,” Cassidy tells her.
“That’s awesome. I’ll let him know,” Collette says.
“Guess you girls are going to need an office sooner or later,” Harper says.
“We do, but we can’t afford one yet. The guest bedroom is now our mini office,” I tell Harper.
She shakes her head. “Marlowe, we’ve got a spare office in the building, haven’t we?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Marlowe answers her.
“Next week, let’s catch up. I have a spare office in my building. You guys can have it to work out of,” Harper says.
Oh wow, that is so generous. “We can’t afford much,” I tell her.
Harper looks at me. “Good, because it’s free. No one is using it. I think it’s just storage, so you guys might as well use it. I want an unlimited supply of this throw for my home as payment.”
“You’ve got a deal,” Cassidy says.
“Perfect. Marlowe, remind me to set that up, my brain doesn’t work anymore,” she grumbles.
Marlowe types in her phone.
I can’t believe she is just letting us use one of her offices, that is so generous of her.
The food comes up, the champagne keeps coming, and the night gets loose and warm. Somewhere between courses Violetta groans and turns her phone around to Evelina. “Look at this one. Look at what he's sent me.”
Evelina takes one look and howls. “No, no, delete him.”
“What is it?” Collette leans over. “Oh my god, it’s a dick pic.”
“That's his opening message. That's the first thing he said to me.” Violetta groans.
The phone goes around the table, and every woman who sees it makes the same noise. Then Evelina shows us hers, and suddenly we're all crowded in looking at the state of the men of New York.
“I’m so happy I’m married and knocked up. The single scene in New York is brutal.” Harper sighs.
“Me too.” Issy laughs.
“Yeah, well, our husbands turned out to be gay, so being married won’t always save you,” Cassidy adds, and everyone stills.
“Guys, I can laugh about it,” she reassures everyone, and they laugh along.
“Who do you think the boys would date if they were gay?” Collette asks.
“Oooh, that’s a good one.” Marlowe giggles.
“Fish and Evan are doing it for sure,” Collette adds.
“I’d watch that,” Marlowe adds. “Respectfully.”
“So would I.” Collette giggles.
“Bouch would be pining for Pierre,” Harper adds.
“He would too. He’s already halfway in love with him.” Issy laughs.
“But then Nelly would be upset because he and Bouch do everything together,” Cassidy adds.
“How would you know that?” Harper asks.
“Sully,” Cassidy adds quickly.
“Not to be weird, but I would watch Sully and Fish together, they were the biggest playboys on the team,” Evelina states.
The girls all nod in agreement.
“Emmett would be a bear for sure.” Harper laughs.
We all continue chatting about crazy things until my phone buzzes and I see it’s my brother.
Emmett: She said yes.
Oh my gosh, he proposed, finally! And then seconds later everyone’s phones start buzzing. The rooftop is then filled with screams of congratulations at the girls group chat goes off.
I open it up and see a picture of Jo and the ring, it’s gorgeous.
Collette: I’m crying, congratulations. I love you.
Issy: Congrats guys.
Evelina: So happy for you.
Marlowe: He did good.
Violetta: That ring is everything.
Harper: Congrats guys.
Cassidy: This is great.
Ember: Welcome to the family.
Collette looks over at me. “Sisters!” She rushes over and hugs me. I don’t think that is how it works.
“It must be late in London.” Issy muses.
“This is a cause for celebration. More champagne,” Collette says and orders another bottle for the table.
We say goodbye to Harper and Issy, and after one too many bottles of champagne, we go to the clubs.
Marlowe knows a place, and we get walked past a line of people who have clearly been standing there a while, up a set of stairs, into a booth with a bottle already waiting in a bucket of ice, and Cassidy grabs my hand and squeezes it so hard it hurts.
“Look at us,” she yells over the music.
“I know.”
“We are out in the clubs. I haven’t been in years.” Her eyes are wide.
“I know.”
“In a VIP booth, Ember, with free bottles.”
“I know!”
I was never a big clubber, but I am having the best time with the girls.
Violetta lines up shots we absolutely do not need.
Collette dances with her hands in the air, and her wedding rings glittering under the lights.
Evelina takes about four hundred photos.
The music is loud enough that my brain finally, mercifully shuts up, and I dance in the booth, laughing until my face aches.
I don't think about anything, and it's the best I've felt in longer than I can remember.
Which is when the guy shows up.
He appears at the edge of the booth with a drink in his hand and asks Marlowe something I can't hear.
She waves him in, and then he's looking at me.
He's cute, really cute, with dark hair, a good jaw, and a smile he definitely knows the value of.
He leans in close so I can hear him over the music and tells me his name, and I lose it immediately.
“Can I get you a drink?” he says.
“I've got a whole bottle.”
He laughs like it's the funniest thing he's heard all night, and then he stays, and we talk, and I don't remember a single thing either of us says.
What I remember is that he keeps looking at me like I'm the only person in the room, and that nobody has looked at me like that in a very long time, and that I'm drunk enough not to run the tape of every reason this is stupid.
Cassidy appears on my other side. “Dance with him,” she says in my ear.
“Cass.”
“Ember.” She grabs my shoulders and physically turns me toward the floor. “Go. I'll be right here.”
So, I go. And he can actually dance, which is more than I can say for most men I have ever met. His hands are warm at my waist, the music is good, and I'm laughing, and in the middle of all of it he leans down and kisses me, and I let him.
It's nice. Just nice. Not a rip-your-clothes-off kind of kiss Sully gives me.
A nice kiss from a stranger who doesn't know one single thing about me.
No history. Nothing. This is what Cassidy meant.
This is me, getting back out there. I can do this.
I pull back, smiling, and turn toward the booth to find her, to give her the look.
And that's when I see him.
Sully.
Standing at the edge of our booth with Bouch, Evan, Nelly, and Fish. He isn't looking at the booth, or the girls that are surrounding them. He's looking at me, those blue eyes narrowing at the man whose hands are on my waist.
Shit.
Even across a dark, crowded club, I know that face.
I have known that face my whole life. It’s the one he wears on the ice when he is about to kill the competition.
His jaw is tight, his shoulders are set, and he looks like he is about to put him into the boards.
Then a girl in a tiny dress steps into his space and puts a flat hand on his chest, and another one appears beside her, and the boys disappear into a crowd of women who have found the hockey players, and just like that I can't see him anymore.
The stranger's hands are still on my waist, and the music is still going.
Everyone around me is still having the best night of their lives.
And I'm not having fun anymore.