Chapter Forty-One
My chest tightens. ‘Stop right there . . .’
‘Listen!’ Amanda demands.
I gape at both of them as though they’ve lost their minds. ‘There’s no way I can afford it.’
‘You don’t have to. I have sourced two interested investors – two businesswomen, both of whom have experience in the fashion industry – and a brand-new investor who thinks your talent is off the charts.
With three investors, I can get you a start-up loan to pay rent.
You can deck this place out as you see fit – new business cards, materials, furniture, website, all you need.
You can design dresses to sell off the rack, too, as well as your custom pieces. ’
My heart is pounding with the thrill of this idea. ‘I . . . I don’t know what to say.’
‘Say yes! Say you’ll rent it from Donal? He’s going to give you an unbelievable deal. Whaddya say?’ Amanda steps towards me in her ballerina flats.
‘Yes. Oh my good God, yes! I say yes! YES!’ I squeal, jumping up and down.
Donal stamps his feet. ‘Brilliant!’
‘But are you sure?’ I ask him, breathless.
‘About you? Jesus. One hundred per cent.’
‘About renting this to me?’
‘One hundred per cent.’ He laughs, shoves his hands into the deep pockets of his joggers. ‘Grace, this is a business arrangement. I’m a professional.’
‘And I cannot tell ya, when Carla Deliginue is photographed in that gold dress at the Governors Ball, you’re going to be inundated with orders. You’ll have staff here in no time, mark my words. That’s what I meant by catapult!’ Amanda enthuses.
‘More free time to go visit your folks in Bordeaux,’ Donal says, knowingly. ‘And plenty of room here for them to come and stay anytime they can get a few days away from the bar.’
‘Yiz started without me, yiz feckers!’ a voice outside interrupts us, booming loudly as we all look to the window to see one pink pointy-toed shoe appear and then another on the steps down.
‘Ah, at last. I’ve to get back to work. How long does it take to park a bloody car?’ Amanda moves to the door, hand on the handle, turns to me and says over her shoulder, ‘Meet one of your new investors!’
She swings the door open and Belinda steps in dressed in a pink pantsuit.
‘No way!’ I gasp.
‘Absofuckinglutley. I’m a businesswoman and this is a brilliant business opportunity.’ Belinda waves a large green smoothie in the air, then holds it to her mouth and sucks on the clear straw.
‘Thank you,’ I manage to say. ‘But aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?’
‘Night flight, just stopping by before we head out to the airport this evening and jet off to Sardinia for a few days. Sun, sea and Stevo in Speedos. What more of a good laugh could a girl ask for?’
Before I can answer Denise and Kathleen patter down the stairs and into the basement.
‘Did yiz park the Beamer properly? Feed the meter?’ Belinda releases the straw from her mouth.
‘No, we left your BMW in the middle of the road, right opposite the police station.’ Denise rolls her eyes.
‘Hi, guys!’ Kathleen clasps her hands together.
‘Isn’t this exciting? Are you taking the basement, Grace?
Carla told me you’re making her a dress, too, DMed me last night.
Girl, I’m so stoked for you and you have to come to dinner at ours with me and Marina when you come to LA.
I insist!’ She skips over to me and drags me into a warm embrace.
‘Of course, I’d love to meet Marina, and yes, it’s amazing, thank you, Kathleen. If it wasn’t for you—’
‘Oh, it’s not me. It’s your talent . . .’ Kathleen kisses me on both cheeks.
‘Just imagine this as your store? Oh my God, it’s gonna be out of this world.’ Denise butts in as she takes Belinda’s smoothie out of her hand and sucks hard on the straw, almost draining the cup.
It’s almost too much, and I burst into tears – but they are good tears, and I let them flow freely. ‘It is.’ I look at them all. ‘I’m so happy.’
‘Ahh, hun.’ Belinda wraps her arms around me, then pulls back. ‘Just one question though. If ya ever end up marryin’ Donal, are you going to change your name? ’Cause we’ll have a major branding issue.’ She props her hands on her hips.
I share a look with Donal, who pulls a fresh tissue from his joggers pocket and hands it to me.
‘She’s not changing a thing about herself for anyone, ever, right? She is her own amazing self.’ Donal’s look to me is one of immense pride.
I nod in understanding. And in total agreement.
We have found one another and we are eternally grateful.
I can’t wait to find out everything there is to know about this man.
Wiping my damp eyes, I strut into the middle of the floor and cast my eyes around at what will soon be my very own bridal atelier and store.
I can see it all so clearly. Just as I’ve always imagined it.
Unique. Exciting. Remarkable. Holbein carpet with the brick walls decked out in black-and-white photos of wedding dresses.
An Anthropologie full-body mirror on the back wall, vintage Baroque décor.
The perfect chandelier is already hanging.
I want to create a distinctive but comfortable experience for my brides and bridesmaids that they will never forget.
‘He’s absolutely right.’ I nod, stand tall and proud in the centre of my new stunning space, beaming at these wonderful, supportive people.
‘I got a little gift for you.’ Donal walks behind a pile of stacked boxes and wheels out what looks like a clothes rail covered in a white sheet.
‘What is this?’ I ask as they all stare at me. Goofy smiles on all their faces.
‘I asked a friend who owed me a favour to do this last night. She’s a soft goods designer. I rang her as I was on the way to Howth in the taxi. Ready?’ Donal asks, then he pulls the white sheet off.
I’m right. It is a clothes rail. A shiny gold clothes rail.
Hanging on it are dress bags. I look to him.
He nods. I reach over and take one of the red-hangers and lift the dress bag off.
I gasp. It’s a By Grace Algar bridal-couture dress bag.
It’s in chalk-white and glossy, with thick lettering of my brand name elegantly embossed in a contemporary black uppercase font with a classy sheen.
‘Ten dress bags, all ready to house your wonderful work,’ Donal says, and another wave of tears comes, as I hug the bag tightly to my chest. The happiest tears I have ever shed.
I stand on my tippy-toes and kiss him passionately as his sisters all clap and holler and whoop.
He’s everything I should have been dreaming of.
For the first time in my life nothing is missing.
No alterations needed.