Epilogue
SIX YEARS LATER
Aheavy hand knocks at my studio door. “Baby,” Fraser calls through the wood. “We need you for the photos. Your terrifying friend is scaring me. Are you decent?”
“Since when do you care?” I call back, spinning to check the back of my dress in the mirror. I’m wearing the last piece from my latest collection—a sweet little bluebell-coloured sundress. It grazes my thighs and nips in at the waist, tightened with corseted ribbons.
I think my followers will love it. In the last six years, Too Much? has released ten collections and has become known for pretty, slightly princessy clothes that are still wearable. This dress fits that to a tee.
“Aye, you’re right about that,” Fraser mutters, shoving the door open. When he steps inside, he freezes. “Baby. No. Come on.”
“What?” I look down at myself. “Do you like it?”
“It’s The Dress,” he says emphatically. “Honey, we have work to do! You can’t just waltz around wearing The Dress!” I smile as he wraps his arms around me from behind.
For whatever reason, the men have been obsessed with this dress ever since I first brought home a prototype. I suppose it is very flattering. And pretty low-cut.
Sue me, I want to be cute and hot.
Fraser’s hands skim over my hips, squeezing.
“You look like a wee fairy,” he says, kissing the sparkles on my cheek.
I smile at our joined reflection in the mirror.
He’s tousled and tanned from working in the fields.
He looks exactly the same as he did when we first met, aside from a few extra smile lines.
He notices me looking. “What?”
“Nothing.” I squeeze his forearm. “You’re just so handsome.”
He buries his smile in my hair. “Don’t flirt with me in this dress, lass.” I feel my cheeks heat, and he nuzzles me. “Although it is very cute that after all these years, being called ‘lass’ still makes you blush.” He pats my bum. “C’mon. If we get distracted, your friend will stab me to death.”
I snort. Fraser is petrified of Lulu. “She wouldn’t stab you—”
“Who has nails that shape?” he demands. “Why are they so pointy?”
“It’s called a stiletto manicure.”
“You couldn’t take them through airport security.” He grabs my hand and twirls me. “Come on, honey. Everyone’s waiting for you.”
We’ve set up for the photoshoot in the orchard.
In the last six years, I’ve done photoshoots in a lot of places. A crumbling Scottish castle. A Sicilian villa surrounded by glossy lemon trees. But this collection is special. It was inspired by Lochview. We have to take the pictures here.
“Careful,” Fraser calls as he leads us down the grassy path towards the trees. “Talent coming through. Now, you may notice that she has decided to wear The Dress. I know it is difficult, but you must remain professional, we have work to do.”
I bat him off. We have a full crew today.
Several models wearing pieces from the collection are sipping juice in the sunshine, and I spot Isla underneath a pear tree, getting her lashes touched up by the makeup artist. Lachlan, a local photographer I found on Picturegram, is fiddling with his camera equipment. And—
“There you are,” a loud voice calls. I turn to see Lulu marching up to me in head-to-toe Hermès. Fraser mumbles something about lambs and makes himself scarce.
“Sorry I’m late,” I tell her. “My brain is all over the place today.”
Lulu waves me off, unbothered. “You look adorable.” She frowns at my nails. “Your manicure doesn’t match though.”
Lulu is still Lulu—a highly fashionable workaholic—but she’s mellowed out a lot since she started working publicity for my brand.
She handles all of the social media campaigns.
She reaches out to influencers, and she likes to have a hand in photoshoots.
We’ve gotten a lot closer these last few years.
Our friendship feels so much more real than when we just drank rosé together and plotted collabs.
“Seriously,” she says, eyeing my pink sparkly manicure. Tiny gems glisten on both of my ring fingers. “You couldn’t have gone neutral?”
“Cameron picked them,” I admit. A couple of days ago, I’d been stressed planning the photoshoot.
Cameron had unceremoniously shut my laptop lid and whisked me away to Inverness for a manicure.
It’s not unusual for him to take me to get my nails done, and he doesn’t usually care what I get.
For some reason, this time, he’d insisted on picking out a sparkly pink polish.
Not that I’m complaining. I’ll never get over the way he stares at my hands afterward.
Lulu sighs and starts fiddling with my hair. “Well, maybe we can fix it in post. This dress is amazing, by the way. It’ll be the first to sell out.”
“Do you think? I haven’t been looking at the numbers.”
Lulu pokes my cheek. “I know you haven’t, you sensitive little flowerbud. That’s what I’m for. Trust me, people will eat this collection up.” She glances behind me and rolls her eyes. “Oh God. It’s Tall One. I swear, if he starts fussing about his schedule again—”
“How are we doing for time?” Alec asks, stepping up to us. “We need to be on the road for four p.m.”
Lulu throws up her hands. “It’s not my fault that you planned a big family getaway right after Summer’s photoshoot, is it? Hold that thought, I need to speak to the photographer, he just pulled literally the fugliest brown filter out of his bag. Lachlan!” She stomps off.
I smile up at Alec. The sun shines behind his head, picking out the few strands of silver that have recently started threading at his temples. “Don’t worry, this is the last look.”
He just pulls me into his arms. I lay my head on his chest, feeling my body immediately calm down.
“How are you?” he murmurs into my hair. “Still feeling tired?”
I nod. “I’ll be fine.”
His hand curves over my stomach. “Have you taken the test yet?”
I shake my head. I got the notification from my period tracker app that I was late two weeks ago.
When I told Alec, he immediately went to the pharmacy and came back with a bag stuffed with pregnancy tests.
I’m not sure how much pissing he thought I’d be doing.
I should have taken one by now, but I’ve been holding out until I’m done working on this collection.
Besides. I know what it’ll say.
I told the guys I was ready to try for a baby a few months ago.
I’ve always wanted children, and with ten collections off the ground and my brain feeling better than it ever has, I felt it was time.
Their response was immediate and…enthusiastic.
Frankly, if sheer quantity has anything to do with it, I’m pregnant several times over.
I take a deep breath. “I think it’ll be positive,” I admit.
“Aye.” Alec strokes my hip. “Me too.”
I squint up at him. “Really?”
“I’ve spent my whole life on a farm,” he reminds me. “I usually have a pretty good sense of when one of our ewes is in lamb.”
My mouth falls open. “Excuse me? Ewes? In? Lamb?” I squeak incredulously.
“Aye.”
“Um, I am your beautiful human girlfriend!”
“Aye.” He kisses the very edge of my mouth so he doesn’t mess up my lipstick. “I don’t want you to worry though. We’ll see.”
I suddenly feel guilty. “I’m sorry I haven’t taken the test yet.”
“It’s fine, sweetheart. Just don’t push yourself too hard today, okay? Take a break if you need to.”
I nod, and I’m not even lying. Gone are the days where I insist on working myself to exhaustion to keep up with everyone else. I actually take breaks now. Sometimes, anyway.
Lulu calls to me, and I’m about to rejoin her when I see a hunched shape by the edge of the field. Cameron is sitting on the gate, watching me. I extricate myself from Alec and flit through the daisy-filled grass towards him.
“Hey,” I say breathlessly. “Are you okay?” I know Cameron doesn’t like having a lot of people here. I feel a bit bad for bringing a camera crew into his home. “We’ll be done soon. You don’t have to watch, if you don’t want…?”
“Of course I’m going to watch,” he grumbles. “Go on. Sparkle at them all.” He shoos me away. I give him a huge smile that makes him roll his eyes, and run back to join the other models.
Three hours later, we’re done with the photoshoot. I hang back as everyone packs up, taking a quick behind-the-scenes video to post online. My throat is tight with emotion.
Six years ago, when I started Too Much?, I was so sure it would flop.
I really thought everyone would hate my clothes.
But my first collection sold out within a week, and my second within a day.
We had to scramble to get more clothes produced because people were complaining they couldn’t order fast enough.
Too Much? has now grown into a very popular ethical boutique brand.
We’re in several brick-and-mortar stores, and we recently had to expand to a larger production facility.
It’s difficult to keep up with sometimes, but I have Lulu to keep me on track, and a team of people working marketing and finance and customer service.
And when it all gets too much and my brain gets too loud, Fraser takes me for a swim, or Cameron plops me down in a field with the animals, and it’s all okay. It might be messy, but it’s okay.
I quickly edit the video on my phone and then throw it up onto the Too Much?
Picturegram page. I still do a bit of social media, although it’s a much smaller part of my job than it used to be.
It’s mostly behind-the-scenes snippets and teasers about what I’m working on.
My most popular posts are usually the ones where I talk about balancing ADHD and owning a business.
It’s funny. I spent my whole life hiding the way my brain works, but people love when I talk about it.
Whenever I mention it online, I get an influx of DMs and comments from people saying I’ve reassured them that they can be successful.
I finally accepted the offer to be an official ADHD Voices rep, and a percentage of all my sales go straight to the charity.