Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Geraldine
I sat at my worktable in the back room of Glover’s Closet, the late morning sun streamed through the window and cast a gentle light over the sketches spread across the wooden surface.
My pencil moved quickly and scratched out lines for a new dress design with flowing sleeves, a fitted waist, and a hem that flared out gracefully.
The shop hummed with the soft whir of my sewing machine in the corner, colorful fabric bolts leaned against the wall, and the air carried the faint aroma of coffee from the mug I’d placed beside me.
Inspiration flowed freely today, my hands darted between the sketchpad and a pile of fabric swatches as I pinned samples to the paper, and ideas sparked one after another.
Damian was away at his ranch, busy with his work, and I focused on my designs; the quiet of the shop fueled my creativity.
“Hey, Geri,” Hazel’s voice called from the front. The bell jingled as she pushed through the door, and her boots clicked on the hardwood floor. “Are you in here?”
“Back here,” I said, and kept my eyes on the sketch, my pencil shading the sleeve detail as she walked in, her shadow stretched across my work.
“Whoa,” she said and leaned over the table, her hands resting on the edge as she looked at the sketches. “What’s all this? You’re working hard.”
“Yeah,” I said and grinned and set the pencil down, stretching my fingers slowly. “I got inspired today and started after breakfast.”
She picked up a sketch and held it up to the light, Her eyes scanned the lines carefully. “This is great,” she said and nodded thoughtfully. “Really great. Where did you get the idea?”
“I don’t know,” I said and shrugged and leaned back in my chair and grabbed my coffee. “It just came to me, maybe because it’s been quiet.”
“Quiet, huh?” she said and smirked and set the sketch down and crossed her arms. “Or maybe it’s something else keeping you going.”
“Maybe,” I said and laughed softly and sipped my coffee, the warmth spread down my throat. “Damian’s busy at the ranch with his stuff.”
“Keeping him busy is smart,” she said, and pulled a chair over and sat across from me. “It gives you room for this. These are amazing, Geri, and you should get them out soon.”
“I’m planning to,” I said and tapped the sketch with my finger. “I’ll finish the pattern today and sew a sample tomorrow, and it could be ready by Wednesday if I hurry.”
“Do it,” she said and grinned widely, and leaned forward. “People will love this. It’s got a fresh look.”
“Thanks,” I said and smiled and picked up my pencil again and added a quick note to the hemline. “It feels good to be designing.”
“It shows,” she said and stood and patted my shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it and call me when it’s ready, okay?”
“Will do,” I said and waved her off as she walked ou., The bell jingled again when she left. I turned back to my sketches and kept working. The hours passed as I traced and cut and pinned fabric, and the sewing machine buzzed into the night.
Three days later, I stood behind the counter and adjusted the display rack, the new dress hung front and center in a deep green with flowing sleeves, and the sample was stitched neatly and perfectly.
I’d posted it online that morning with a quick photo and a short caption, and my phone buzzed constantly since then with orders flooding in.
The shop door opened all day, customers walked in, their hands brushed the fabric, and their voices filled the space with excitement.
“I love this color,” one said and held it up to the light.
“Can you make it in blue?” another asked, and I nodded and wrote it down, my grin stayed broad as the register chimed.
“Busy day,” a woman said and handed me her card, her bag swung from her arm with the dress tucked inside. “This is beautiful.”
“Thanks,” I said and swiped the card, my voice lifted as I bagged another order. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Like it?” she said and laughed, and took her receipt. “I’m telling everyone about this.”
I smiled and waved her out, the door jingled as she left, and I leaned against the counter and rubbed my hands over my face quickly.
The shop grew quiet as the sun sank low, the last customer departed, and I locked the register, my phone still glowed with notifications from dozens of orders and comments stacked under the post. I grabbed my coffee mug, now cold, and sipped it anyway; the day’s energy lingered warmly in my chest.
The bell jingled again, and I looked up with my mug halfway to my mouth as Damian stepped in, his hat in one hand and a bouquet of wildflowers in the other, with bright yellows and purples tied with a rough string.
He wore a flannel and jeans scuffed with ranch dirt, and he grinned slowly when he saw me, his eyes scanning the shop.
“Hey,” I said, and set the mug down. My voice rose as I walked around the counter. “You’re here.”
“Yeah,” he said, and stepped closer and held out the flowers. “I got these for you since you’ve been busy.”
“Thanks,” I said and took them. The petals felt soft under my fingers as I smelled them quickly, and my grin widened. “It’s been a big day with the new design out and people loving it.”
“Saw that,” he said and nodded, his hand slid into his pocket as he leaned against the counter. “I checked your post on the way in, and it looks good.”
“Yeah?” I said and set the flowers on the counter, and crossed my arms. “Are you keeping tabs on my shop now?”
“I have to keep up,” he said and smirked, and stepped closer until his boots bumped mine. “I figured I’d see it for myself and brought these.”
“Nice touch,” I said, and grabbed his hand and pulled him to the display rack where the green dress hung front and center. “This is i,t and it’s been selling all day.”
He looked at it and ran a hand over the sleeve, his fingers brushed the fabric slowly. “Nice,” he said and turned to me with a softened grin. “Real nice work.”
“Thanks,” I said and leaned into his side a bit, my voice brightened. “It feels good to see it do well.”
“Looks good too,” he said and slid his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. “I’m proud of you.”
“Sweet talker,” I said and laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck with the flowers brushing my elbow. “You’re good at this.”
“I try,” he said and kissed my forehead quickly, his voice low. “How many did you sell?”
“Dozens,” I said, and pulled back slightly to look at him, my hands stayed on his shoulders. “Online’s going wild, and people kept coming in.”
“Damn,” he said and laughed low, his hands rested on my hips. “You’re gonna need a bigger place soon.”
“Maybe,” I said and smiled and stepped back to grab my phone from the counter. “Look at this with all the orders coming in.”
He took it and scrolled, his eyebrows lifted as he read. “Hell,” he said and handed it back with a wider grin. “You’ve got a hit.”
“Yeah,” I said, and set it down and turned to him. “Are you staying tonight?”
“Yeah,” he said and pulled me back in, his hands slid lower and gripped tightly. “I’m not heading back now.”
“Good,” I said and kissed him quickly with my lips lingering on his. “You’re on flower duty then.”
“Deal,” he said and laughed and kissed me again, deeper, his hands roamed up my back. “Are you closing up?”
“I already did,” I said and grinned against his mouth and pulled him toward the stairs. “Come on.”
We climbed up, his boots thudded behind me, and I set the flowers on my kitchen table where the petals stood out bright against the wood. “Coffee?” I said and turned to him, my handsrestingd on the counter.
“Later,” he said and stepped close and wrapped his arms around me from behind, and his lips brushed my neck. “You’re what I want now.”
“Sweet talker,” I said and laughed and leaned back into him, my hands covering his. “You’re good at this.”
“Glad you think so,” he said and turned me around and kissed me slowly, the day’s buzz settled warm and steady between us.