Taste of Sin

5| Visitor

Chapter 5: Visitor (Gianna's POV)

I stood there, my pencil in behind my ear while leaning on my office desk. 

"It isn't working!" Julianne screamed in frustration. 

"It will. Keep trying," I nodded. 

"Gianna." 

"Julianne," I smiled. 

"This drape cannot go across the dress with the pleating and the glitter and the tassels and the lace!" 

"It's what our client wants, you have to do it." 

"Gianna!" 

I pushed myself off the desk. "Unless you can't. Then send Brad in. You're not the only designer here," I chuckled. 

She glared at me. 

"Okay, that was rude, sorry. But we have to make it happen, come on." 

"You try it then." She stepped away from the mannequin with the dress on it. 

I gathered my hair and rolled it up into a low bun, holding it in place with the pencil. I kicked my heels off and walked over to the mannequin, grabbing the drape. I tried just the way she did but every time I tried, either the pleating would fall open, or the skirt would give out and unfold. I sighed and stepped back, sitting on my desk, staring at it. 

"We can't make it." 

"Yes, we can," I said, determined to make this stupid dress work. It looks hideous, it really does. But it's what our client wants. She loves it, so we're making it. "Keep a hold on the skirt and give me the pins. Bring some more lace, I think it can work if we stitch a little more fabric onto the end." 

"It'll be too long." 

"It won't, we'll pleat it again. Get the lace, please." 

She left my office and I stepped behind the mannequin, fixing the back of the dress, making sure the zipper worked smoothly, making sure the trail of the dress flowed nicely. I heard my door open and then close and stuck my hand out over the shoulder of the mannequin. I was expecting lace to be dropped in my palm. Not another hand. 

I looked up, my eyes meeting his whiskey ones. I pulled my hand away quickly and the mannequin fell forward. "Oi!" I grabbed it, pulling it back up and letting out a huff. I walked around it, facing him. "Why are you here?" 

He looked at the dress, tilting his head to one side. He pointed at it and then turned to me. "That is hideous." 

"I know. What do you want?" 

"I'm here to see my future wife's office. Why? Is that wrong?" 

"Unless you're here to sit quietly in a corner, it's very wrong," I said, folding my arms across my chest. 

The door opened and Julianne walked in with the lace and the box of sewing pins. She looked between us, her eyes widened when she realized who the man standing here was. "Ace Allister," she squeaked. 

He smiled, sending her a wave. 

She walked over to me, her eyes focused on him and suddenly, I wished I could prick her with one of the pins. 

I grabbed the lace and a pin, tucking the end with the ball between my lips. I stood behind the mannequin. "Hand me the drape," I demanded. She finally looked away from him and splayed the drape across while holding the skirt with her other hand. I pinned the drape to the back of the dress and then walked to the front, pinning the pleats. "See, it worked."