Unfinished Business

28

With a pin between two of my teeth, I pull back the fabric with my free hand until I'm sure it's tight enough, instructing the model on the makeshift platform to stand up straight.

I've been working day and night trying to get these designs just right, and now that I finally have models, I can see my vision coming to life. It helps to be holed up in this incredible sewing room Loretta created when my heart feels like it's hanging on by a string.

All thoughts of Wyatt have been banished from existence.

Knowing he wanted to go back to being friends was painful, and I begged and pleaded with Loretta to give me a couple of nights off from The Starlighter with the excuse that I needed time to work on these pieces for the fashion show. She can see through bullshit better than anyone, so she could tell I was lying, but she allowed me to take the time off, anyway.

Maybe it was because Parker being back in town circulated everywhere already, unsurprisingly. The fight of the century is what people were calling it, or so I've been told from my model Delilah. I haven't left this house in an entire week, and after hearing that, I'm glad I didn't. Apparently, the whole town already thinks I packed up and left for the second time, and at this point, I'll let them think what they want. I don't care anymore.

"Does that feel good?" I ask.

Delilah nods, twirling around in front of the floor-length mirror. "It's beautiful. Will the pieces be available to purchase? If so, I'm buyin' this one."

My eyes meet hers in the mirror. "Really? You'd buy it?"

"Are you kiddin'? This is gorgeous, Macey. You outdid yourself." The yellow sundress fits her figure perfectly, tight in the bodice with chiffon flaring at the waist. It was inspired by the town's Sunday best, but to hear that Delilah wants to buy it... Would others want to buy it as well?

"I'll think about it," I tell her. "I haven't decided if they'll be available for purchase yet."

She nods and then heads into the bathroom to change back into her clothes. She was my sixth model today, and tomorrow I'll do the other six. The fashion show is next weekend, and I'm stressing the hell out. Everything needs to be perfect.

But, despite everything, I'm proud of myself. Even heartbroken, I've managed to get these outfits together for charity and it feels really damn good.

Loretta knocks on the door, interrupting my thoughts. "Can I come in?"

"Yes, ma'am." I wave her into the room, watching her take a seat in one of the chairs. She narrows her eyes, the wrinkles around them creasing. "Do you need anything?"

"No, but I have a feelin' you need someone to talk to."

I shake my head, plastering a fake smile on my face. "I don't. I'm fine."

"Macey Taylor, please stop the damn lyin'. You haven't said a lick about what happened last week at the bar, and I've been tryin' to give you space, but enough is enough. What the hell is goin' on?"

Delilah thankfully interrupts us. "Am I good to go?" She asks.

"All set," I reply. "Thanks again, Delilah. Your final fitting will be next Friday!"

With a short wave, her heels clack down the hall, but Loretta is still fixing me with a glare. "Start talkin'."

She's never going to leave without me telling her something, and since her bullshit detector is scarily accurate, I let my facade come down, my bottom lip trembling slightly. "I'm still processing," I admit. "I finally got him back and lost him all over again because Parker showed up, but I don't even have the right to be angry because it all stems back to me. Everything is my fault." I'm rolling up the measuring tape hastily, itching to get out of the room when Loretta reaches across the space between us to squeeze my hand.