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He let out a loud, single laugh. “Yeah, no. I’m pretty sure we talked about that when we set them up.” Clay’s eyes narrowed, and his gaze went behind me. He was holding his coffee, a single finger pointing toward Carter. He mouthed,Who’s that?
I turned and looked at Carter, his eyes still focused on his computer screen, his mouse moving quickly.
“Oh, that’s Carter. He’s taking photos of the process for my Instagram.” I shrugged him off and went back to the table of fabrics. I grabbed the second layer for the skirt and handed Clay the pin cushion. He took them without question. “He took a bunch of photos, and he’s most likely editing them now.”
“I’ll need some more here in a moment, Miss Fuller,” Carter’s voice echoed.
“Can I leave my hair up?” I asked, turning back to look at Carter. He looked up at me and simply nodded before returning to his computer. “I have to look professional for the photos,” I added, stepping toward the mannequin.
“Does Madeline know her dress is being plastered all over the internet?” he asked, following me with the pins.
“She does. I wouldn't have done this without her say so.” I placed the satin fabric on the mannequin and grabbed a pin from Clay. “She won’t be tagged, and Milo is being hidden from all posts.” I bent down and carefully placed the pin.
“So, then, what's the point of posting it?”
“Well, it’s for my boutique.” I grabbed another pin.
“Your boutique?”
I nodded, placing the pin. “Yeah, I’m getting my own boutique.” I looked up at him and smiled.
Clay’s eyes were wide, and his jaw was slightly dropped, almost as if he were surprised. Why had that shocked him so much?
“Is that hard to believe?” I asked him, coming off sounding harder than I meant to.
He closed his mouth, blinked, and shook his head. “No, no. Not at all. I’m kind of shocked you don’t already have a store.”
I shrugged. “I have my own brand, but I go to markets and then store owners buy them to carry in their stores. One of my clients approached me about opening my own storefront with her. The contract is signed, and it’s a done deal. We’ll open after the wedding.”
“That fast?”
I nodded. “Yup, she wants to open with a winter line and this”—I waved my hands around, gesturing toward the table and mannequin, even turning to Carter—“is supposed to help boost the opening.”
Clay pinched his brow again. “That’s amazing but—” He stopped and lifted his coffee to his lips, forcing his thought to stay in his mind.
I grabbed a pin and raised my eyebrows at him. “But what?”
He shrugged. “How are you supposed to design a wedding gown and a winter line at the same time?”
My arms dropped to my side, and I heaved a sigh. The one worry I had about opening the boutique, the one thing I hadn’t shared with anyone else, Clay asked in a second.How did he do that?I looked over at him, tilting my entire body. His eyes were heavy on me, awaiting my answer.
“No one else has asked me that.” I sighed. “And to be honest, I don’t know. I can use some of my previous designs, but JoAnn will know them. She bought some last year. And honestly”—I groaned, stabbing the pin back into the cushion Clay was holding, —“I’ve thought about asking her if it can be a wedding gown boutique. I’ve really enjoyed coming up with these styles.”
“Well, it’syourboutique, right? It should be what you want it to be.”
“Well, JoAnn will own the store. It will beonlymy designs that are sold there, so I have to appease her as well. Owning my own store isn’t in the cards for me yet,” I said begrudgingly.
“Wasn’t that your dream?”
I lightly shook my head. “My dream was to move to New York and become a fashion designer, which happened. So, now I get to focus on new dreams, like having my name above a store on 5th Ave, even if I don’townit. In a way, it’s better. I won’t have to handle the financial end of it. My dresses can be in the store but I’m not required to be there. I can focus on the designing, and my fashion will be on 5th Ave.” I smiled at the thought. “That’s my new dream.”
“But with wedding gowns?” he asked, his voice toneless as he took another long drink of his coffee, the pin cushion still sitting in his free hand.
“That would be the ultimate dream,” I muttered.
“Miss Fuller,” Carter interrupted, “Can I get some close-up shots of you and the mannequin? Placing the fabrics?”
I slapped my thighs, thankful that Carter was pulling us away from this conversation. “Sure.” I started grabbing a few pins to put between my lips when Carter stopped me.
