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“Madeline has that authority?” I asked, a little shocked.
“Hygienist extraordinaire.” Jamie put her hands on her hips and cocked her body to the side, giving me the cheesiest grin.
I let out a chuckle and stood, pushing myself off the desk and going to pull Jamie in next to me. She bumped my hip with hers, and I led her over to the design table. I laid out so many drawings, any kind of dress you could imagine for a bridesmaid. I knew that whatever Jamie picked, I would simply make two. Even though Madeline said we could choose our own dress style, I knew that deep down, she would want us to match.
“You have a short sleeve, halter top and sleeveless. Knee length, three quarter, and long skirts. . . there's even a wrap-around design there. I’m thinking chiffon fabric for our dresses. It will match Madeline’s the best. So you, my dear, pick a design, and then we will go to colors.” I waved my hand in front of the table as Jamie pulled away from me, leaning down into the drawings to study them.
“You drew all these?” She looked up, almost as if she was stunned.
I chuckled and nodded. “Well, yeah, it’s my job. You knew that.”
“I’m not sure what I was expecting when you said you designed clothes. All I know is teeth and dentures.” Jamie shrugged. “These are beautiful.”
I let out a soft breath and smiled. “Thank you. I really love it.”
“Clay told me you were talented, but. . . these are next level, Phe.” She put down the drawing to pick up another.
“Clay?” I asked. “You two hit it off then, I take it?” I forced a smile.
Jamie chuckled in her throat. “Oh no, he’s still very much in love with you.”
“Why does everyone say that?” I rolled my eyes. In the back of my mind, I knew he was. Hell, I was dealing with some emotions there, my mind still reeling with simple comments he had made and glances he had given me. But I was determined to force them out. He’s not worth it.
“Because it’s true. He told me when we danced. He was very polite.” Jamie pointed to a drawing, “I love this one.”
My attention span was glued on her though, not even paying attention to the design. “He told you?”
“Ophelia, are you that blind to it? He danced with me to be polite and then gracefully shot me down. His exact words were, ‘Not to be rude, but I’m still madly in love with someone else. She may not know it or love me back, but she’s all I can think about.’” Jamie tilted her head and raised her eyebrows at me, her lips curling slighting in the corners, a sly smile forming. “He loves you.”
The door to the studio opened, breaking my trance as I looked up to see Clay, dressed casually in jeans and t-shirt with his hair slightly disheveled, a smile on his face and two coffees in his hands. Jamie turned, glancing back at me when she saw him walking toward us.
“Oh, hey, Jamie,” Clay said as he approached. “Sorry, if I’d known you would have been here, I would have brought you a coffee. Your Americano.” He smiled, handing me my paper cup.
I smiled slightly, taking the cup, purposefully touching his fingers.
Stop it. . .
“Oh, no worries. Thank you though. I won't be here long, just enough time to pick a dress and. . . and what, Phe?” Jamie turned to me.
I blinked and brought my cup to my lips, hoping it was hiding the smile that was trying to escape since Clay had entered the room.
Get. A. Grip.
“Well, you're my model, so I need to take some measurements as soon as you pick a design. Carter was here to help with Madeline’s measurements, but since it’s his day off and Clay’s here, he can input them. Can you?” I turned back to Clay, who gave me a crooked smile and nodded, a piece of brown hair falling in his eyes.
“I’d be happy to,” he said softly.
“Great.” I spun back to Jamie, suddenly in my work mode. “You said you loved a style?”
She nodded and watched Clay behind me. “I really like this one.” She lifted an A-line, scoop neck dress with a knee-length, multi-layeredskirt. Simple and easy to make.
“Perfect. Color?”
“What's the worst color a bridesmaid could wear?”
“Teal.” Clay spoke loud enough to get our attention. He had moved over to the desk, standing behind my computer with a post-it note and pen in his hand, ready to take the numbers.
Jamie let out a laugh. “I don't think Madeline’s color is teal.”
