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“So am I,” I say, loving the way his back stiffens.
“We also have three new members coming in soon.”
“Em told me about them.”
“If they flirt with you, don’t take it personally.”
“Because they couldn’t possibly actually think I’m attractive?” I do my best to keep the irritation out of my tone, but I fail miserably.
The implication that they would flirt with me just to do it seems hateful to me.
“They aren’t the type of guys you need to get involved with.”
“And here I was thinking all the Cerberus members were elite men and women with the utmost integrity.”
He frowns, his eyes darting between mine as I step onto the porch and turn to face him.
“We aren’t exactly known for… You know what, never mind.” He turns around and begins to walk away.
“I doubt anyone will flirt with me,” I say to his back. “They’ll probably just stare at my legs like you do.”
I have no idea how he responds or if he does at all because I walk inside the house and quickly close the door.
Em isn’t in the kitchen or living room, and Diego, I’ve found, stays pretty scarce when his wife isn’t around. I head up to the room they’ve generously allowed me to stay in and begin pulling the clothes out of the bags. It takes me ten minutes to pull the tags from everything before I can carry them back down to the laundry room.
I nap while they wash, setting an alarm to switch it over to the dryer, and then continue the nap while they dry. I’m still exhausted from not sleeping at all while on the bus from Nebraska.
Em asks me if I want something to eat, but I decline, too excited to get started on upcycling the clothes to even pause on my way back upstairs.
I pull the large, pin-striped button-down out of the pile, putting it to the side and using the available hangers in the closet to hang everything else up.
I take my time on this first project, sewing, cutting, embellishing, grateful I found those super cute oversized sunflower buttons. Emmett may not have seen it that way, but the thrift store we went to was a treasure trove of great finds.
When the little dress is done, I carry it downstairs, finding Em in the kitchen washing a few dishes.
“Did you decide on dinner?” she asks, turning in my direction. “How cute is that?”
I beam with pride as I hold the dress up a little higher.
“It’s for Millie.”
“Did you find that while out shopping?”
“I made this from a man’s shirt.”
Her eyes dart from mine back to the dress, as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing. “Really?”
“Pretty cool, huh?”
“Incredible,” she says. “I bet my girls would’ve loved something like this when they were little. Those buttons are just adorable.”
“All of it only cost like three dollars.”
That’s the great thing about upcycling. You can source all of your supplies incredibly inexpensively.
“It’s stunning.” She allows the fabric to shift between her fingertips. “It looks like it was made for a retail store.”
I take a deep breath, knowing if I don’t take my chance to discuss my plans now, I may never have another one.
“I’d like to find a bank that’s willing to give me a loan,” I say. “Fashion is my dream, and I’d like to start my own business.”
Em looks at me the way I imagine a mother who cared would look. “Honey, you aren’t going to find a bank willing to invest, no matter how great your products are.”
I deflate, my good mood instantly gone.
“But,” she says, holding up her finger. “I know a few private investors who might be willing.”
“Really?” I do my best not to sound too hopeful, but what I thought was going to be sheer disappointment has once again shifted.
“You’ll need a business plan. How about you do some research and get it all together, and I’ll see when they might be available for a meeting?”
I could literally cry right now, making me glad I didn’t broach this topic of conversation while at the luncheon because I wouldn’t have the privacy I need right now to shed a few tears of relief.
“I can do that,” I assure her, a wide grin on my face.
Her chuckle tickles my back as I spin around to go back upstairs and get to work.
“Oh crap,” I say, flying back down the stairs and holding the dress out to her. “Can you make sure Millie gets this?”
“Of course I can,” she says, taking it from me.
I get very little sleep that night. I research business plans, fashion businesses, and educate myself a ton, familiarizing myself with the things that would make investors take a chance with me.
The thrill of getting all of this together keeps me motivated, but as the sun comes back up, the exhaustion creeps in. The house is still silent. Em and Diego are either still in bed or incredibly quiet, so I opt to take a nap before seeing if Em has a way of printing off everything I’ve done on my phone. Handwritten notes just won’t do.
