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I spend hours organizing and rearranging the living room to warp it into a decent workshop. I didn’t realize I’ve been here long enough to let clutter accumulate, and that’s the first thing I need to get rid of. Then there are all of the materials I’ve been starting to collect. Fabric samples that don’t cut it. Trays with spools of thread. Containers of pins. And the form! I can finally drag out the mannequins I ordered. Marian dropped them off since they were sent to the Goldfinch, and she was eager to deliver them because she was so excited for Lauren’s dress to be made. I ordered three: a full-size, one to the waist, and then another that is cut off at the bust. Each will be used in different stages, and I debate which should go where. It shouldn’t be this hard to make room for my equipment, but I struggle to make up my mind.
After lunch, I spend time dusting as well. Moving all these pieces of furniture around reveals all the nooks and crannies that have collected dust, and that’s unacceptable. I need this space as clean as can be, so with my earbuds in my ears, blasting music so I can really get into the cleaning spirit, I almost miss someone knocking on the front door.
Sawyer!
He said he’d pop in when he could, but I hadn’t counted on that happening so soon. I hurry to the door and open it, smiling wide. I look like a mess. A headband barely keeps my hair out of my eyes, and I’m wearing a decent coating of dust, but it’s not the sexy contractor who’s getting a glimpse of me so disheveled. It’s Dalton.
“Oh.” I slump, resting my weight on my feet as he raises his brows. “It’s just you.”
“Expecting someone else?”
I open the door wider to let him in. “No,” I lie. “I was simply wondering who it might be.”
“Uh-huh.” He strolls through the living room, taking in all my progress. I’m almost there with setting up the space as I’d like it to be, but it’s overall a mess.
“What is going on here?” He picks up a sketchbook and flips through the pages.
“Rearranging to make space.”
“I see that.”
I smile, taking note of how far I’ve come. “Lauren has finalized her dress design, so now the fun part can begin.”
“Just one dress, right?” He chuckles, pointing at the trio of dress forms.
“Yeah, just the one. Although it might be a good idea to design a matching outerwear to go with it.” I grab my notebook and scrawl more notes. The women mentioned it when we explored the venue, but it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to incorporate a simple shawl or jacket to match her dress. Just in case.
“What brings you by?” I’m not bothered that he’s visiting, but I can’t make sense of it. There’s no way he’s merely here to ask about my work.
He continues to walk around the setup I’ve begun. “I just spoke with my mother.”
I go still, keeping the tip of the pen on the paper mid-note as I look up at him. “Oh?”
Dalton doesn’t have a great relationship with his parents. My aunt and uncle are not very loving, and the family seems estranged more than anything. He sure doesn’t have the same concerns as I do with my mother. His wealth is at his disposal.
But this news is alarming. His mother is my mom’s sister. His mom doesn’t like mine, but I’m nervous about what they could be thinking or saying. Is my time here already over? It’s not fair if I have to end this break from her already.
“She mentioned that Adelaide has been trying to get a hold of you.” He perches on the armrest and crosses his arms. “I’m aware of how spotty reception can be out here, but it’s not so bad that you’re off the grid completely.”
Unfortunately.
I purse my lips, waiting for more bad news. He must sense the turmoil I’m trying to keep in because he sighs before adding, “I didn’t tell her you were here. It sounds like Adelaide is calling around in Paris, even reaching out to your instructors and well-known classmates.”
“I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.” I lock my gaze on him, daring him to admit he’s betrayed this secrecy.
“Nor did I. I didn’t tell my mother. And even if she knew where you were, I doubt she would tell Adelaide, to keep it from her out of spite.”
Our family is so messed up.
“What’s going on, Claire? I’m aware you and Adelaide have never gotten along. It’s never been easy with my parents either, but we’re not terse and apart like you and Adelaide.” He gets up to move toward the couch I’ve slumped onto. “I’m aware she’s controlling. Always has been, even when your father was alive. So color me curious, cousin. What’s going on?”
I lick my lips, wondering if I should dare to tell him.
“Why are you so against speaking with her? Why does any mention of her make you curl up in yourself like she’s a predator who’s chasing you down?”
I swallow and hope he’ll believe me. I think I can count on him to side with me, though. “She wants me to get married.”
He lifts his brows. “Is that why you wanted to elope with Owen so badly?”
