“I appeared on the show to talk about the suit we made for LeBron James to wear to the awards presentation if he beats out Steph Curry and Kevin Durant for league MVP this year. These requests aren’t from other NBA players. They’re from women.”
Grace set her sewing scissors down and flexed her fingers to prevent her hand from cramping. “All of them?” The company’s roster of female customers was so limited she sometimes felt she could count them on one hand and still have fingers to spare. Now they had ten new ones? It didn’t make sense.
“Well, the majority are women. Two are from men who say they used to be women, and one woman who’s now a man.”
Grace had serviced a wide variety of clients over the years, but she couldn’t remember having a transgender customer visit the shop. She was excited by the opportunity. And, to be honest, a bit nervous. Most trans consumers had a hard time buying clothes off the rack because mass market designs weren’t made to suit their unique dimensions. If they were reaching out to Henderson Custom Suits for help, she wanted to make sure she and her father gave them what they had been searching for but hadn’t been able to find.
Her father printed the emails and set them next to her. He traditionally worked with the people who indicated they felt more comfortable being measured by a male tailor. All the new clients must have asked for a female tailor because her father walked away from the cutting table empty-handed. She could see the disappointment on his face and in his body language. Though he had promised the business would be hers one day, he obviously wasn’t ready to pass the torch just yet. Neither was she. He still had plenty to teach her and she was more than willing to learn.
“Your friend Dakota must be singing your praises because each potential client said she recommended them to us,” her father said as he inspected the lining on a three-piece suit Lillie’s granddaughter had just finished sewing. Tracy wasn’t quite as skilled a seamstress as her grandmother yet, but she was catching up fast. “Good job.” Grace’s father gave Tracy a pat on the shoulder before he rejoined Grace at the cutting table. “Did you promise Dakota some kind of discount if she talked us up to her friends?”
“No, our meeting was straightforward. I picked her brain about what she wanted, took her measurements, gave her a quote, and told her I’d get in touch with her when we were done. That’s it. There was never any mention of quid pro quo.”
Her father looked perplexed. “In that case, I don’t know whether to thank her or ask her to cease and desist.”
“Do you want to ignore ten potential orders simply because they came from a segment of society we haven’t done business with before?”
“Of course not, but are you sure this is a direction you want to go in?”
“What do you mean?” Her father had never been hesitant about taking on new business before, so she didn’t know why he seemed to be dragging his feet now.
He pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know as well as I do that we have a conservative clientele, Grace. Some of our established customers might have an issue if this influx of orders proves to be more than a one-time thing.”
Grace felt her temper flare. “If they have a problem with us doing business with gay, lesbian, or trans clients, I don’t want to have them as customers.”
“I wouldn’t be too hasty if I were you. Ideals are good to have, but they don’t put food on the table. Think of the commissions we might miss out on if some of the professional athletes we service decide to take their business elsewhere because they don’t want to tarnish their images by being associated with us.”
“Tarnish?”
“Forgive my choice of words, but you know what I mean. Some of these guys take the locker room mentality with them wherever they go. They might not be as open-minded as you want them to be.”
“I know, but I think it’s a better idea for us to diversify our roster of clients than depend on the largesse of a select few. Most athletes are fickle, Dad. They jump from one trend to another. You can’t depend on them to have brand loyalty unless there’s a sponsorship deal involved. If they don’t want to do business with us, fine. We can replace them with other clients. The newcomers might not be as high-profile, but that shouldn’t matter as long as we get paid.” She picked up the emails he had printed. “There’s obviously an untapped market here waiting to be serviced. The numbers may be small now, but that doesn’t mean they’re destined to remain that way. Ten requests from one referral? That’s some seriously effective word of mouth.” Her father still didn’t look convinced. “These people reached out to us. We need to treat their requests with the respect they deserve, no matter what our other clients might think. Sometimes the old saying is wrong. The customer isn’t always right.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this fired up about something. I can tell how much it means to you.”
“But?”
Her father was quiet for a moment. “Fine,” he said at length. “I’ll let you take the lead on this one. Just make sure you don’t lead us off a cliff while you’re at it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Even though she had just been issued a not-so-subtle ultimatum, Grace couldn’t stop smiling. Her father always consulted with her on business decisions, but if they had a difference of opinion, he had final say. This was the first time he had chosen to follow her recommendation instead of his own. Now she had to make sure the company didn’t lose business while she attempted to help it grow.
“I’m going home for lunch,” her father said, putting on his coat. “I think there are some pork chops left from last night. Do you want me to ask Charity to fix you a plate?”
“No, I need to get out of here for a while to force myself to take a break. If I eat at my desk, I’ll try to keep going until all the orders are caught up, even though I know there’s no way that can happen in one day.” She massaged her lower back with both hands. The muscles ached from the hours she had spent bending over the cutting table. If she didn’t stop soon, she’d be paying the price for hours to come. “I’ll head to the deli up the street in a little while and grab a turkey sandwich or something.”
“Make sure you do. You’re losing weight, and your mama thinks it’s my fault because she says I’m working you too hard.” He shook his head. “You’re working hard, and I’m hardly working. Maybe somebody’s trying to tell me something.”
She couldn’t tell if he was fishing for a compliment or complaining about his light workload. “Tell Mama I’m the same size I’ve been since my senior year of college. And no one’s trying to tell you anything. You’re still the man and you know it.”
He flashed a wistful smile. “I always knew you were my favorite for a reason.” He put on his hat and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“What was that for?”
“I’m proud of you, baby. I just felt like showing it, that’s all. Are you sure you don’t want me to bring you a plate?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“Your family is far less dysfunctional than mine,” Tracy said after Grace’s father left. “Watching your father dote on you, your mother, and your sisters the way he does makes me cry every time.” She dabbed at her streaming eyes. “I need to go fix my face. I’ve got makeup running everywhere.” She grabbed her purse, pushed herself away from the sewing table, and headed to the bathroom down the hall.
Blessed with some much-needed time alone, Grace picked up her phone and called Dakota. “I don’t know what you said or did to make my family’s company so popular,” she said when Dakota picked up, “but I wanted to call and thank you. Our in-box is flooded with emails, and I’m told you’re responsible.”
Dakota’s low-pitched chuckle was nearly drowned out by the sounds of revving engines, honking horns, and curses hurled in a half dozen languages. She sounded like she was in the middle of a huge traffic jam. Otherwise known as a typical day in downtown Manhattan. “I may have talked you u
p at a party I went to Saturday night. If my comments inspired people to want to do business with you, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
Grace wished she could have been a fly on the wall at the party Dakota had referenced so she could understand why she had become a topic of conversation with a bunch of people she had never met. “It’s great for my bottom line, but why did you do it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I haven’t finished your suit yet. It might not turn out how you want it to. If you’re disappointed in the final result, your friends might not be so eager to place their own orders.”
“I doubt it. If the suit you end up making is half as good as the sketches you sent me today, you’ll have a customer for life. I’m sure my friends will tell you the same thing after you meet with them.”
“Thank you, Dakota. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful my father and I are for the opportunity you’ve afforded us. Are you free for lunch?”
“Unfortunately, no. I’m actually heading back to work as we speak. I have just enough time to pick up a bite to eat on the way.”
“I see.” Grace tried to keep her disappointment from seeping into her voice. She hadn’t made the call intending to invite Dakota to lunch. Getting turned down had unexpected sting.
“Could I have a rain check, though?” Dakota asked with puppyish enthusiasm. Grace found her eagerness endearing. “During the week isn’t good for me because my schedule changes so constantly I never know where I’m going to be from one day to the next. Or from one hour to the next, for that matter.”
“Believe me, I know the feeling.”
“We could get together this weekend if you’re not doing anything.”
Grace was supposed to contact Lynette’s friend Karin so she could arrange a meeting to see if they might be compatible, but after her disastrous outing with Renee, she hadn’t been able to summon the energy to take a chance on another blind date. Dakota offered a relatively safe alternative. She was someone Grace could spend time with without stressing over whether they would fall into bed at the end of the night. Dakota was a client. Nothing more.
“I’ll call you Friday afternoon,” she said.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
And so, Grace realized with a start, was she.
Chapter Six
Dakota had been hitting the gym every night for the past week to prepare for her upcoming photo shoot in Belize. Once she arrived on the beaches of the picturesque Central American country, she would be modeling beachwear for one designer and formal attire for another. Based on past experience, both photography crews would want her to show plenty of skin. She wouldn’t have to get completely nude—fashion photographers liked keeping her gender as much of a mystery as she did—but she knew she could count on having to be shirtless in several shots. That was more than enough incentive for her to cut the fun stuff from her diet and try to get into the best shape she could before her plane landed in Belize City on Thursday. Having Sophie Mestach nipping at her heels also offered plenty of motivation to stay on top of her game.
In addition to increasing the duration and intensity of her workouts, she eschewed her favorite dinner staples of hot wings and beer in favor of grilled chicken and mineral water. Good-bye, spare tire. Good to see you again, abs.
When she walked into East River State Park on Saturday and was inundated by the mouthwatering aromas wafting from the giant food market Grace had invited her to, she felt certain her newfound resolve was about to be sorely tested.
“What would you like?” Grace asked as they slowly walked past dozens of vendors hawking Dakota’s favorite carb-loaded meals: pizza, burritos, mozzarella sticks, Louisiana-style po’ boys, and fish and chips, to name a few.
“One of everything.” Dakota barely resisted the siren call of the ramen burgers calling her name, and her stomach growled when she and Grace neared a seafood stand that sold what was advertised as the best lobster rolls outside of New England.
“I know what you mean.” Grace pointed to two vendors located next to each other. “I could eat a gallon of their bourbon brickle ice cream. And don’t let me anywhere near those arepas or I won’t come up for air for the next two hours.”
“Got it.” Dakota wrapped her arm around Grace’s and led her away from temptation. “What’s over here?”
“More of the same.” Grace pointed out various vendors and described what they sold. “No matter what you’re looking for, I’d be willing to bet you can find it here. Brooklyn Flea launched Smorgasburg in 2011, and they operate year-round. A hundred local and regional vendors show up each weekend to sell their wares.”
“Is the market held here both days?”
“No, it sets up here on Saturdays and at Breeze Hill in Prospect Park on Sundays. It’s held outdoors most of the year, but there’s an indoor venue set aside for the winter months. I prefer this location, though.”
“Why?”
“Few things say spring and summer in New York like walking in the park with a hot dog in your hand and the sun on your face.”
Dakota loved listening to Grace play tour guide, but she liked the feel of Grace’s hand on her arm even more. Grace’s touch was casual, not possessive. It felt natural. It felt like it belonged. For one of the few times in her life, Dakota felt the same way.
“How about some Japanese food?” she asked as they neared a yakitori stand serving skewers of grilled beef, chicken, fish, vegetables, and deep-fried tofu.
“Meat on a stick always works for me.”
Grace ordered chicken and mushrooms while Dakota opted for asparagus wrapped in thinly sliced pork. Dakota offered to pay, but Grace wouldn’t hear of it.
“It’s my treat,” Grace said after she plucked a piece of chicken off her skewer and licked the salty-sweet tare sauce off her fingers. “I invited you, remember?”
“So you did.” Dakota looked around the busy market, which teemed with vendors and customers alike. “I wonder if Whit knows about this.”
“Who’s Whit?”
“Remember when I said I had a friend who owns a bicycle shop a few blocks from your office?”
“How could I forget?” Grace rubbed her bottom like she had the previous week when riding on Dakota’s handlebars had left her with a sore rear end.
“Joey Palallos owns the bike shop. Her girlfriend Whitney Robbins runs a small gastropub in the same space. The menu is somewhat limited, but the food is amazing. If the vendor fees aren’t too steep, Whit could probably make a killing out here.”
Grace nudged Dakota with her elbow. “If I rack up nine more referrals like that, then we’ll be even.”
“To paraphrase one of my favorite movies, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Grace laughed at Dakota’s impersonation of Humphrey Bogart. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“I give you bonus points for effort.”
“My very first participation trophy. Is that like an honorary Oscar?”
“Not quite. Are you a movie buff?”
“I wouldn’t call myself a film geek, if that’s what you’re asking.” Dakota wiped her hands on her napkin and tossed the napkin and her empty skewer in a nearby trash can. Grace followed suit. “I take my portable DVD player with me when I have to take a long trip because the in-flight movie selections usually suck, but that’s just something I do to help pass the time so I don’t get too bored going from Point A to Point B.”
“In that case, what do you do for fun?”
“That depends on where I am. When I’m home, I like to crank up my all-terrain vehicle and find a good place to go off-roading. The muddier the spot, the better.”
“And what about when you’re here?”
“I like hanging out with my friends, I love dancing—even though I have more enthusiasm than skill—and I love watching my roommate Rich perform his drag act. His performances always blow me away. I don’t have the time or the inclination for much more than that.”
“Is t
hat why you’re always seen with a different woman on your arm?” Grace put a hand over her mouth as if she couldn’t believe she had asked the question. “Wait. You don’t have to answer that. That’s entirely too personal.”
“No, it’s fine.” Dakota always deflected intrusive questions when interviewers tried to dig into her personal life, but she liked the idea of Grace wanting to know more about her. “I have what some might call an active social life. I like to go out and have fun, but I’m not looking for a relationship, serious or otherwise.”
“Because you’re too busy or you’re not interested?”
“Because I’ve never met anyone who makes me want to come back for more.”
She was only twenty-seven years old. Why should she get tied down with one woman when there were so many she hadn’t met yet? She made sure the women she slept with knew what was up before she took them to bed, but she had a feeling Grace was different. Grace wouldn’t be down for a one-night stand. She’d want something meant to last. Dakota wasn’t ready to make that kind of commitment. But there was something about Grace she found impossible to resist.
She had a hunch she wasn’t what Grace was looking for, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to change Grace’s mind. In fact, it made her even more determined to convince her to give her a chance.
“Don’t you want to meet someone who sweeps you off your feet?” Grace asked.
Dakota felt like she already had. She felt unsteady when she was around Grace. Like her world had shifted on its axis. She was seeing things from a different perspective. And the funny thing was she was starting to like the view. “When I see the kind of relationship my parents have with each other, the one my brother has with his wife, and the one my sister is committing to with her fiancé, I wonder how it would feel to experience the same thing.”
“But?”
Dakota wanted to give Grace’s question the answer it deserved, but the issues the query raised were too deep for a casual conversation. Resorting to a tried-and-true defense mechanism, she resorted to humor to deflect attention. “It looks like a lot of work and I’m inherently lazy.” Grace didn’t look satisfied with the answer, but Dakota changed the focus of the conversation before Grace could press her for a more in-depth response. “What about you? With your workload, I doubt you have much time for a personal life.”
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