by Ali Parker
As such, I’d never given dry cleaning a thought one way or the other. I found myself hanging onto Addie’s every word, though, and even typing some notes on my smartphone.
In a way, I thought this job was exactly what I needed right now. Not only because of Addie and because a job was a job, but I had a feeling doing what I had to do was going to become quite therapeutic in time. Once I stopped worrying about whether I was doing it right or not.
Addie was such a natural in this shop, and she hardly had to look at what she was doing. I, on the other hand, was going to have to be very careful.
Thankfully, it was a small operation. I wouldn’t have to deal with tons of clothing on a daily basis, so I figured I had time to ease into it. Start slow and do it properly.
Watching Maggie with her customers all morning, I’d come to realize that people came to her business for more than having their clothes cleaned. She was super easy to talk to and chatted up a storm with regulars and strangers alike.
She arched an eyebrow at me now, looking at me over the rim of her glasses. “Okay, if you say so. I was kidding about having to hold your peace forever if you don’t ask me questions now. Ask me anything anytime.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “I suppose I should get started.”
She bobbed her head up and down, causing a stray gray curl that had fallen loose from her bun to bounce beside her cheek. Pursing her lips, she motioned for me to follow her.
We walked down an aisle formed by the rails where she hung the clothes ready for collection, stopping when we reached the back where the new intakes hung in a neat row. She lifted her hand and let it drift from left to right before finally reaching for a blacker-than-black suit bag.
“Yes. I think this is a nice one for you to cut your teeth on. The customer needs it back next week, so I was going to do it today anyway. There are no stains or anything serious. It’s just been collecting dust, so it’s an easy clean for you.”
I took the bag from her, nearly dropping it when it turned out to weigh a lot more than I’d been expecting. “Jeez, this is heavy.”
Addie smirked and inclined her head. “I’m stronger than I look. But yes, it is. It’s because it’s not made of cheap dime-store material. That’s a bespoke suit, or as my Danny used to say, the real deal.”
A soft laugh fell from my lips. “I wish I could have met Danny. Sounds like it was my loss that I didn’t.”
“It was,” she said quietly, then cleared her throat and took a breath to compose herself. With a playful smile cresting her lips, her hands went to her hips, and she looked at me over the rim of her glasses again. “Now, enough yapping. Let’s get to work.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” I brought my fingers to my forehead in a quick salute. “I’ll get this done and come find you after for my next assignment.”
Since Addie had been managing the shop alone all these years without any employees, she’d told me that she didn’t really have a list of things ready for me to do. She said that she’d always just played it by ear and did what needed to be done, when it needed to be done.
We’d decided that until I’d settled in and we fell into the rhythm we were both sure we would find, she’d just let me know what she needed me to do on a task-by-task basis. I didn’t mind, since I’d taken the job to help her out. I’d help with whatever she needed.
After she had gone to man the front, I unzipped the fancy-looking suit bag to unearth the very first garments I would clean. The fabric the suit was made of was thick and luxurious. It was no wonder it had been so much heavier than I had expected the bag to be.
Addie hadn’t been kidding when she said it was bespoke. I ran my fingers over the black pinstripe, relishing the feel of it beneath my fingers as I examined the craftsmanship. The stitching was immaculate, there was no label in sight, and to my trained eye, it was easy to see the lining had been sewn in by hand.
As I carefully laid the suit out on the cleaning station, I caught the faintest whiff of expensive cologne clinging to the fabric. Or maybe it had been clinging to the bag that I’d just hung up on the rail beside me.
Whichever it was, the cologne smelled damn good. Masculine and bold with the barest traces of black currant and bergamot. Whoever owned this suit had amazing taste in the scent department. Come to think of it, he also had amazing taste in tailors. The suit was design-gasm worthy for sure.
I’d happily have worshiped at the feet of the designer if they’d let me work for them. It would have been incredible to learn from someone so masterful at their craft.
But I didn’t work for the designer, and I wasn’t learning from them. I had learned from Addie, however, and it was time to start applying what she’d taught me this morning.
I found out approximately eleven and a half minutes later that I hadn’t learned from her quite as well as I’d thought I had. My eyes widened as I stared in abject horror at what I had done.
The offending bottle of bleach was still in my hand, but it wasn’t labeled as bleach. It had no label on it at all.
But it was definitely bleach, all right. There was no doubt about it. My lips parted on a silent scream. Holy crows feet. I ruined it. I ruined a suit that has to cost more than I make in a year.
“Addie,” I called, unable to tear my gaze away from the bright orange blotches now staining that incredible and luxurious fabric. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.
“What can I do for you, hone—” She abruptly stopped talking when she came to stand next to me and saw what I had done. For a long minute, she just stood there gaping at the mess I had made. Sighing as she put a gentle hand on my shoulder, she gave me an understanding smile. “It’s going to be okay, dear.”
“I’m so, so sorry, Addie,” I whispered. My voice had abandoned me, and my hands were shaking. “I didn’t realize there was bleach in that bottle.”
“I shouldn’t have put it in there,” she said, her blue eyes on mine sincere. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Shit happens. That’s just the way life goes.”
“You’re not angry with me?” I frowned, finally managing to find some semblance of my voice.
Addie blinked a few times in confusion. “Why would I be mad at you? I’m the one who put bleach in an old bottle. I should have labeled it or warned you at least. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’m just not used to having to explain things to anyone.”
“What are we going to do?” A shiver of fear crept up my spine. There was no way I could afford to replace that suit, not unless I worked here for free for the next two hundred or so years. As much as I would have liked to offer that I would work for free for at least a few years to help her repay the client, I couldn’t.
Not unless I get a second job, too. Maybe that won’t be so bad. I can find something with night shifts. It will leave Mom to look after Lydia more, but maybe—
“Maggie?” Addie’s voice pulled me out of my mental ramblings. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. You’re not the first or the only person who’s ever made a mistake. I’ll call the client and explain what happened. He’s going to be angry, sure, but he’s a good man. We’ll work something out.”
“Okay.” I was back to whispering. Work something out? Work what out?
I had done this, not Addie. If anyone was going to have to work something out with the client, it was me. My heart was slamming in my chest, my blood pounding in my ears. What have I done?
“Let me call them. This is my fault.”
“Nonsense. I know the client. Let me speak to him.” Addie patted my shoulder. “Just breathe, sweetheart. Breathe. I’ll be back. Try not to pass out while I’m gone, okay?”
I nodded but couldn’t say anything. There was a real possibility that I was going to pass out, but I still couldn’t leave her to face the consequences for the mess I had made by myself.
After forcing myself to follow her advice and breathing in deeply through my nose a few times, I finally managed to order my feet to move.
Addie was already on the phone by
the time I made it to the front. Although I couldn’t hear what he was saying, I could make out that the client certainly wasn’t happy. I cringed as I watched Addie take whatever he was saying to her.
She didn’t deserve this. This was on me. I didn’t know when, or even if, the customer was going to come in to collect the ruined suit, but I would be here when he did. No matter what, I was going to be the one to face him. And then I’d figure out what the hell to say when I did.
Chapter 7
Noah
“This is the best pizza in the world,” I said to Jordan over lunch at a little Italian bistro we’d discovered one day in the midst of a pizza emergency. Those were a real thing when you had a sudden and intense craving for a slice of cheesy goodness. “Seriously, I think we should buy this place and eat here every day.”
Jordan raised his eyebrows, swallowing the bite he’d just taken. “Please tell me you’re kidding. With you, I never know for sure.”
“I’m not.” I didn’t know anything about owning a restaurant, but it couldn’t be that hard to figure it out. “How many hours a day do you think we’d need to work out to stop ourselves from rolling around if I did buy it?”
“More than either of us have available.” He pointed his slice at me. “Seriously. Stop thinking about buying it. We can’t eat pizza every day. It’s a bad example for Della.”
“Della’s not here now,” I argued. “We don’t have to bring her with us every day. How about every other day?”
“I don’t think Mom’s going to agree to babysit her every other day just so we can sit down stuffing our faces.”
I cocked my head. “Really? I think she would if she knew how good this was.”
“Forget it, Noah.” He laughed. “And stop trying to change the topic. I asked you who you’re going to take with you to the event next weekend.”
I blew out a breath and took a sip of my soda. Jordan chewed another bite as he waited for my response, but he had that determined glint in his eyes that told me he wasn’t going to let it go. Not even if I tried to convince him that we should buy the restaurant or with any other crazy ideas.
“I don’t understand why I have to take anyone. I considered it briefly the day I got the invite, but I decided it’s a bad idea.”
“It’s the exact opposite of a bad idea, bro,” he said between bites. The guy was going at that pizza like he hadn’t had any food for years. I had to admire him for his gusto, especially since we’d had a huge breakfast with Mom and Della just a few hours ago. “It’s shows that you don’t have commitment issues.”
“Why do I need to show that I don’t have commitment issues? I’m trying to get them to buy a water filtration system, not trying to marry them.”
“Spending millions of dollars on your product is a commitment, bro, whether you like it or not.”
I opened my mouth to reply when my phone started buzzing on the table. Addie’s name lit up the display.
I frowned as I picked it up and slid my thumb across the screen before bringing it to my ear. “Hey, Addie. Is everything okay? I know my suit can’t be ready yet.”
A heavy sigh sounded from her end of the line. “I’m really sorry to have to tell you this, but there’s been an accident. Your suit won’t be ready at all. I’m afraid it’s ruined.”
“Ruined?” My voice came out louder than I intended. “What do you mean it’s ruined?”
“I mean there was an accident involving a bottle of bleach, and there’s nothing I can do that will fix it.”
“You got bleach on my eight-thousand-dollar suit?” I snapped. “How the fuck did that happen?”
“It was an accident, Noah. I’m so sorry. Please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me?” The volume of my voice was starting to draw the attention of our fellow diners, but I didn’t care. “Unless you can magic up an identical suit to that one, I’m not sure you can make it up to me.”
“We have to be able to work something out,” she said imploringly. “Perhaps I can do your cleaning free for the rest of the year or something. Anything. You name it, and it’s yours.”
“You’re insane if you think I’m going to get any more clean—” Jordan’s warning glare cut me off.
Screwing my eyes shut, I inhaled deeply a few times to calm my racing heart. I was pissed off, sure, but he was right. I couldn’t yell at an old lady. My mother would castrate me, and I happened to like my balls.
“Tell you what,” I said. “I’m just having lunch with my brother. When we’re done, I’ll come over there, and we’ll talk. Okay?”
“We’ll be waiting,” she said. After adding another apology, she finally ended the call.
I put my phone back down on the table and just stared at it for a beat.
“I assume you’re going to have to go choose another one out of your seventy-five thousand suits for the event,” Jordan said, a slight smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “I guess I understand now why you have so many of the things. I never quite got it before.”
“Shut up.” I narrowed my eyes as I glared at him. “For your information, I can’t just go choose another suit from my closet. I don’t have another suit like that one.”
“What’s the big deal?” He lifted one shoulder on a shrug. “Why does it have to be like that one? You’ve got more than enough to choose from. Even if you didn’t, it’s not like you can’t afford a new one. You can buy any damn suit that you want.”
“The big deal is that it was the first suit I bought with my own money, and now it’s ruined because Addie’s apparently fucking incompetent.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “She’s not incompetent, and you know it. So what if that was the first suit you bought with your own money? You’ve probably bought hundreds since. Also with your own money. It’s a suit, for God’s sake. It’s not your fucking patent or your house that she ruined.”
Annoyed as I was, he did have a good point. I puffed up my cheeks, took another deep breath, and closed my eyes before I nodded. “Fine. I hear you. I might have overreacted a little.”
“A little?” he teased, picking up the last slice of his pizza. “Do you also think that a category-five hurricane is nothing but a light breeze.”
“Fuck you,” I said, but I couldn’t completely hold back my smile. “It’s a moderate breeze, not a light one.”
“Whatever you say, little brother.” He stuffed the crust in his mouth and smirked at me while he chewed, his arms crossed over his chest.
While I had calmed down a lot since I first got the call, I was still upset about the suit when I got to Addie’s after lunch. As she had promised she would be, she was waiting for me behind the counter when I walked in.
Her lips were pressed into a thin, worried line, and her brow was wrinkled. “Let me tell you in person how sorry I am about this. I really am, Noah.”
“How did this happen?” I asked. “I’ve been coming to you for years, and you’ve never made a mistake.”
It wasn’t Addie’s voice that answered my question but a much softer, much younger feminine voice that spoke up from the back. “It’s not Addie’s fault. It’s mine.”
The speaker stepped out from around the partition, and when I saw her, my jaw nearly hit the fucking floor. It took my brain a few seconds to catch up to who my eyes were looking at.
Maggie Hampton? What the fuck is she doing here?
I hadn’t seen her in years, but I would recognize her anywhere. If you woke me up in the middle of the darkest night, blindfolded me, and told me to act on pure instinct, I’d still recognize her with whatever senses I had left.
That wasn’t to say that she hadn’t changed in all those years since I’d last seen her, though. The little girl who’d once followed Ryan and me everywhere with a pocket-sized sketchbook clutched in one hand and a soda in the other definitely wasn’t little anymore. Or a girl.
No, she was all woman now. And she’s fucking stunning.
Long
beautiful golden-brown locks framed her gorgeous face and fell to her waist in a soft, cascading wave. Her full pink lips were currently turned down at the corners, but I remembered all too well what kissing them had felt like, and I had the sudden urge to do it again. Not that I would, or even could, because I’d lost that right a long-ass fucking time ago, but God I wanted to.
Looking out at the world from eyes the color of freshly cut grass in spring, Maggie Hampton had turned into a fucking stunner. Gone was the slightly awkward, slightly nerdy, slightly gangly teenager that I remembered.
In her place was a woman who stood tall, her shoulders pulled back, and her chin raised as she looked at me like she’d seen a fucking ghost. The apples of her cheeks drained of color as she stood there blinking those long lashes of hers.
I didn’t blame her for the way her jaw tightened or the anger combined with a healthy dose of betrayal that flashed in her eyes. Shame slammed into me with such intensity that my head spun because she had every right to look at me that way.
What I had done was unforgivable, and there was nothing I could ever do to make it right. I’d had my reasons for not going to her brother’s funeral, but in that instant, I knew that they had never been good enough.
If it was too painful for me to see my best friend in a casket, what the hell had it done to her that she had to see her brother that way? And what was worse than that was that I’d left her to face that heart-wrenching, knee-numbing, end-of-the-world pain all by herself.
Fuck, I really am an asshole.
Chapter 8
Maggie
Noah Sims had starred in every one of my teenage fantasies. In fact, I was pretty sure I had him to thank for discovering that my vagina had needs of her own.
Three years older than me and having met Ryan on their first day of elementary school, I literally couldn’t remember the few years in my life when I hadn’t known him. Noah and Ryan were a best friend match made in heaven pretty much instantly.