Page 74 of Tempt
“Me too.”
“You okay? You sound sort of down.”
“I’m fine.” I tried to perk up my voice. “Just a little tired. I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“Dare I ask why?”
“You could. But you probably don’t need to.”
“So it’s still going on? He’s still here?”
“No, he’s gone. He flew back to San Diego this morning.” I glanced out the window again.
“Oh. Well, that’s probably best.”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Listen, I should go, I’m at work and I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do.”
“Oh, sorry! I thought you had today off. In fact, I was going to tell you that Hutton said to come over any time if you want help with a business plan. He was serious when he offered to help you out.”
“Thank you. I’m definitely going to take him up on it.”
After hanging up, I tackled some chores I’d been avoiding—I cleared out my inbox, reorganized my desk, cleaned the windows, dusted the furniture, and rearranged my bookshelves. When my stomach began to growl, I ordered some lunch and ate it while I scrolled through websites of wedding gown designers on my laptop. Looking at them restored some of my enthusiasm.
When I was finished, I saw that I’d missed a phone call from a downstate area code, but the caller had left a message. I figured it must be the owner of the bridal salon I’d reached out to yesterday, and quickly accessed my voicemail to listen.
“Hello,” said a woman’s voice. “This is Alison Obermeyer from Bellissima Bridal returning your call. I’d be happy to chat with you about my business, and I’m available until five p.m. today. If that doesn’t work, I do have some mornings open this week. And if you’re in the area, feel free to pop in! Hope to talk soon.”
I returned her call, and she was so friendly and forthcoming with information, I found my spirits lifting even more.
“Best thing I ever did,” she said about leaving her job as an administrative assistant and opening the shop. “After my disappointing experience trying to find a wedding dress as a plus-sized woman, all I wanted to do was make sure no one ever felt that way again. Every bride deserves to feel beautiful, and I love that I get to play a role in that.”
“That’s what I want to do too,” I said. I told her about my background and my career, and about conversations I’d had with local brides who had struggled to find a dress that showed off everything they loved about their bodies. “Shopping for regular clothes is hard enough, not to mention dealing with critical mothers or fat-shaming doctors or tiny airplane seats or any of the other ways bigger women can be made to feel bad about their bodies. Finding the perfect wedding dress should make a woman feel celebrated, not humiliated.”
“Exactly,” said Alison. “And I know we’ve only been talking for thirty minutes and I already forgot your last name, but I think you should go for it—open that shop. I’m here to answer any questions and give advice if I can.”
I laughed. “Thank you so much. I’d love to come see your salon.”
“Please do! We’re open Tuesday through Saturday, but if a Sunday or Monday is best for you, just let me know. I’m usually there on my off days too.”
“I’m going to check my schedule and see what this week looks like,” I said. “I’m so excited, I’d like to come down right away.”
Alison laughed. “Do it. Sometimes a dream won’t wait.”
* * *
After rearranging a few meetings, I booked a hotel room in Detroit for Wednesday night and made the drive down that afternoon. I met a friend from college for dinner in Corktown and went back to my room around nine, got ready for bed, and slid between the sheets. I’d just turned on my Kindle when my phone vibrated with a text.
I glanced at it and gasped—it was a message from Zach.
Guess what I’m doing?
My heart hammered as I picked up my phone and studied it. There had been no word from him since he’d left my house Monday morning. Not that I’d expected him to reach out—in fact, I sort of figured he wouldn’t. I almost hoped he wouldn’t. How else was I going to get him out of my head?
But I replied to his text.
What?
Watching Antiques Roadshow.
