Page 5 of He Knows When You're Awake

Chloe studies me, her brow furrowed in concern. “I get it, I do. But how will you support yourself? You said the banks won’t give you a loan.”

I take another sip of my martini, steeling myself. “I’ve been saving every penny I can. It’s not much, but it’s enough to get started. I figure I have about three months of runway before I’d have to start waiting tables or something.”

“Three months isn’t a lot of time,” Chloe points out gently.

“I know,” I admit. “But I have to try. If I don’t do this now, I never will.”

Chloe nods slowly, a smile spreading across her face. “You know what? You’re right. It’s time for Sloane Whitmore to take over the world with her badass jewelry.”

I laugh, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. “I don’t know about taking over the world. I’d settle for making enough to pay rent and keep designing.”

“Oh please,” Chloe scoffs. “Your stuff is incredible. Once people see it, you’ll be the next big thing. I can see it now—‘Sloane Whitmore: The Dark Rose of the Manhattan Jewelry Scene.’”

I nearly choke on my drink. “The Dark Rose? Really?”

Chloe grins. “Hey, every designer needs a dramatic nickname. Might as well claim yours early.”

“I think the nickname needs work.” I laugh, shaking my head at Chloe’s enthusiasm.

But beneath the amusement, I feel a spark of something I haven’t felt in months—hope. Maybe she’s right. Maybe this is my moment to finally show the world what I can do.

As we finish our drinks, I can’t resist the urge to scan the bar, wondering if I’ll catch another glimpse of Cole. But the crowd has thinned, and there’s no sign of his commanding presence.

“Earth to Sloane,” Chloe says, waving a hand in front of my face. “You’re thinking about Mr. Expensive Scotch, aren’t you?”

I feel my face heat. “No, I was just... okay, maybe a little.”

“I knew it. Spill. What exactly happened before I got here?”

I recount the collision, the ruined sweater, and our brief conversation. As I describe Cole’s interest in my designs, I find myself wishing I’d had the courage to show him my sketches.

“Sounds like you made quite an impression,” Chloe says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I roll my eyes. “Please. He was just being polite after I ruined his suit. Besides, men like that don’t go for women who wear light-up reindeer sweaters and can’t afford their own scotch.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Chloe insists. “You’re brilliant, talented, and gorgeous. Any man would be lucky to have you spill drinks on him.”

“Thanks, Chlo. But right now, I need to focus on my career, not some random encounter with a handsome stranger.”

“Fair enough,” she concedes. “So, what’s the plan? How are we launching the Sloane Whitmore collection?”

I take a deep breath, suddenly feeling the weight of my decision. “First, I need to give notice at Moth to the Flame. Then I’ll need tofind a small studio space, maybe sublet something in the Garment District. I’ve got some contacts from fashion week who might be interested in featuring a piece or two...”

As I outline my fledgling plans, I feel a mix of excitement and terror. This is really happening. I’m really doing this.

“You’ve got this,” Chloe says, squeezing my hand. “And I’ll be here every step of the way. Even if that means modeling your pieces in my pajamas at three a.m.”

I laugh, picturing Chloe draped in my edgy designs while wearing her favorite fuzzy cat pajamas. “I might take you up on that.” Changing the subject, I ask, “Do you and Jack have any big holiday plans this year?” I love that my friend is in a happy relationship, but a small part of me is envious. Jack is exactly the kind of supportive partner I’ve always dreamed of having.

“Staying put since he’ll have to work. But I’m actually looking forward to another Christmas at the fire station this year. What about you? Are you going to Montauk?”

I shake my head, feeling a familiar pang of loneliness. “Not this year. I really need to focus on my line.”

Chloe’s brow furrows again. “Sloane, you can’t work through Christmas. Your family will be devastated.”

I shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. “They’ll understand. This is important.”

“So is family,” Chloe counters gently. “Promise me you’ll at least take some time off on Christmas Day?”