Page 71 of The Grump Next Door
“She’s gonna marry you. But first, I need coffee, my car keys, and about six hundred dollars in cash.”
His eyes widen. “Uh—”
Dean appears in the doorway as if he was summoned. Hair perfect, shirt pressed, expression somewhere between annoyed and concerned.
“Why is everyone yelling?”
“Dress emergency,” I say.
“Define emergency.”
I gesture at the wine puddle, the coffee splatter, and Mason’s guilty face.
“Ah.” He takes in my appearance—sleep shorts, no bra, hair in yesterday’s bun. His jaw tightens. “What do you need?”
“Prayers. Cash. Maybe a small miracle.”
He pulls out his wallet and hands me a credit card. “Pin’s 0827.”
I stare at it. “You’re just… giving me your credit card?”
“You’re fixing this?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Then yes.”
Our fingers brush during the exchange. Neither of us acknowledges it.
“Try not to make it worse.”
“Your faith in me is touching.”
An almost-smile. “Poppy?”
“Yeah?”
“Put on real clothes first.”
I look down. Right. Basically naked in his kitchen. Cool.
“Give me five minutes.”
***
Two hours later, I’m standing in a vintage shop with the owner, a dress that might work, and a seamstress who thinks I’m insane.
“You want me to what?” She’s sixty, German, and takes no shit.
“Recreate the bodice structure of the ruined dress on this one. Today.”
“Impossible.”
“I’ll pay triple.”
She pauses. “Show me the pictures again.”
I pull up the photos I took of Ivy’s destroyed dress. The seamstress—Greta—studies them like battle plans.
