Joelle Morrow has her focus set on the future. As an up-and-coming lingerie designer, she's overcome multiple setbacks on the road to achieving her dream of opening her own boutique but has yet to be knocked down, leaving her no time to think about...
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"Wow," Aimee said, brows jumping high as she walked into the room that used to be hers. "You've really been busy."
Since my desk, sewing machine, and fabric collection only took up about a third of the room, I'd devoted the rest of the space to organizing my growing assortment of designs. Several single bar clothing racks I'd gotten for cheap at a local department store were now arranged along the far wall, all nearly filled to the max. There was a range of colors, a slew of base styles that I'd expanded on, and sizes ranging from what felt like zero to infinity.
Something for everybody.
"Yeah, it's been a lot," I said, feeling accomplished as my gaze arched the room, "but now I have everything set for the opening."
"Damn, maybe I should've moved out sooner then, if it would've gotten your ass into gear like this."
"I don't think that's what was holding me back," I mused, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "I think I just needed to know I was actually going to move forward with the boutique and not have it stuck as a pipe dream inside my head. Though the extra space helps," I added as an afterthought.
"I always knew you'd get here." She grinned, skimming the racks. "Ever since you first told me about your idea junior year. You were always so confident about it, but even after leaving your job to break out on your own and failing the first time, I knew you'd get to this point."
Being careful of her small baby bump, I lightly nudged her side. "My own personal cheerleader."
"You sure Seb hasn't edged me out for that position yet?" she asked cheekily.
A flare of heat colored my cheeks. "Not yet."
Despite the fight we'd had the day of the photoshoot, Seb and I had managed to talk things out and clear the air between us. He'd apologized and understood where I was coming from in terms of needing periods of time to solely focus on my work, so I didn't see the point of hanging on to any feelings of animosity.
She eyed me with curious disbelief. "You sure about that?"
"I mean, he hasn't edged you out. Nobody could. But he's closing in."
The last words were an admission I hadn't yet made out loud, and were thus let out in a whisper.
Her eyes gleamed knowingly with mischief. With happiness. "Uh oh," she teased, "it sounds like somebody's in love."
Love. Love. Love.
The word looped through my mind as the seconds ticked passed and I tried to come up with an excuse to deny it. It wasn't the right time, I had too much to focus on career-wise, and we weren't meant to be getting this serious this fast.
But there was also a voice in the back of my head saying Aimee was right. That I'd made a hop, skip, and a jump over the hill and had fallen in love. Thinking about the way I smiled whenever he was around, the pride I felt watching him give it his all on the ice, and the safety and comfort I felt in his arms, the realization slowly began to take shape.
