Page 28 of Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye

“Why? It’s not like you’ll be doing him on the side of a mountain.” Sarah snickered. “What about an art gallery? That’s safe. You’ll love the Tate Modern. Lots of pop art.”

“I dunno. I think he’s more sporty than arty.”

“Go skating, then. You brought your skates with you, right? You could show off how flexible you are.”

“Saz!” Leia laughed. “Yeah, I guess we could go skating. Hey, remember that rink Dad found online? The Tower of London one where they used to torture and behead people? Maybe we should go there. Blood and gore definitely ticks the ‘non-romantic’ box.”

“Nah, go to Somerset House,” said Sarah. “It’s this beautiful neoclassical building on the Strand, and every Christmas there’s a rink in their courtyard. It’s pretty and sooo London.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound romantic at all.” Leia smirked.

“You’ve done zero sightseeing while you’ve been here. Go see it and have a truly London experience—before it closes for the season.”

Leia bit back her grin. “I don’t know. I wish this wasn’t so complicated.”

“It’s not.” Sarah squinted ahead. “You’re the one complicating things.”

“But what about Simon? We could be business associates, friends. If I sleep with Tarquin, it’s too close for comfort, you know? It blurs the line a bit. Flings are supposed to be just you and some guy. No mixing friends, definitely no meeting family—”

“Oh, cheers, then!” said Sarah with a huff, hanging a right onto Caledonian Road. The accessible Tube station was across the street and about a minute away.

“You know what I mean. Our lives need to be separate, otherwise it feels like a relationship.” Leia smiled at the people waiting by the bus shelter as she slipped past with Sarah. “At one point, he asked about Mom, and I shut him down.”

“Oh, I don’t blame you. I hate telling new people she died.” Sarah winced up at her sister. “You always get the pity face.”

“And questions, but I give Tarquin credit—he didn’t go there. The less he knows about me, the better. I don’t want him becoming attached…that’s IF I even see him again.”

“You mean when you see him again.” Sarah flashed a cheeky smile and pulled her Oyster card from her pocket.

• • •

Icy rain pecked the windows of Simon’s second-floor apartment, sandwiched between his boutique on the ground floor and a rented apartment on the third. The steady tapping on the glass went unnoticed by Leia, alone and lost in thought as she hung her empty garment bag on a rolling clothes rack in his workroom. The cloth shell swung and gaped open like a vacated chrysalis, its precious cargo gone, already evolving into something new.

She swiveled back to Simon’s worktable and the white silk Jenny Packham dress covering its surface, her hand smoothing the expensive fabric still cold from her morning journey. I loved you once, but it’s time to let you go. A sour taste rose in her throat as her fingers lingered, tracing the embellished neckline of crystal jewels, which danced and flirted with the room’s overhead spotlights. The floor-length sheath with its signature open back was elegant and modern, sexy and easy to wear—Leia’s dream wedding gown come to life, but it was also a souvenir of her nightmare ‘ever after’. Fingers skimming over the skirt, her nose itched and tears stung her eyes. I can’t deny it. Even now, I’d still pick you, beautiful dress. The softness of the fabric tugged the corners of her mouth into a delicate smile. Thank you for making me feel gorgeous and hopeful—at least for a little while. Her heart weighed heavy as she quickly wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Now I’ll help you become the dream dress for your next owner. Here’s to a new beginning and hopefully a much happier ending. Picking up a pair of scissors, she threaded her fingers through the holes and poised the open blades at the gown’s waist, her hand shaking above the luxurious fabric. I know. This feels wrong, but… The knot in her stomach cinched tighter. There’s no going back. Inhaling deeply, she held the breath in her lungs. Just do it. Her fingers squeezed the scissor’s handles.

SNIP!

Her heart flinched, but her hand flexed again and again, slicing without mercy through the skirt of the designer dress, severing her past with each cut.

See? With an audible sigh, she let go of the air bottled up in her chest and set down the scissors. That wasn’t so bad, was it? She quickly gathered the silk cuttings and jeweled bodice into a neat pile beside her open laptop and Sarah’s finished denim skirt. Right, let’s make you into a killer prom dress.

Pulling a tissue from the box on Simon’s table, she carefully dabbed her nose and glanced around the cramped workroom, the white-painted walls decorated with row upon row of photos of Simon’s finished designs. I love this space. So inspiring and creative. It also offered all the tools she used back home, including a one-inch grid cutting board, tracing wheels, pattern shears, curved and clear rulers, two sewing machines, and several dress forms—headless, three-dimensional torso ‘mannequins’ used for draping and fitting clothing during the design process. Customizable with removable arms and shaping pads, they made it possible to fit clothing for women of all shapes and sizes, a designer’s secret weapon.

When designing a one-of-a-kind dress, she usually skipped the flat pattern method of garment making and dove into draping: a fun, hands-on technique involving a dress form, the final fabric, and a handful of pins. Like a sculptor, Leia made her gorgeous gowns come alive through her fingertips. Wrapping and shaping the material around the curves of the form, each tuck and pinch allowed serendipity to play its role, and Leia swore these happy accidents made bolder, more unique designs. Draping was more time-consuming than other pattern-making methods, but Leia indulged whenever she could. The feel of the fabric, its softness, its stretch—there was no better way to discover a garment’s beauty and temperament than by improvising on the three-dimensional form. Her current design, the flirty prom dress, wouldn’t be sashaying through Manhattan until May, giving Leia plenty of time to play.

Her phone glowed with a text. Sarah! Stashing her balled-up tissue in a pocket, Leia picked up the phone and raced through the message.

Sarah: Boss sick. She left early so my presentation is now bumped to January 14. Grr!

“Damn, that’s just before I leave.” Leia sniffed and began typing a response, but another message arrived from her sister.

Sarah: Then I got roped into revising my coworker’s 200-page report. Worst timing, too. My Carpal Tunnel is flaring—again.

“Shit.” Sarah’s hands and wrists take such a beating with her chair. She texted back.

Leia: That sucks! I’ll grab tacos on way home to end the day on a high note.

Her sister answered right away.