“Yes, it is. At least there are finished products going up on the racks.”
He put an arm around her and hugged her close. “And beautiful finished products at that. One step at a time, is what you always tell me.”
She turned and smiled at him. “I know. I know. I just want it all to be done right now.”
“But it isn’t, and you need to have patience. Just breathe and take it one day at a time. The reward will be yours at the end, love.”
She laughed. “Quit throwing my own platitudes back at me and get back to work.”
Edward moved off. Carolina went to the rack, checking the finished products against her tablet so she knew what had been completed and what was left to be done.
Too many things left to do and not much time to accomplish them.
She fingered one of her dresses, a simple cotton shift she’d worked hours on designing. She slid her fingers along the scalloped edges. The hint of lace had been a perfect touch. The beige was subdued. She loved its simplicity and hoped the audience would, too.
But maybe it was too simple. Maybe if she amplified the color or changed to a print . . .
“You’re second-guessing yourself again, boss. It’s perfect just the way it is.”
She shifted her gaze to her other assistant, Tierra, a gorgeous, raven-haired beauty and the best seamstress a designer could ever ask for.
“You’re right. That dress is perfect.”
“It is,” Tierra said. “So leave it alone and come talk to me about how you want this shirt stitched. I also have a question about the fabric for this dress. The patterns aren’t matching up like they should.”
The next couple of hours were a flurry of activity. By the time they ended for the day, it was nearly eight p.m. Carolina headed back to her apartment, mentally and physically exhausted.
She changed into yoga pants and pulled a sweater over her long-sleeved shirt, then fixed a frozen Chinese microwaveable meal and sat on the couch cross-legged. She grabbed the remote, needing some mindless television to wind down her brain after today’s intense work session.
She surfed channels, not finding anything that suited her. When she landed on tonight’s hockey game, she stopped, set the remote on the arm of the chair, and watched the game while she ate.
The Travelers were tied one to one with Nashville’s team going into the second period.
After her not-so-stellar showing on the ice skating rink Thanksgiving Day, Carolina watched the ease with which the skaters raced across the ice, sticks in hand. She couldn’t help but focus on Drew as he fought a Nashville player for the puck, always so impressed with his skill on his skates. He’d been so calm and patient with her that day when he could have just as easily blown her off to showboat his superior skating prowess. Instead, he’d put his arm around her and slowly made his way around the ice with her.
Okay, so he wasn’t the jerk he’d been in college. At least he hadn’t been that day at the rink. But he’d still tried his best to get in her pants.
Then again, she hadn’t exactly been throwing off stay away from me signals, had she?
Pondering that thought, she focused again on the game. She hadn’t heard from Drew since she’d asked him to leave her apartment that night. When he’d told her it wasn’t over.
Yet he hadn’t called her and hadn’t been back.
She rolled her eyes and took her bowl to the sink, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher.
Did she expect him to follow up, to chase her down like he’d promised?