Sophia

 

 

"You're full of it, Sophia." Dexie Walsh finishes the last sip of wine in her glass. "You're just saying that you're going to have dinner with Claudia Stefano because of that picture of Libby Duncan holding my purse at her latest movie premiere that went viral online. You're totally trying to one up me."

"First off," I begin as I wiggle my right index finger in the air. "That picture didn't go viral. It barely got a thousand views on that fashion blog, Dex. Secondly, I am having dinner with Claudia Stefano and it may benefit you too and lastly, I loved that purse Libby Duncan was holding. It was one of your best to date."

She pushes her hip against my kitchen counter. "Let's pretend you are actually having dinner with Claudia Stefano. Explain how that would benefit me."

I roll up the towel in my hand and toss it in her direction. "Dry the plates."

"Let them drip dry." She places the towel on the counter next to me. "We could have eaten out of the take-out boxes. You didn't have to set the table."

I reach for the towel and give each of the two plates I just washed, a quick dry before I place them back in the cupboard. "We have dinner once a month. It's always the same take-out. I wanted this to be a mini celebration in honor of my impending meeting with Claudia."

"It's Claudia now?" she quips. "You two are on a first name basis already?"

"Nicholas calls her that. They're friends."

I study Dexie's face as she considers that. Her blonde hair is streaked with pale pink. The color does little to accent her dark eyes, but they still pop. Dexie works full-time in the marketing department of Matiz. We met through Crew initially, but as soon as we realized that we both have a love of fashion, our connection took on a life of its own. Dexie designs handbags and crafts them all in a small studio uptown. She's offered me a corner to work on my own stuff, but the space is too cramped and I'm much more comfortable here, in my apartment with my sewing machine and over a thousand square feet all to myself.

"I still can't believe you're fucking Nicholas Wolf."

I feign a sigh. "We do more than fuck. We date."

"You eat dinner and then you fuck, right? Isn't that what dating is?"

I turn toward the living room. "Technically, I guess that's a big part of it, but he wants more already. Today he told me that his mom wants to meet me."

"Already?" She pours more wine in her glass. "You two just met."

It's been a few weeks, but she's right on point. It's early in our relationship and meeting a parent is something I've only done once before. In my world, that's reserved for something more serious than a few dates and a handful of moments of intimacy.

"I like him a lot," I confess. "He's told me some stuff about his past that helped us get closer. I think he sees the same potential with me that I see with him."

"What stuff did he tell you?" She tucks her hair behind her ear. "Is it juicy? Should I pull up a seat?"

I wave toward the living room. "Be my guest, but I'm not sharing. He told me things in confidence and I'm not breaking his trust."

"Some friend you are." She giggles. "Forget him then. Tell me about Claudia."

I laugh at her use of the designer's first name. "Nicholas is taking me to meet her for dinner next Wednesday. I'm going to design a new dress and I thought if you wanted, I could use one of your bags as an accessory."

She reaches forward to hug me. "You're not fucking serious, are you? Tell me this is real."

I push back on her shoulders and gaze down at the pink, long sleeved off the shoulder shirt she's wearing. I designed it for her months ago and virtually every time I see her now she's wearing it. Tonight it's paired with worn blue jeans. Often, she'll be wearing it with a black skirt. Besides Cadence, Dexie is the only person who is as excited about my designs as I am. "This is as real as it gets. I need something tasteful that will go with the new black dress I'm designing."

"I have a clutch that I think you'll love. I can drop it by Foster tomorrow on my lunch break."

"This dinner could change our lives forever, Dex."

"If it does, you'll need to thank Nicholas for both of us." She wiggles her perfectly arched brows.

 

***

 

"Are you here for the piano or me?"

I smile up at him. He's been sleeping. I can tell by the way his hair looks and the fact that he's wearing nothing but a pair of black silk pajamas. I came over to his place right after Dexie left my apartment. We'd worked side-by-side for two hours on a sketch of the new dress I want to wear when I meet Claudia.

Dexie had contributed with the random nod of her head or wince. By the time we were done, I had a design that I know will impress the woman Nicholas has arranged for me to meet. If this design doesn't get my pieces a spot on the rack in one of her boutiques, I don't know what will.

"I'm here to show you my latest design." I look past him to his darkened apartment. "Can I come in?"

"If you promise to strip as soon as I close the door, the answer is yes."

I laugh as I push past him. "I wanted to show you this so badly. I should have called first to see if you were awake."

"I settled in early because I'm getting up at dawn to finish the rough draft on my next book."

"Action's Cause?"

He huffs out a laugh. "I finished that one up seven months ago. The one I'm working on now is the follow-up to that."

"What's it called?" I ask excitedly even though I've yet to read more than the first chapter of Burden's Proof.

"That's between me and my publisher."

I smile when he winks at me. "You don't have a title for it yet, do you?"

"Fuck, no. I'm stumped. Throw out some ideas for me."

"For a title for your book?" I eye him suspiciously. "You know that I have absolutely no talent when it comes to stuff like that."

"That's what makes you perfect." He leans forward to kiss me softly. "You don’t have any skin in the game. You're impartial."

"In that case, I need to read some of it to get a better idea of what I'm working with."

He wraps his fingers around my wrist, his touch soft and gentle. "You're not serious, are you?"

I know how much it would mean to him for me to show more of an interest in his work. He's gone out of his way twice to help me with mine. He set me up with Joe and a week from now I'll be breaking bread with one of my fashion idols and it's all because of him.

"I want to read it."

"Now?"

I didn’t expect that. I assumed we'd make love and then I'd show him my sketch but he needs this more than I need his approval on a dress that I already know is spectacular. "Now."

"Wait." His thumb runs across my cheek. "I'll take you to bed first, make you come and then you'll tell me whether you think my next book is a fucked up mess or not."

"That's a deal I can't possibly refuse."