Chapter 33

Victoria

I'm backon the movie set Monday afternoon, finally feeling like I've recovered from the week from hell. I spent yesterday with Erin, bonding and talking about our summer vacation plans. Since the movie'll be in town for another month or so, we'll have to wait until later than normal, but we're going to take a trip down the coast, and we're both excited about it. I bought a road atlas, and we spent yesterday afternoon studying the map and looking up different towns along our proposed route to see where we might want to stop and check out.

"So," Mia says as we sort and pull costumes for the week's filming schedule, "Hayden tells me that you like designing clothes too. Not just altering costumes."

My head snaps up at her oh-so-casual comment, my eyes narrowing. "He told you that?"

She shrugs, not looking at me. "I was probing for more information." She glances my way with a smile. "He and I have been friends for years." She points at me. "Just friends, mind you. Nothing else." Another shrug, and she returns her attention to the costumes in front of her. "But I like to keep tabs on who he's romantically involved with. And he's different with you than I've seen him with anyone else. He told me you'd intended to study fashion design and that he'd seen some photos of your work. I'd like to see them too, if you don't mind sharing."

"Why?" Suspicion drips from the single syllable.

Huffing out a laugh, she shakes her head at me. "Because? I'm a costumer. Sometimes I need to commission unique pieces. I already know the quality of your sewing. If I can see your design aesthetic, I'll keep you in mind for future jobs." She rolls her eyes as she says it, like it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

Mollified, I press my lips together and nod. "Oh. Okay."

It takes a few more days for me to actually send Mia the pictures. I guess because I still don't entirely trust her motivations.

"Is this really how you source things normally?" I ask on Thursday, after she asked again why I haven't sent her the pictures of my designs yet. I have them on my phone, and I've sat and stared at them, contemplating whether to actually do it.

We're in the costume trailer, checking over and putting away the costumes from the last couple of days, sorting what needs cleaning and seeing if anything needs repairing. There are several items in my mending pile already.

She steps out from behind a rack of costumes, hands on her hips, and stares me down. "Absolutely. Why wouldn't it be?"

I shrug, running my hand down a sleeve of one of the dresses of Brutus's wife. Aurora Cole. The famous movie star.

This is one of the dresses that I altered. It's crazy to think about seeing my work on the big screen. Not just from this movie, but possibly my original designs—costumes I create myself—on future projects if Mia's to be believed.

Shaking my head, I sort the dress onto the rack for costumes that are ready to be used again. "I don't know. I don't know how these things normally work."

I can practically hear the eye roll in her voice, and when I glance up, I catch the tail end of it. "How things normally work is people jump on the chances that are presented to them. Like if a costumer asks for pictures of your designs, you send them to her and don't fuss about her motivation. Who cares why I'm asking? I'm asking, aren't I? Whether I'm doing it as a favor to a friend—which I'm not, by the way—or because of my own independent interest, why should you care? I'm not going to use your designs if I don't like them. How you get the opportunity to share them doesn't really matter. It's what you do with the opportunity and the quality of your work."

I blink at her lecture, open my mouth, close it again, then wrinkle my brow as I run through her words again in my head. "Hayden didn't ask you to ask me about it?"

She rolls her eyes again, letting out a heavy sigh and crossing her arms, her hip cocked to one side. "So what if he did? Who cares? He'd only ask me to talk to you if he thought you were good enough. Because he knows me well enough not to recommend someone or something to me that'll just let me down. Come on, lady! I have another movie lined up after this. It's a sci-fi, futuristic thing. It's got a big budget, and they're giving me lots of money to work with. This is a huge opportunity for you! Why are you acting like I'm trying to convince you to sell me your kid?"

Laughing, I shake my head. "Alright. I'll send them tonight."

She arches an eyebrow, still standing with her arms crossed and hip cocked. "You don't have them on your phone?"

"Well …"

"Just send them now! Why wait? I want to see what you've got."

Sighing, I set the shirt in my hand back on the rack in front of me and pull out my phone. "Fine. But I don't have anything futuristic."

She waves a hand. "Just show me what you do have, and I'll tell you if I need something else. Do you have drawings too?" She moves to stand next to me, peering over my shoulder as I open the album where I've saved all the pictures I've contemplated sending.

"Oooh," she says appreciatively, watching as I select which ones to send. "Wait. What are you doing? No, I want that one you just skipped. Stop being so choosy! Send them all! Gimme gimme gimme!" She makes grabby hands for my phone, and I turn away, laughing.

"Fine! Stop! I'll send them all! Jeez!" She puts her hands on her hips and glares at me until I hit send and stuff my phone back in my jeans pocket. "There. Sent. Happy?"

She maintains her stance and her glare until her phone chimes, then she pulls it out and grins. "Yes. Very. Now, was that so hard?"

I roll my eyes, and she laughs as she swipes through the pictures. "Okay. So. I'll send you some specs and have you draw up some ideas, okay? Ohh, this is nice," she coos, stopping on one.

"Which one?"

She turns her phone and shows me a wedding gown I designed and created, all slinky lines in pretty cream silk, draping over the bride's curvy figure and showing it off to perfection, ruching and gathers in all the right places.

I beam. "Thanks. I was pretty proud of that one. It took ages, but it was worth it. The bride loved it too."

"As she should," she murmurs. "Hayden's right, though, your work is fantastic. Oh, these mother-daughter costumes are so fun, even if they're not as elegant and high quality." She squints at her phone, tilting her head. "You said your kid is ten, right?"

"Yeah. She's almost done with fourth grade."

She nods. "Okay, so some of these are a few years old. That makes sense. Your work has really grown in the last few years." When she tucks her phone back into her pocket, her face is serious, but also glowing like she's just found the holy grail. "You and I aren't anywhere near done working together." She holds up her hands, palms out, as though forestalling a protest I haven't begun to make. "I know, I know, your life is here. You have a job and friends and a kid and all that. I'm not trying to convince you to go anywhere else. But I'll definitely be using you for some of these types of projects where I need custom designs and sewing done." She pauses, pressing her lips together as she talks to me. "Much as I hate to suggest it, because I worry it'll cut into time you would use for my projects, but you should talk to Aurora. Show her that wedding gown."

I raise an eyebrow. "Why? Is she getting married?"

Mia laughs, waving off that question. "No. But she'll need a dress for the premiere of this film. Talk to her before filming's done." She points at me. "I'm serious. None of this hand-wringing and suspicion you've been giving me about why and, ‘What'll people think?' People will think it's amazing. And if they don't? Who cares? They don't pay your bills. Fuck ‘em."

That surprises a laugh out of me, but I nod. "Yeah, okay. Good point. I'll see if I can find time to talk to her."

She waves me off. "No you won't. We both know you're not forward enough to do that. I'll show her the pic and see what she thinks. Then she'll find you, I promise."

Grinning, I nod. "Okay. That sounds like a plan."

Later that evening, I make my way to Hayden's trailer after all my work is done. I'm fighting a smile, but also a little … I'm not sure what. I don't know how I feel about him putting up Mia to talk to me.

No matter what she claims, I know he didn't just mention my youthful fashion design aspirations in passing. He offered to put me in touch with movie stars—movie stars like Aurora—and why else would he do that except to pitch me as a fashion designer wanting to dress them for some event or other?

But I shut that down. So he did an end run and enlisted Mia. And since Mia knows about us, it makes sense that he might talk about me to her now, I guess.

Still. I'm not convinced she decided to ask for the pictures on her own. Though her point about him knowing her well enough not to recommend something she wouldn't like is a good one.

And her other point—about why should it matter why she asked—keeps circling in my head. That people who succeed make the most of the opportunities they get and don't question the why and how too closely.

Part of it is also that I'd basically given up on the dream of designing beautiful clothes for people to wear. Sure, when I was a teenager, I thought it'd be cool if I could get to a point where celebrities were photographed wearing my designs, but that dream died a decade ago.

To have it dangled in front of me again now? It just feels too good to be true. And I've learned through hard and bitter experience that things that appear too good to be true usually are.

But what if it's not? whispers the voice of my teenage self deep in the recesses of my mind. What if it could all come true?

And why couldn't it? I mean, I'm involved with a celebrity. Mia said she'd show that wedding dress to Aurora Cole and suggest working with me for a red carpet gown.

What would that be like? To have a famous movie star wearing my dress and saying my name when the reporters ask who she's wearing?

My heart rate picks up just thinking about it, flashes of excitement sparking in my veins.

It would be …

Amazing.

Incredible.

Unbelievable.

"It's not even on the horizon," I remind myself sternly. "It's a remote possibility at best." At least for now.

But if Hayden has his way …

I mean, I could ask for his help. He offered, so it wouldn't be the same as people who've only wanted to be with him for what he could do for them, right? That's never been why I wanted to be with him.

But the idea of him randomly telling people to work with me because we're involved makes my stomach turn. For some reason, Mia suggesting me to Aurora doesn't feel terrible, but the thought of Hayden doing the same thing is untenable.

Which must be why he put Mia up to all of this in the first place.