25. Elise

CHAPTER 25

Elise

This is great. This is great. This is great.

I keep repeating the words over and over as I rip the stitches out of the dress in my lap. Again.

I’m overwhelmed. I’ll admit it. But I don’t know what to do about it.

My show was a huge success, and I got eight orders afterward. Which is amazing.

And terrible.

What was I thinking? How am I supposed to get eight custom orders done on time? There’s no way.

This is great. This is great. Your business is growing. This is what you want.

I feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes and I take a deep breath.

This is what I want.

I just need to figure out how to manage these eight orders. Having three sketches of each of the eight, all eight started, and second guessing myself on every one of them is not it.

I’ll just?—

Suddenly I hear a pounding on my door and, “Elise! Baby! It’s Simon!”

My heart jumps into my throat and I drop everything I was holding.

“Just kick it down!”

That’s Aidan’s voice.

What the hell ?

I frown at the door. “Just open it!” I yell. I’m sure it’s not locked. I just ran down to the bakery…

I frown.

I don’t remember the last time I actually went out or came in the door, to be honest. I usually lock it before bed, of course, but I slept only a couple of hours last night and that’s because I fell asleep on the floor, using one of the might-someday-be-a-dress piles of fabric as a pillow.

The door bursts open and Simon and Aidan storm inside.

“Elise!” Simon finds me amongst the explosion of fabric, sketch pad pages, and cardboard boxes my supplies have been delivered in. He comes straight for me, sinking to his knees and pulling me into his chest. “Jesus, are you alright?”

My nose is smashed against his shoulder and I’m suddenly wondering when I last brushed my teeth. “Yes. Mostly.”

He leans back, studying me. I look up over his shoulder to find Aidan glowering at me.

Glowering . Sweet, amazing Aidan.

“What?” I ask him. “What happened?”

“We were waiting for you at the hockey game,” Aidan says, his voice tight.

“What? Oh, my God!” My gaze flies to the wall clock. It’s eight-thirty on… I have no idea what day it is.

Well, obviously it’s Tuesday because I’m supposed to be at the hockey game. I know better than to think that these guys have the wrong day and somehow I’m right.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” Obviously, Aidan is angry. Which is fair. And I’m not surprised. This is what always happens. I’m shocked this hasn’t happened before now, to be honest. We’ve all been seeing each other for a few weeks and that I just now screwed up a date is a miracle.

“I just totally lost track of time.” I push Simon back and shove material, scissors, my sketch pad and pencils to the floor. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“We did,” Simon says. “Over and over.”

Fuck. Of course they did. I look around. I haven’t seen my phone in hours. Probably since yesterday. It’s here somewhere. I’m pretty sure. God knows how many calls and texts I’ve missed.

Fuck , what if some of them are from customers?

The idea of more customers dumps unwanted adrenaline into my system. I want more customers, but I swear if there’s one more order on my phone, I’m going to burst into tears. It’s too much all at once. I want steady orders. Orders I can keep up with. I want to feel like a badass boss, staying on top of things, and doing amazing work.

This isn’t it.

Maybe it will never be it.

It’s not like organization and time management are skills I possess. I can design and sew, but I need more than that if I want to run the business I want.

Then I look up at Aidan and Simon again.

Aidan. And Simon. Are here. In my apartment. Because I was supposed to meet them at Blake’s game.

I completely forgot. I had a date with my three boyfriends and I forgot.

I let them all down at once.

I stand quickly. “I’m so sorry. I can just…”

But I can’t get ready for the game now . It’s way past the start and they’re here . And I’m a mess. I would need to shower and get dressed and do my hair.

I look down.

Oh, God . I’m wearing shorts—something I almost never do—and a baggy shirt that I pulled from a pile on the chair in my room. I’m not wearing a bra and I haven’t showered since before the pinup show.

My hand flies to my hair.

I have no idea how it looks, but I’m pretty sure it’s not good.

I know Simon told me that he is a mess too, but he has people who keep him on schedule and organized. And Aidan… he so effortlessly takes care of things.

I hate them seeing me like this. A messy apartment is one thing. Seeing me as the disaster I am is frustrating.

“You have to leave,” I tell them.

My heart is hammering and I have literally no idea what my next step should be.

I feel like I should shower. But I should finish these dresses. I should find my phone and check my messages. I should maybe eat. When did I last eat? I should maybe go to bed. My head feels a little fuzzy and I don’t know if it’s low blood sugar, or lack of sleep, or just a mental breakdown. Or all three.

“Elise,” Simon says softly, stepping forward. He steps on my scissors, but he doesn’t even look down. “It’s okay. We were just concerned.”

I shake my head. “It’s not okay. I blew you off. All of you. I wasn’t there for Blake.”

“Blake is fine,” Simon tells me. “He’s also at work. He knows how to do that no matter who is in the stands. Or who isn’t. He understands that you have a job too, and that you had a great show the other day and he’ll be happy to know that you’ve got a ton of orders to fill.”

I shake my head harder. “But I forgot . If I needed to work I should have told you all that. But I didn’t. I just forgot.”

Simon steps forward, taking my upper arms in his hands and squeezing. “It’s okay.”

I stiffen in his hold. “Please don’t hug me. I don’t remember the last time I showered. Or brushed my teeth. Or my hair.”

His gaze softens. “You look beautiful.”

I frown and shake my head. “Don’t say that. That is not true. That just makes this all worse.”

Finally, Aidan speaks. “Elise.”

I look around Simon to him.

“We are not angry. We were worried . We were afraid you had a car accident. Or you were sick. I’ll admit my memory flashed back to the fire for a minute, too.”

I wince. I can understand why they might have thought about all of those things. Shit. It’s sweet that they were worried and one more reason I suck at having a boyfriend.

“And yes,” he goes on. “It is a little frustrating that you misplace your phone, and we’re going to have to come up with a way to compensate for that. But we’re obviously able to just come over and check on you. Which is what we did.” He takes a step closer. “You’re getting used to having three men who care about where and how you are. We’re getting used to having a girl that sometimes loses track of time and isn’t easy to check on. We just need to come up with some ways of dealing with that. But we are not angry with you,” he repeats.

He holds out a hand, palm up. Instinctively, I reach out and take it. He tugs me toward him, and I brace for the hug.

But he doesn’t hug me. He turns me toward the bathroom. “Get in the shower. I’ll make you something to eat. Then we’ll talk through your plan for the dresses. I’m sure you’re feeling overwhelmed. Maybe we can just help you put a list together or something. But sometimes it just helps to talk it through.”

I open my mouth to protest, then close it. That all sounds really nice. And it’s a plan .

I haven’t had one of those in a couple of days.

I know I’ll feel better after a shower. And I genuinely don't remember the last time I ate. Also, I do need to talk through my plan. It also occurs to me that tomorrow, I have a few errands I need to do. I need to run to pick up some more thread and silk. But if I call ahead to the fabric store, Gillian, who knows me well, could pull those items out and one of the guys would be happy to pick them up for me.

I take a deep breath. “Okay?—”

My front door bursts open just then and I scream and turn toward it.

There’s a huge, wild-eyed, hockey player standing there.

“Blake!”

“Jesus Christ, Elise.” He stomps toward me and wraps his huge arms around me, picking me up off the floor before I have a chance to protest that I don’t look or smell very good. “I was so worried.”

I hug him back, hoping that will make him put me down. But he holds me for several long seconds.

“Blake,” Simon finally says. “You need to let her go. She really wants to take a shower.”

Blake pulls back to look into my face. “Are you okay?”

I nod, not opening my mouth for fear of breathing horrible breath on him.

“She got caught up in her new dress orders and lost track of time,” Aidan fills in.

I feel Blake relax under me. “Thank God.”

I blink. He’s glad ?

He puts me down. “Fuck, girl.” He runs a hand over my head and then down my back. “I was so fucking scared. I looked up and you weren’t in the stands. I thought you were just running late. But then later I looked up and these guys were gone. And then they were gone for way longer than a concession stand run and I started to freak out.”

I swallow hard. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He finally looks around, taking in Simon and Aidan, and then the apartment. “It’s okay. You’ve got a lot going on. I was just worried.”

“Wait, how are you here?” Aidan asks. “The game’s not over, is it?”

“No. I…” He blows out a breath and gives me a sheepish look. “I left.”

“You left ?” Simon asks.

I stare up at Blake. Oh, my God. I made such a mess here.

“I was benched,” Blake explains. “I was playing like shit. They scored on me twice, so they pulled me. I figured if I wasn’t going to help the team anyway, I could leave.” He cups my face. “I needed to get over here.”

“Oh my God, Blake.” I shake my head. “I’m so sorry. This is so bad. It’s all my fault.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “They’ll fine me but what are they gonna do? Fire me?” He gives me a half smile that actually makes my stomach swoop a little. “I needed to be sure you were okay. It’s just a game.”

“But… you should have cal…” Then I realize that he probably tried. Fuck . The fact that I can’t keep track of my phone is a huge problem. I have to get my shit together!

But he turns a frown on Aidan and Simon. “I would have just called, but I don’t have your numbers,” he tells the guys. “We need to fix that.”

They both nod. “We do. We all need each other’s numbers.”

I look from one man to the next to the next. They’re going to exchange numbers. So they can keep in touch. About me. I mean, maybe other things too, but I’m the reason they’re including Blake.

That makes me feel… good. Cared for.

“Shower,” Aidan tells me, his voice firm but gentle. “We’ll get food and talk.”

Talk. Right. They’ll help me make a plan. That’s what I need.

I look at them all again. They’re here. Because they were worried. Because they care.

Maybe I don’t need a plan. Or a shower or food.

Maybe I just need them.

Blake turns me and nudges me toward the bathroom door. “Go. You need help washing your hair or anything?”

I look up at him, trying to gauge if he’s being flirty. But I think he’s actually really just asking. I shake my head. “No. I’m just a mess, not injured.”

“I’ll grab you some clean clothes and put them on the counter,” he says, nudging me again.

So I decide to just do this—focus on one thing at a time. Let the guys tell me what the next step is. That alone is a relief, to be honest. To just not have to make big decisions. Just one step at a time.

I take my time in the shower. I just stand under the warm spray for several minutes doing nothing else. I try to quiet my mind.

When I get out, I pull on the sweatpants and hoodie Blake laid out for me. He even added underwear. But no bra. Which is so great. I hate wearing bras at home.

I pull my hair up on top of my head, not bothering to dry it.

I don’t even put moisturizer on.

I do brush my teeth though.

Then I take a breath before heading out to the living room.

If they cleaned up, straightened the room up for me, I will be appreciative. I will not freak out. It’s fine. I’ll find everything again. They don’t know that if I don’t put something away or move something, it makes it ten times harder to find. They’ll have done it to help. I have to remember that and not get frustrated.

But when I step into the living room, it seems nothing has been moved at all.

It’s still a disaster. But I can see where all eight partial dresses are. I know where my sketch pad is. I know where my scissors are.

I breathe out.

Aidan is in the kitchen and I can smell the grilled cheese sandwiches he’s making. My stomach growls and I feel the tension leave my body.

Blake is sitting on the floor, propped up against one section of the wall. Simon is perched on the arm of the couch. Even the cushion that’s usually clear is covered at the moment.

They stop talking when they see me.

Simon comes to his feet. “Better, love?”

I nod and go to him. “Much.”

He pulls me into his arms and hugs me. “Good.”

Over the next hour, we all eat. Blake places an order to have more bread and cheese delivered, since he eats four sandwiches himself. He adds several other things to the order and says, “Don’t be fucking ridiculous,” when I offer to pay him back.

When the order arrives, I’m delighted to find he included ice cream.

They also help me organize my projects.

I’m amazed at how they do it.

They simply ask questions. And then play the part of human clothing racks.

Blake holds project one in his right hand, two in his left.

Aidan takes project three and four.

Simon five and six.

Seven and eight are spread out on the couch.

They even let me scotch tape my sketches to their shirts and slacks so I can match my ideas up with the material.

Blake ends up with a hat on his head and a scarf around his neck.

Aidan lets me try five different purses with one of the pieces of fabric he’s holding.

Simon wears a fascinator hat and a belt, which should be ridiculous but actually only proves the man looks good in anything.

The ideas are so much clearer to me now. Seeing them all displayed like this allows me to visualize them, move things around, and get a better idea of what needs to happen first and what can wait.

They also ask me questions. They make me think through how long things will take, what my customers’ expectations are, ways I can be more efficient.

And Simon records it all on his phone so I can listen to it later and remember the plan.

When I’ve got it all worked out, they help me hang everything up in an organized fashion around my dining table.

I even end up letting Simon buy me a clothing rack to keep in that area of the apartment. It really will be so much easier to keep things organized.

And then…I move everything off my couch, making organized piles on my dining room chairs, and we all collapse together on my couch for the first time, the three guys side by side and me with my head in Simon’s lap, my ass in Aidan’s, and my feet in Blake’s.

Blake starts rubbing my feet, Aidan’s hand splays over my stomach, and Simon starts playing with my hair.

And I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.

“So,” I say, looking down the length of the couch at Blake. “How was the game?”

“Good,” he says. “Until I got distracted.”

I grimace. That was a silly question. “I am really sorry. Good thing this will be over after your grandmother gives you the cabin.”

He squeezes my foot harder. “Good thing?”

“You can’t have a real girlfriend who’s going to be a distraction like that. What if the team had lost?” We’d pulled the final score up and the Racketeers had pulled out the win even without Blake. We hadn’t listened in on the press conference to see what, if anything, was being said about his poor third period. “But for now, while you’re stuck with me, I’m really sorry and I’ll…work on keeping my phone nearby.” But I frown as I say it. My intentions are always good. I don’t mean to misplace things. I don’t know if there’s a better solution.

“What if you had a landline installed?” Aidan asks. “You’d only give the number out to certain people so it wouldn’t ring all the time, but if it’s mounted on the wall in here, you couldn’t misplace it and you’d have a number anyone could call if they really needed you.”

I look at him and smile. “That’s a good idea. Do they still install landlines?”

“I’ll get you one,” Simon says immediately. “Tomorrow.”

“Elise.”

I look at Blake. “Yeah?”

His voice is husky when he says, “I don’t feel stuck with you.”

My heart squeezes and I smile.

“And now that I have Aidan and Simon’s numbers, and we can all get a hold of each other—” Blake looks at the other men. “I mean the benefit of there being three of us is that someone can always get to you.”

My independent, don’t-need-anyone ass immediately thinks, “That’s ridiculous.” But the part of me that’s falling for these men, my heart , really likes that.

And then my stupid brain reminds me that all of this is temporary.

Blake only needs all of this until he gets the cabin. Simon will be going back to London. So no, they won’t be able to ‘get to me’.

But, on the bright side, I also won’t be driving them crazy by losing track of time and missing dates.