The Dress Shop on King Street by Ashley Clark

Author:Ashley Clark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction;FIC042100;FIC042040;FIC074000
ISBN: 9781493428281
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2020-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SEVEN

Charleston, Modern Day

Harper lined the two fabrics together at the seams—one a true vintage, daisy print, and one a new lining. Lucy had brought Harper’s sewing machine over from Savannah last week, and the cool metal of the machine warmed her heart with the comfort of familiarity. She ran the fabrics through the vintage machine, careful that the blending of the two different fabrics didn’t cause any puckering.

Lucy had asked about the rest of her furniture, but Harper told her she planned to drive over in a couple of weeks and sell it to other SCAD students.

The front door to the storefront creaked open.

Harper released the pedal of the machine but kept her hold on the fabric. Peter stepped inside. She straightened the thick headband that tamed her curls and offered a smile.

He rubbed his five o’clock shadow and slipped both hands into his pockets. Then he looked down to the stacks of boxes and gestured toward one with his loafer. “What are these?”

Harper cleared her throat. In retrospect, she probably shouldn’t have taken the liberty to pile them like a fortress around the repair supplies he was using to get the storefront ready. But those suckers were heavy.

“Shoes.”

Peter pulled his glasses from the bridge of his nose and wiped them with the hem of his sweater.

“I’ll move them.” Harper filled the silence.

“Nonsense. I’ll do it.” He reached for one of the boxes. “So, shoes, huh? Your own or for the store?”

“Very funny.” Harper rolled her eyes but grinned.

“Is the whole business owner thing starting to sink in? Or does it seem surreal?”

More surreal than you can imagine, considering there was no actual plan to run a real store until Millie’s sudden announcement.

Harper finished the row of stitches, then loosened her grip of the fabric.

“It hasn’t sunk in.” She shook her head. “But then again, it’s not my dress shop. It’s Millie’s.”

Peter crossed his arms. He took one step closer, toward the sewing machine. “Seems like a cop-out to me.”

Harper just stared at him.

“Why are you being so evasive?” he asked.

“I’m not . . .” Harper ran her turquoise necklace back and forth along her collar. Peter was not going to let this go, was he? She didn’t break eye contact. “I’ve been disappointed before.”

He waited for her to continue, unflinching.

She fought a compulsion to fill the silence. She lost. “I came here with the intention of helping Millie. Not running the dress store.”

“And yet here you are, repairing an old . . . whatever that thing is.” Peter pushed a couple of the boxes closer to the brick wall. “This is about your stupid professor, isn’t it?”

“The piece is fine. The sort of thing I could get from any Anthropologie.”

The words echoed from the empty chamber of her heart once filled by her dream.

Before she could say anything, he continued. “What if she was wrong, Harper? Have you considered that? You’re going to allow her words to keep you from following a career that matters to you?”

Harper fiddled with her earrings.

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