Читать книгу Prom Ever After: Haute Date / Save the Last Dance / Prom and Circumstance - Caridad Ferrer, Earl Sewell - Страница 14

Seven

“Are you sure it’s around here?” Sebastian glanced at the GPS on his phone and the surrounding buildings. “I don’t see anything that looks big enough to be it.”

Ash ignored him as she surveyed the line of eccentric windowed storefronts dotting Pike Street off Broadway.

“There! I’ve passed by it a hundred times.” Ash gestured toward a familiar-looking window. “Park! Park!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sebastian expertly parallel parked his Mazda in front of the colorful doorway with a Some Like It Haute sign over it.

Ash had decided to act before her mother changed her mind. She remembered passing the cute little Capitol Hill storefront that boasted “Designer fabrics for those who can... Couture dressmaking for those who can’t!” on the front window many times on her little scooter. She was sure that with the promises of couture dressmaking the storefront made, a little alteration to the lehenga would be easy-breezy.

Gathering up Sebastian’s sketches, the tiny dress figurine and the garment bag containing the lehenga, Ash practically bounced out of the car, feeling very positive. Everything was going to work out fine. They’d come so far, it had to work out.

Ash giggled at the blush on Sebastian’s cheeks as he noticed what was right next to Some Like It Haute: Babeland, a bright pink-and-white storefront boasting “women-friendly pleasure goods!”

Cap Hill was the artsy, eclectic and fun neighbor to First Hill, Ash’s more subdued ’hood, and Some Like It Haute was no exception. It was practically bursting with bolts of beautiful embroidered fabric, ribbons, skeins of yarn and walls of sewing supplies, like a tiny, brightly colored dollhouse.

“Hello!” A familiar-looking girl about their age looked up as the entry bell dinged Ash and Sebastian’s arrival. “Oh, my God, I love that dress. What a cool print!”

Ash smiled her thanks. The pale yellow dress with the pink skulls-and-roses was her latest vintage store find and was totally unique. She had bought it for the Day of the Dead celebration Sebastian’s family had every year—where they honored those who had passed on.

“I want to steal this! God, look at this construction. Where was this made?” The girl leaned across the counter to get a closer look. “Not to be weird, but can I touch it?”

“Uh, sure.”

The girl wasted no time reaching behind Ash and grabbing the tag from the back of the dress. “It’s vintage! I knew it. No one makes good stuff anymore. We’re going to get along so well!”

“Uh, thanks.” Ash disentangled herself from the girl. Wow, she was enthusiastic. “I have a weird question,” she said as she dropped her pile of stuff on the counter.

The girl picked up the tiny dress figurine. “This is so cute. Did you make this? I’m Lyra Matthew, by the way. This is my shop. Well, it’s my mom’s shop, but I work here more, so I guess it’s more mine than hers.”

Lyra Matthew. The name was so familiar... Ash suddenly remembered where she knew Lyra from. “I know you! You were in Les Misérables last year. With Armstrong Jones?”

Lyra flashed a brilliant smile. She was very pretty. And wearing an amazing pale rose drop-waist dress with a feather fringe at the hem. Her eyes were done up all dark and smoky. She looked like a ’20s movie star. “Yup, I’d just moved up from L.A. and was really surprised the part of Eponine was still open. Armstrong’s cute, but kind of skinny, don’t you think?”

Ash remembered how beautifully Lyra sang. When she finished “A Little Fall of Rain” with a whisper as Eponine had “died” in the middle of the final act, thunderous applause had rung through the school auditorium.

“I’m Ash and this is Sebastian Diaz.” Ash gestured toward Seb, who looked uncomfortable.

Ash noticed Lyra flash her dazzling smile in his direction a second longer than normal, her giant dark eyes lighting up with recognition. Of course she knew Sebastian. Everyone did.

“We need some help.” Ash opened the garment bag and pulled out the lehenga. “This is my mother’s. We want to make modifications to this dress to make it look like this figurine.”

Lyra’s eyes widened. “That’s some beadwork. Where was it made?”

“India somewhere, I’m not sure. It’s my mom’s.”

“It’s gorgeous. Why do you want to change it?”

“Because it’s weird right now. Trust me.” Ash pushed the sketch and the figurine toward her, ignoring Lyra’s doubtful look. “I want to transform it and wear it to the prom.”

“Wow. That’s a great sketch!” A few moments of silence passed as the enthusiastic girl touched the fabric in various places, examining seams and sleeves and who knew what else. She glanced at the sketches and the figurine.

“This is complicated. Like, really complicated.” She tossed her waist-length curly black hair to one side and frowned. She turned the lehenga inside out and lay it flat. “Yes, this is very complex beadwork. See how each bead is hand-sewn to the fabric? If I cut into it, all the beads will scatter everywhere.”

Ash and Sebastian glanced at each other. This was not a good sign. Ash had been hoping she’d look at it once and say, “Oh, that’s straightforward. No problem. It’ll be done in an hour.”

“I think my mom and I can do it. She’s a costume designer for stage plays and things so she does beadwork a lot. I can do the bodice part. When do you need it by?”

“Two weeks.”

Lyra hesitated. Again, not a good sign.

“My mom’s really busy, but I can make her do it. It’s a good thing you came in today, though. We’re about to go into bridal season and there is no way we could have done it if you’d come in any later.”

Serendipity. It really was true.

Ash practically cried with relief. “Seriously, you have saved my life.” She turned back to grin at Sebastian, who didn’t look half as excited. She wondered why, but before she could ask, he stepped up to the counter.

“So...Lyra, how much is this going to cost? Because we do have a budget,” Sebastian spoke up.

Lyra searched his face, as if gauging how he was going to react.

“Usually we would charge around two hundred dollars for this kind of work—total transformation...”

That wasn’t bad! Ash thought. Surely she could talk Laila into two hundred dollars. That was just a little over the budget.

“...but because the beading is so complex and the fabric so complex, it’s going to be at least five hundred.” Lyra dished out the crushing blow.