Page 187 of Wanted Beta

“I’ve been starting to design dresses, but I’m a long way off from producing something that I could sell. I altered my friend’s wedding dress when she lost more weight than she expected and her dressmaker let her down. It was a lot of fun. I think I’d like to do more of that.”

“Oh … I have a nice idea for a business name for you.”

She raises an eyebrow. “A business name? I thought I’d just use my own name, if I ever got started doing this stuff for real.”

“You could do that, or you could call it Catherine Corrects, Alteration Specialist.”

She laughs. “Oh no. Oh God no. Isn’t that what Pearl and Maggie Jane used to call me whenever I told them they’d gotten something wrong? I remember the day you picked it up from them. It was mortifying.”

“That’s what makes it work. It’s a cute name with some history behind it.”

“Cute. Yeah, sure. Okay. Do you need dinner?”

“I do, but I might be able to get us something from that restaurant that doesn’t look like a restaurant. If you don’t mind waiting for me to make a call?”

“I’ve eaten anyway.”

“And you’ll try a slice of pizza, because a little bit of fat won’t kill you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Sure. Just don’t blame me if I end up eating more than that because you made me taste it.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

I fully intend to order two pizzas. I’m in the mood to stuff my face so if Catherine doesn’t eat much, I’ll just have to work my way through the rest alone. That’ll be such a hardship.

I call Jack’s number and he picks up in two rings.

“Beth! Hey, that was really fast. Can I assume your parents weren’t too mad at whatever you did?”

“They went home,” I admit. “I told them I wasn’t going with them. They didn’t like that too much, but they’ll get over it. Is Enzo busy right now?”

“You’re asking to speak to Enzo already? Am I that boring to talk to?”

He’s joking, and it makes me smile.

“You know you’re anything but boring. I was asking if Enzo was busy because I was going to be a little cheeky and ask him to make a couple of pizzas.”

“Oh … I think that could be arranged. Would I be invited inside if I delivered them?”

“That would be acceptable,” I tell him, wondering what Catherine will make of that.

“Perfect. I’ll be there in thirty minutes or less.”

“See you then.”

I hang up and go back into the living room.

“Pizza has been ordered,” I tell her, waving my phone before setting it down on the coffee table.

“I’ll grab my purse,” Catherine says, getting up.

“It’s not going to cost us anything.”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “What?”

“I’ve been hanging out with the guys who own the place.”

Her jaw drops. “You’ve been hanging out with them? Tell me that’s not slang for something sordid?”

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