Page 55 of Darn Knit All

I stiffened, turning slowly to see that Michelle and Erike had approached our workstation while our backs were turned.

Oh, crap.

Just when I thought I had a handle on my panic, a new test arrived to send me spiraling once more.

I never realized I was a masochist.

Theo covered for me, easily sliding into the awkwardness.

“Gonna be honest,” he said with an “aw shucks” smile. “Mai’s the brains, talent and beauty behind this operation. I’m barely trained in the basics. But we’re here, we’re enthusiastic, and I’m open to learning.”

Michelle and Erike exchanged a loaded glance.

“What do you mean by ‘barely trained’?” Erike asked, crossing his arms.

My mouth opened to try and cover for Theo, but he beat me to the punch.

“Just that. Mai’s been teaching me for the last year, but progress is slow. But isn’t that the point of this show? To profile couples just trying to pursue a dream?”

Erike cocked an eyebrow as Michelle rushed to reassure us.

“Absolutely! All of our couples are in different stages of their fashion journey, and we welcome everyone—from beginner to master.”

“Don’t you feel guilty for depriving a more worthy pair of their dream?” Erike interrupted.

I swallowed, horrified that I may have disappointed my hero.

Theo stared him down, shifting to block me slightly. “No. Mai’s dream is valid, and she deserves this chance just as much as anyone else—more even. I might slow her down but I’m not here to hold her back.”

I stared up at Theo, watching as a muscle ticked in his jaw. His fierce protectiveness left me feeling warm and fuzzy.

“And on that note,” Michelle said hastily, “we should leave you both to finish.” She turned to the room at large. “Two hours left!”

The clock became our merciless overlord, a villain in our story. We finished the machine work and switched to hand stitching as the time counted down.

Theo and I worked well together, communicating openly and honestly when something wasn’t working. He surprised me with suggestions to problems I would never have even contemplated. We were becoming a well-oiled machine, even if one half of the machine was still learning which part was the bobbin and which was the feed dog.

“Your models have arrived,” Michelle called as women streamed into the design area.

As I’d predicted, the majority of the teams had chosen to build a dress that the model would need to fit, but for us—and one other team—we’d elected to design the dress for the model.

“Keeley and Jude,” Theo told me with a conspiratorial air. “I got the lowdown from one of the show runners. They’re tipped to take out the entire competition but we’re gonna give them a run for their money.”

While I appreciated his enthusiasm, I didn’t have time for small talk.

“Can you find a small silver chain?” I asked, showing him where I wanted it sewn. “It’s the last piece on the train. I need to finish the bodice.”

“On it.”

Our model arrived, a gorgeous woman whose proportions reminded me of Kate Winslet or Beatrix Bellinger.

“Wow,” she said, eyeing the dress. “This is incredible.”

I took a moment to critically eye our creation as a whole rather than the individual parts that still needed attention. She wasn’t wrong. The dress had flair and drama, with the bold fabric choices creating an edgy vibe that still presented as classical elegance thanks to the simple silhouette.

“I’m Sophia, by the way.”

I held out my hand. “Mai. Are you ready to try it on?”

---