Page 6 of Crossing Lines

“I’m a fashion designer,” she replies with unmistakable joy in her mahogany eyes.

“That’s what’s up.”

“Mostly dresses, but I do other fits here and there.” She picks at her dress, adding, “I created this with the founder and creative director, Chavonne La Monte.”

“Damn, girl.” I take in her stylish attire again, liking how it flatters her frame. “It looks dope. You’re wearing the hell out of it.”

“Thank you.” She touches her neck modestly.

I’m curious to learn more. “How long have you been designing?”

“For as long as I can remember. I’ve been atLa Montefor over seven years, though. Chavonne hired me fresh out of fashion school. Today, she agreed to allow me to launch a line. I’m sort of here celebrating.”

The magnitude of delight emitting from her is so entrancing. “Okay, Queen. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she giggles. “So, this your only club?”

“Yeah. I was initially nervous, but the location is perfect, and not many clubs here have different themes every night.”

“That is a great idea,” she applauds. “It offers something for everybody. I’m looking forward to Dancehall night on Wednesday. My cousin will like it.”

“Nice. Will your man be with you next time?”

I catch a speck of uncertainty in her gaze before she cuts to her drink. “Probably.”

“I’m here!” Iree announces from the stairs in dark green sparkly tights, a matching halter top, a black blazer, and high heels. She crumples her brows when she sees Davia. “Oh, hey, D. You made it.” She seems surprised, continuing over for anembrace. “Congrats, Kross. The place looks so good. You did your thing.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“The jewelry department had you working late,” Davia remarks, eyeing Iree’s outfit.

“Yeah, but I love sorting pieces, so.” She passes a look between us and refocuses on Davia. “Didn’t think you’d be here. You said you had plans with your man.”

“He had work,” she replies. “Figured I’d check out the club.” He’s definitely slipping. She clearly wanted to celebrate tonight.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Hm.” Davia regards her attire again. “Nice outfit.”

Reverting to the innocent tactic used on us over the years, Iree pastes on a puppy look and tucks her bob behind her ears. “I thought I could wear this tonight and put it back in the drafts closet.”

“Keep it,” Davia insists. “Just don’t tell anyone it’sLa Montesince Chavonne turned it down.”

Iree bounces happily and touches her shoulder. “Thanks, D.”

“Sis!” Cairo calls out. “Come try these bomb wings!”

She flashes us another look before walking to her brother’s table.

“Is it really cool?” I check with Davia. “Iree’s spoiled and has a way of getting what she wants.”

“It’s fine,” she assures me. “She can keep it.”

“Okay. You want to eat?”

She shakes her head. “I had dinner before coming. I’ll try something next time since you have plant-based options, which aren’t always available for me.”

“You’re vegan?”

---