Page 17 of Love Like This

They exchanged a fist bump and headed to Gia’s Jeep on a sleepy,loopy, fantastic high from the historical night they’d just experienced.

When she arrived home, Hadley dropped into bed with a thump,falling asleep with a smile on her face almost instantly. When she woke upsometime close to lunch, there was a message on her phone from Spencer Adair,which sent a pleasant flutter to her stomach:I’vedecided to revamp the line. And though this is hard to admit, I welcome yourhelp. I probably need it.

Hadley sat up and grinned at her phone.

To newbeginnings indeed.

Chapter Four

Spencer hurried up Rodeo Drive on foot, carrying a series ofgarment bags on her shoulder. The paid parking lot where she’d left her car wasa decent hike from Silhouette, and she was regretting the low heels she’dchosen to wear. Who was she trying to impress anyway? The store would beclosed, and it would just be her and Hadley getting together for an initialwork session. She checked out her reflection in the mirror, satisfied with hersubtle makeup and the low twist she’d worked her hair into. And then swore atherself for being a stupid idiot.

She texted Hadley when she arrived outside the store, as they’dplanned, and it was only a matter of moments before she arrived at the door,unlocked it with an energetic wave, and let Spencer inside.

“Hey there,” Hadley said, beaming. “Come in! Come in! I hope youhad a fantastic day.”

“It was decent enough.”

“Decent falls in the win column.” She gestured behind her. “We caneither work in my office, though it’s sort of small, or on the second levelaround the couches, which are likely more comfortable.”

“Couches and comfort sound good,” Spencer said easily. She took inthe boutique as they moved through the space, always intrigued when she got tostep behind the scenes and see the inner workings of fashion. Silhouette, allclosed up for the night, was dark and cozy, the clothes waiting patiently forthe next day’s wave of customers to look them over. There was a magical qualitythere that inspired a shiver to dance delicately across Spencer’s skin. Shesmiled at the goose bumps.

“What’s got that faraway look in your eye?” Hadley asked.

She hesitated, searching for a substitute answer, but changed hermind when she saw the warm expression on Hadley’s face. She did something thatshe never did, and let Hadley in. “I get a kick out of stores after hours.Weird, maybe.” She shrugged. “There’s something mysterious and inspiring aboutthem. Romanticism at work. Gets my fur up. It’s dumb. Ignore me.”

Hadley stared at her for an extra beat, as if something she’d saidhad struck a chord. “I don’t know that I’ll ever look at this place the sameway again. I love that,” she said softly, and Spencer allowed herself to takein how truly blue Hadley’s eyes were. The fancy descriptors for blueeyes—azure, cobalt, sapphire—didn’t work here, as Hadley’s eyes were the truestform of blue she’d seen. To call them anything else would detract from theirpurity. “You have pretty eyes,” she heard herself say. Apparently, Hadleyconjured up extreme honesty.

“Me?” Hadley asked, her eyebrows shot up. Her cheeks showed aglimpse of pink.

“You,” Spencer said calmly, wondering why she’d again felt theneed to share her thoughts so openly. She settled on the fact that Hadleyseemed so nonthreatening, so warm, that there was very little to guard against.The quality was refreshing and alarming at the same time. She made a promise toherself not to sign over her bank account or anything parallel during theirtime together.

“Thanks. That’s really sweet of you to say.” They stood there amoment, neither of them saying anything until it all felt awkward.

“Should we get started?” Spencer asked. “I figured we could usetonight for discussion. Go through each piece and toss around ideas, revampingfor Silhouette and its needs.”

“That sounds great. Can I interest you in some water or wine? Wehave both.”

“Biblical,” Spencer said with a laugh as she unzipped the firstgarment bag. She took out one of her favorite pieces, a boxy navy jacket thatscreamed of androgyny. “You really have wine?”

“We do.” Hadley crossed to what appeared to be a refrigeratornestled around the corner. “Champagne, too, if you’re feeling fancy. On handfor our important guests.”

“What? And that’s me?” Spencer asked, with a wry laugh.

“Of course. Red, white, or bubbly?”

“Always red. I’m too serious for anything else.”

Hadley studied her. “You say that with conviction.”

“Wine isn’t something I take lightly.”

Hadley laughed. “I’m learning more about you each time we meet.”

“And?” Spencer raised a playful eyebrow. “What’s the takeaway? Doyou find me at least a little bit fascinating?” She held her thumb andforefinger close together.

“I do. You’re confident. Very confident.”

“Overlyconfident.” Spencer chuckled in recognition of her own Achilles’ heel. “Oftento my detriment. Just ask my design instructors who adjusted my As to Bsbecause I was hardheaded.”

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