Page 30 of Partnering with the Artist

“Yeah, I know where Make-It is.”

Yeah, well, I know where the tea place is. But she still told me a useless road fact. What evenis“Main”? Central town Sunset is a grid pattern. Everything’s numbered until you hitMain. Main should have been a number. It’s confusing.

(And stupid.)

“How much did all of this cost?” she asks, perusing my new collection of toys. “This isnicestuff.”

“One thousand four dollars and twenty-three cents.”

She chokes. “What?Is that coming out of your paycheck?”

“I don’t have a paycheck. Zakery pays me in cash.” At the end of each day no less. He puts my money in an envelope, thanks me, and sends me off to find Morana so we can head home for dinner. (Where she regales me on the glories of how the Bachelor household has amopwith abucketthat is asalad spinnerfor the mop head.)

((The first time she couldn’t shut up about it, I asked her when the wedding to her mop would be.))

(((She said I just did not understand her love after Helenaforced her to clean ballrooms with this ratty thing she had to hand squeeze.)))

Morana has been talking.

Oops.

“What did you say?” I ask.

“If this isn’t coming out of yourcash, what does Zakery expect you todowith all of it? It’s work-related, right? Your closet isn’t big enough for all the clothes you could make. Heck, yourroomisn’t big enough to even hold all of this.” She throws a hand toward the bed, also covered in fun things. “I’d ask where you slept last night, but I think I already figured that part out.”

Puckering my lips, I continue adding the layer of tulle to the inside of my skirt. I love flouncy clothes. After this, I’ll add the final lining, then I’ll spend the rest of the day hand-sewing on details.

Oh. Yeah. Also, maybe I’ll eat.

Maybe.

I might forget.

(I will absolutely forget.)

“Maelin, did you hear me that time?”

“Mmhm.” I focus on the whir of my lovely sewing machine. It’s such a good girl. Making me all sorts of pretties.

Ooh. I’ve just decided. My ball gown outfit needs gloves. Long, classy, satin gloves. Maybe Zakery can also wear gloves with his outfit. If we’re going as a couple, we’ll have to match.

I need to make his outfit.

I freeze when that thought hits me.

What have I been doing with my brain cells if this very obvious thing is only hitting menow?

Obviously, if we want to perfectly match, I need to make his outfit, too.

I’m an idiot.

Anidiot.

I need to tell Zakery and get him measured and figure out a design… I can sketch options for him to pick from. Once I finish adding the tulle layer, I twist. Where’s my sketchbook? I need my sketchbook.

“You are impossible to talk to when you’re sewing,” Morana says.

I blink up at her. “Were you talking to me again?”

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