Page 17 of A Midnight Kiss on Ever After Street
‘But this is… trashy. No one normal would wear this in a million years. It isn’t appealing, and it has no business being associated with a shop on Ever After Street. We’re a shop that makes wedding dresses and kits out teenagers for proms. Small children used to stand and stare at princess dresses in our window. If it gets out that we’re making things like this, we’ll probably be banned for being non-child-friendly. This is a walking wardrobe malfunction.’
‘It’s a walking wardrobe malfunction that’s paying good money. I don’t see you out there dragging in new clients and we need all the new clients we can get. We’re going under, Sadie, you know it as well as I do. Gone are the days when we could lackadaisically sew anything we fancied and put pretty floaty dresses in the window and people flocked from miles around to see our perfect creations. We makeanythingwe get paid to make – your opinion of it is irrelevant.’
I go to protest but she pats my other cheek, somehow managing to out-do herself on the patronising front. ‘One day this will all be yours and you can run it however you want. Until then, you listen to the experienced businesswoman who works her fingers to the bone to bring in prestigious new clients and knows the ins and outs of profit and loss.’
I glance at her fingers – freshly manicured in Finland, by the looks of it. ‘You sew it then.’
‘You’re the seamstress, not me. We’ve always agreed to work to our strengths, haven’t we? Sewing is yours, dealing with clients on the shop floor is Scarlett’s, and Ithrivein the world of business and celebrity. Let’s not deviate from our particular lanes, hmm?’
This is all wrong. It’s all gone so wrong. My mum and dad would be mortified if they saw the kind of clothing we make now. I glance down at the sketch again. While lingerie has its place, The Cinderella Shop isn’t it. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look sexy for a partner, but we make dresses for people to wear on days of their dreams, not tentacle-laden catsuits that barely cover the wearer’s modesty.
Half an hour ago, I was a princess, dancing with an incredible man and feeling like the world was at my feet. Now, I feel lower than a rat crawling around the gutter. Useless and ineffectual, like I have no say over my own life and what happens in it. And something has to change.
Meeting him has buoyed my confidence. Some chances are worth taking. If I hadn't been brave enough to go tonight, I would never have met him. Magic still exists in the world if you have the courage to look for it.
He's made me feel like anything is possible.
Maybe he's not the only good thing that can happen tonight. ‘Ebony, I've been thinking…’
She sighs, as though me thinking always ends badly.
‘I don’t want to do this any more. We’re going underbecauseof clothing like this.’ I tap the paper on the counter. ‘We’ve lost who we are. People don’t come in because the clothes in the window are off-putting. They don’t appeal to your average person. And they’re too expensive. We don’t need exclusive clients who’ll pay hundreds of pounds for a dress – we need normal people who’ll pay what they can afford for a special occasion. The cost of living is going up and people can’t afford—’
‘Which is exactly why I target the rich and famous whocanafford your beautiful dresses.’
‘No. This is the opposite of what my mum wanted when she started the shop. She wanted to make people happy, she—’
‘—was in huge debt when I took over, you know that. That’s what happens to people whose business model is “making people happy”. Happiness doesn’t pay the bills.’
‘Neither does clothing like this.’ I wave the sketch about in front of her, trying not to let the frustration turn into an emotional outburst. My mum’s legacy is being trampled all over and it’s her own sister who’s doing the trampling and she refuses to listen. ‘People laugh at us. Instead of Cinderella, our clothing is better suited to the Ugly Sisters. It’s time to change. I’m old enough now. More than old enough.’ I think of his eyes. The strength in his voice when he said that about valuing me and it gives me the courage to continue. ‘I want to take over The Cinderella Shop. Now. Not in some unknown number of years’ time when you “deem me ready”. Now. Today.’
She laughs. ‘I’ve had a long day, Sadie. I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Well, I do. There will never be a time that you don’t find inconvenient to talk about what’s happening here. This stupid guarantee of finding love or getting your money back needs to go. I’m spending hundreds on fabric and hours of my time to make dresses that people can wear for one night and then return for a full refund, which then sit out the back on rails and do nothing. No wonder we’re operating at a loss. Something needs to cha—’
‘What’s got into you tonight?’
His eyes. His smile. The strength in his words. The way I felt, spinning around with his huge hands on my body, the feeling of being safe and protected from all bad things… I don’t need to be protected by some handsome definitely-not-prince, but it made me realise there are not-good things in my life and I’m the only one with the power to change them. ‘I can save this shop. I know I can, but not if you don’t let me.’
‘Oh, you are dramatic, Sadie. We’ve been over this. You’re a seamstress, like your mother, and while your talent is appreciated, you don’t know the slightest thing about running a business. There’s far more to this job than sewing. You’ll be out of your depth within a week. The moment you show me that you can do something spectacular on a marketing and business management level, the shop will be yours. In the meantime, we don’t let clients down, andthisclient has orderedthisoutfit, so chop chop, hmm? Don’t expect me in tomorrow; I need a couple of days off to recover from the arduous travelling. Goodnight!’
‘Ebony!’ I call after her but the reply is the rev of the engine as she starts her car and whizzes away, clearly thinking that the ‘no cars’ rule applies to everyone other than her.
I sigh. I really thought tonight would be the night she’d listen to me. Her ideas on how this shop should be run are the exact thing that’s pulling us down, and if she’d just swallow enough pride to listen… Tears threaten again and I force them down. I don’t want to end this night by crying. Maybe it was the wrong time to broach the subject. Maybe I went in too hard. Maybe I had too much courage. Or maybe she’s right. Idon’tknow the first thing about running a shop from the business side of things. If she did sign this place over to me, Iwouldbe out of my depth.
And yet, I want it more than anything. Apart from Scarlett, there are people I could get to help me – accountants and other business types who do know stuff about running businesses. Ebony insists on chasing high-profile celebrity clients, but I just want to make dresses that ordinary people can wear for special occasions. Dresses that make people feel like I felt tonight. It’s magic to put on a dress that makes you feel like a princess – that makes someone you love look at you as though you’re the only person to have ever existed. I want to do that for normal people. Not make lingerie for Z-list celebs whose only claim to fame is an inability to wear clothes thatdon’tflash their bits.
I gather up Ebony’s sketches and pick up my mask, the shoe, and the rose from the back room and trudge up to the flat. Ishouldstart work on the catsuit, but I don’t want to sully my mum’s gorgeous vintage Singer sewing machine with it; I only sew special dresses on that, so I’ll do it downstairs when Scarlett’s covering the shop tomorrow.
I put the mask and my one remaining shoe into a drawer beside my bed, and fill a slim vase with water for the rose and place it on the bedroom window ledge and sit down beside it. I lean my head against the window and look towards the castle again. It’s illuminated tonight, like a glowing haven within the mountain, and when I open the window just a little, faint snatches of music filter down from the hillside.
My mind drifts to Prince Charming again. Is he still there? Did my speedy exit ruin his night too? I sit with the window open and let tonight replay in my mind. The most magical moment of my life, cut short by sensible, boring reality.
I trace my fingers over the red petals of the rose he gave me. You never know, maybe it’ll turn out to be enchanted after all and I’ll find him again before the last petal falls.
6
‘Mum was well wound-up when she came home last night, and not about the delayed flight.’ Scarlett’s rearranging shoes on the display stands in the shop. ‘What on earth did you say to her?’
