Page 29 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
“Oh, honey. Something happened to it? I’m so sorry.” She whispered back, her voice sounding as sad as mine.
We both stayed silent. I knew she was waiting for me to speak first.
“It’s been on borrowed time for years, but I guess part of me thought it would go on forever.” I caressed the machine.
“I know. Can I do anything for you?”
“Not right now. I have to go to work tonight, but maybe this weekend you can help me photograph the pieces I’ve done. I’ll figure out a way to work at the shop to finish a few more. I should be getting the bonus any day now, and I can use that to buy a new machine.” I’d hoped to use it to buy fabric and still could, but not the high-end expensive stuff I’d had my eyes on.
Scaling up the business would take a little longer than I liked. At this point, I was devoting all my free time to starting my company. It’s not like I had a personal life that would suffer anyway.
Dean was an unattainable fantasy. I didn’t have time for a boyfriend, even one that was all in my head. I needed to stay focused.
My business was the one thing that would get me out from under my stepmother’s control. Beyond that, it would allow Burda to retire, and if Stella wanted to step away, she could work with me too.
I looked back at my machine. Losing it felt like a piece of my heart had shattered. An unbidden thought slammed into me, one I hadn’t been ready to acknowledge or let see the light of day. If I was this destroyed over losing my mother’s sewing machine, would I have the strength to completely walk away from the boutique that had once been hers?
***
IMOVED THROUGH THEhalls of Prince Industries, waving to the people who I’d met over the past week. The job had become pretty routine and an easy way to make extra money. Besides seeing the guy I had a one-night stand with, this job had no stress at all—the complete opposite of my day job. And if the last week was any indication, I was probably not going to run into Dean Prince again.
Not that he’d recognize me.
That thought irritated me more than it should. I’d been avoiding contact, but I recognized him almost instantly despite our limited interaction. I knew I looked different, but really? Nothing? He rocked my world that night. I’d thought it had been the same for him.
Now I was glad I’d gotten cold feet and ran.
I’d woken up before he did. After staring at him for a while trying to decide what to do, I finally gathered my clothes and got dressed. When I heard him wake up, I panicked. Not wanting an awkward morning after, not really knowing how to deal with it, I left.
I still hadn’t found my underwear at that point and had to cut my losses. I’d been pissed at myself for having to leave them behind. They had been the springboard to my business idea, and I bet he’d just thrown them out.
I pushed my cart closer, noticing the light was on in his office for the first time in a week. My heart beat faster, wondering if that meant he was in.
“Calm down,” I whispered. “You’re being irrational.” My silly heart refused to listen, and the pounding in my ears became louder the nearer I got to his door. My fight-or-flight response engaged, and it was screaming at me to run in the other direction.
I stood outside his door, looking left and right, making sure no one else was around to witness me acting so weird. Not noticing anyone, I inched closer to his office and leaned in just so one eye could peer through the open door. Inside, his dark head of hair was bent over while he worked at his desk.
My breath caught. God, even his hair was gorgeous. It really wasn’t fair.
His head lifted, and I scooted out of the way just in time. I leaned against my cart to gather my courage. I had to go in there. I had a job to do. Using my cart as my shield, I shoved that into the room, ignoring the squeak of protest from its wheels.
“Hello, Mr. Prince,” I said, a big smile pasted on my face.
He looked at me and smiled back. “Hello, it’s nice to see you again.”
“Mm-hm.” I decided I would pretend our first meeting never happened. If he said anything specific about it, I’d respond with something vague and noncommittal. I’d clean quickly and race right out of there.
I started cleaning in the farthest spot from him. The coffee table probably hadn’t done anything wrong, but from the fast and furious swipes I gave it, anyone watching me would think I was angry at it. Then I grabbed the vacuum and plugged it in, getting ready to drown him out with the noise.
“You know, I hoped to see you again before now,” he said casually.
How could he be so relaxed when my heart was ready to beat out of my chest? I wished I hadn’t forgotten my earbuds today. The music would’ve been a good excuse to ignore him. “Really? Is there something you need replaced, sir?”
He chuckled. “No, not exactly. I just thought our first meeting was rather unusual.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My cheeks heated and the same fire raced up to the tips of my ears at my blatant lie. In times like this, my fair skin was a curse. The more I thought about blushing, the worse it became.
I grabbed his trash, tied it up, and tossed it into the larger bag on my cart. I inserted a fresh one to replace it in record time.
