Page 36 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
“It still exists, but it won’t ever be mine. I had this feeling, you know, in here.” She tapped on her chest. “That she would be proud of me going after my dream.”
I stayed silent. My problems seemed small in comparison.
“I can’t have a store without money to back me up. I can’t get investors without experience to show them I know what I’m doing, so I thought, just go for it, right?”
I nodded. Her perseverance resonated with me.
“Instead of the storefront I’d dreamed of, I’d move it all online and fulfill custom orders.”
“That sounds like a solid idea.”
“Yeah, until the sewing machine I use broke.” Her head slowly dropped until her chin lay parallel to her chest. “That machine was my mom’s. It’s one of the few things I have left of hers.”
This time I did reach out and put my arm around her. “I’m so sorry.”
Under my hands, her shoulders lifted in a subtle shrug. “I think maybe the universe is trying to tell me something. Like maybe I should give up. That my idea isn’t any good.”
“What do you make?”
“Um,” her voice came out in a soft whisper. “Full-figured and plus-sized lingerie.”
“Ah.” Now I understood her hesitation. She seemed embarrassed to admit it to me.
“Are you any good?”
Her head whipped up; and confidence rang with each word. “Yes, my products are on brand with what the market is looking for, and I’ve already sold pieces. Just not enough to fund a business.”
Her fire had me believing in her idea, and I hadn’t seen anything yet. “Then what makes your products different from any other company?”
The smile that lit her face was something I wish I could capture and bottle; it was brilliant. “I want women of all sizes to feel confident. So to reinforce that, I have empowering or uplifting messages sewn into each piece.”
My thoughts went to the pair of panties my mystery lady had left behind. “And you’re sure no one else does that?”
“No, not that I know of. I’ve researched it like crazy.”
Interesting.My mystery woman and Ashlyn had something so bizarre, so small in common.
My mind began wheeling. “Are you working tomorrow night?”
“Yes.” Her answer was hesitant.
“Do you have a business plan?”
“Of course,” she sounded offended that I’d even think she wouldn’t.
The plan had formulated before I had time to think if it was a good idea or not. At this point, I didn’t care. She’d listened to me. I needed to do something for her. “Bring your proposal and a few examples with you tomorrow night. I can read through it and see if I can help you come up with ideas to sell more products or perhaps come up with a list of possible investors I know.”
“Are you serious right now?” Her breath hitched at the end of her sentence.
“Absolutely.”
Hope danced in her eyes. “Dean, I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m not making any promises. Just offering to look it over.” I wanted her to have a realistic expectation established. Many people thought they had a good product on their hands when they really didn’t.
“I know. I get that. But having you take a look and offer me advice is—” She let out a huge breath. “It’s more than I could’ve asked for.”
Excitement radiated from her face, and the thought of kissing her crossed my mind. I leaned in closer before I caught myself.
