Page 2 of Sew Matcha in Love
“Well, not when it’s important. You never once canceled on my girls. They miss you now that they’re both in school.”
“I miss them, too. Being an au pair suited me.”
Shanna snorted again. “You even have a way of making nannying sound glamorous. Besides, you’re from here, and you always went home each night, so technically you can’t be an au pair.”
I rewarded her with an exaggerated pinched face.
She grinned and didn’t miss a beat. “But back to the fact that you’re here, sitting on my shiny new stool. Didn’t you say you’d be setting Wednesday afternoons aside for cleaning wedding gowns?”
“They are,” I said, my thoughts briefly going to Wynnie’s Wedding Dress Library, a gown rental side business I’d curated in my climate-controlled garage. It was a sub-business of Wynsome Designs, my made-to-order historical costume line. “But Tasha said she’d help me next Wednesday if I met her here today.” I’d taken in three new dresses over the holidays, and they needed to be cleaned and mended and sorted.
“Sounds like a plan.” She tipped her chin up. “Your usual?”
“You know it.”
As she made my Straw-Berry Dreamy soda, the door chimed. I swiveled in my stool, expecting to see Tasha, but instead, two little girls giggled their way in, poufy sparkly princess dresses swishing under their peacoats. Two auburn braids and a single blond plait peeked out from underneath pom-pommed tams, similar to the one on my own head.
“Girls! No running!” The woman who accompanied them had a French accent, which caught my attention.
“Sorry, Auntie!” they chorused in perfect English, racing straight toward the stools to the right of me.
I lifted my gaze to their frazzled aunt, offering a sympathetic smile before I turned back to Shanna. She set my soda onto a branded cork coaster and moved down the counter to welcome her new customers.
The bell over the door chimed again, and this time it was Tasha.
“Mrs. Ridgie!” The blond ran toward her, the redhead close at her heels. “Can you babysit us when Auntie Sofi goes back to Canada?”
Our eyes connected briefly. Mrs. Ridgie? Tasha’s husband, Monty, was the mascot for the Edge, the NHL team in Denver.
“Isla! Amelie! So great to see you.” She bent down. “Remember, Ridgie’s identity is a big secret.” She looked over at me and smiled, looking happy and healthy, her baby bump just starting to show.
“Oh!” Isla turned to me, distress on her delicate features. “I’m sorry!”
“It’s okay. Wynnie over there is my friend. She knows the secret.”
“He shouldn’t take his head off if he wants it to be a secret,” the redhead observed. “He should kiss you with the bear headon.”
Tasha laughed. “I’ll let him know, Amelie.” She stood. “Sofi! How lovely to run into you here!”
“Vraiment charmant. How lovely indeed!”
Tasha finally reached the counter and made the introductions. “Sofi, Amelie, Isla, these are my friends Arwyn Baughn and the owner of the Soda Shoppe, Shanna Lane. Wynnie, Sofi is Zaki Marsch’s sister, and these are his girls.”
I stiffened at the mention ofhim.
Zaki.
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “Are you girls wearing Elsa and Anna dresses?”
“Yes!” Amelie confirmed.“Frozenis our favorite!”
“I love it, too,” I replied.
“See, Sof, I told you she’d be perfect. Wynnie, aside from Penny’s Regency gown, I—we—have another ask. Zaki is taking the twins to a con in a couple weeks, and he needs a costume.”
“And all the Kristoff costumes are bad!” Amelie frowned. “None arereal.”
I narrowed my gaze, pretty sure of the ask that was coming.
