I tell her, “If you avoided it up to now, keep it that way and save yourself the agony.”
“How about your virginity?”
“You making an offer? Poppy, you are full of surprises.” We both laugh.
She says, “All the chances I’ve had with men are so unappealing, though. I would think it over.”
I take a pull on the beer and pass the glass to Poppy to finish. “Shall we share another?”
“I won’t have any. I’m driving.”
I call for the check. While we’re waiting for Billy to come running, I tell her, “No, I made my mind up. All my life, I was told that virginity is precious. Now, I’m not so sure. I don’t really see what I need it for. But along the way, I discovered there isn’t a man on Earth worth giving it up for.”
“You don’t really mean that.”
“I really do.”
“You’re really a virgin?”
“Sure. Like I said… you’re not?”
“No. Well, half.”
“Oooh! Do tell.”
Billy is by the table, card reader in hand, glassy eyes wide.
She says, “Another time.”
In the car, Poppy is fuming about a customer. I know who it is right away. It’s a girl called Nora Bryghte with a mother trying to own her wedding for her. Huge budget, but no sense of urgency or of how much trouble she puts anyone to.
“Honestly. That girl.” Poor Poppy’s face is screwed up tight. “She changes her mind with every breath. She’s driving me insane.” Her hands grip tight on the wheel. “Trouble is, it’s a huge wedding. A massive order. I’ve got all the fabrics. Not just hers, but all of the bridesmaids. Everything.”
“What’s the problem?”
“She chooses a dress and then changes her mind. We’ve taken three dresses to first fitting. You were in the store. You know what these fabrics cost.”
“What were the three designs?”
Back in the store over a glass of wine, she shows me the three designs.
I’m amazed. “But these are totally different.”
“See what I mean?” Poppy’s head shakes.
I’m confused. “She has no idea what she wants.”
“No clue. She seems happy enough, and her mother is happy, spending her husband’s money, and there’s plenty of time. Only, I’m going to go broke trying to give her what she wants.”
Next morning, I go back to Kingpin to collect my car. On the way back, I have an idea. I ask Poppy, “Your bride with the big wedding. Can’t you make something from the fabric in the dresses you already made?”
“I don’t have a pattern for anything like that.”
“I’ve had a thought about it.”
When I get back to the store, on a big piece of packing paper, I make a sketch with charcoal and white chalk. A dress in a sweep, off one shoulder, sewn in wide strips, but so they would hang like a bias cut.
Poppy’s eyes grow wide. “It looks fantastic. I wouldn’t know how to make it, though.”
“Me either. But I can work it out.” I ask her, “Can you spare me for half an hour?”
I take the brown paper with the sketch down to the basement workshop. Using cotton offcuts, I drape fabric over a mannequin until I start to see how to make it hang and fit together for the design.
There’s noise upstairs. It doesn’t sound good.
And he comes down the stairs. Running. Random mob guy.
“Hi.” His grin ignites me and I hate him for it. “I’m Finn, and I’ll be your kidnapper today.”
Chapter Six
Finn
She runs. She knows her way around the workshop.
I need to get her out of here. If I let her keep this up, Giovani’s men will be on us, and on her friend upstairs. I passed two van loads of them on the way. I know it was them. Giovani was leading the charge in a little red Italian sports car.
So, running around the room, I dodge to let her run up the stairs. Watching her in her tight leather pants, with the crisp white shirt, open deep over her hot, olive tanned skin, I feel like I could be in the best action movie. But this is deadly serious. Why does she make me think of frivolous things like that? Fantasies all the time.
I call after her, urgently, “If it’s not me, it’s going to be someone a lot worse.”
As I hoped, she darts out of the back entrance. Where I parked the van. This time, I had the sense to leave the side door open.
Outside, she runs in the narrow space in the alley, squeezing past the van. Giovani’s men are making a noise in front of the shop. Braking hard. Piling noisily out of their vehicles.
I’m closing on Mia. She shouts, “I don’t know if anyone is worse than you.”
“It has been said.” She has no way out now. Either she gets in the van, or she has to get past me. She jumps to get by. I block her. “Look, I’ve got a job to do.”