Page 71 of False Start

"It's like I don't even know you anymore," Noah says. "Last year, he was a devout player, and now he's coming out oftworelationships? He stiffs us for the bill on drinks after our games, but, in his spare time, he gives back to the community through afashion workshop?" Noah looks like he might blow a gasket. "How can both be true?"

"I guess I'm just a complex guy," I smirk, and Dad coughs around his obvious laughter.

"While we're dropping bombshells," Damon starts hesitantly.

"Oh, no!" Noah interrupts. "I can't take anymore surprises." But Damon forges on.

"I'm not just back for the summer. I was released from my contract. I'm home for good."

"Oooh!" Mom gasps and grabs hold of Dad for support. "Please don't tell me you're joking." Tears are welling in her eyes.

"I'm not joking," Damon confirms. "I have a tiny place in Alphabet City while I'm getting situated, then I'm going to have to…figure out my next step, I guess."

Mom rushes over to Damon and hugs him with such force, his chair almost falls over.

"Right on, man," Adam says with a smile. "You being gone most of the year was gettingreallyold."

"You're telling me," Damon says. Mom is still attached to him like a barnacle.

Looking around the table, I feel like the Grinch when his heart grew three sizes. I might not have Denise, but love and joy surround me. For now, it's enough.

Chapter thirty

Denise

"Exceptionallines,Ms.Jeffries,and I love the subtle luster the cashmere brings," Mr. Maxwell gushes as he circles my finished dress. He continuously adjusts the bright red frames up and down his nose as he inspects the garment; a sure sign he loves it. I bite back a smile.

"Please also create this look in plum and copper. I know the ladies will eat this up!" He flips the hem of his argyle cloak with a flourish and proceeds to the next designer's station, leaving me in a grinning stupor.

He likes my dress! After months of redesigns and remaking the prototype in several different fabrics, my dress isdone. And not only does Mr. Maxwell love the final look, but he wants it in two additional colors!

Despite being in February, with spring and summer around the corner, the upcoming New York Fashion Week will focus on Fall and Winter lines. I created a tea-length cashmere gown in a floral pattern of deep pinks, purples, and browns. It has a boat neckline and puffy sleeves that end at the elbow. It's a look best suited for a formal evening event, and the cashmere will lend warmth in cooler weather. In a solid color, people will be able to dress it down, perhaps for work, or to pair it with a statement necklace that might be overpowered by the floral option. I made a dress I would personally want to wear, and after so many late hours and scrapped designs, I'm proud of what I achieved.

"Not just one, butthreedresses in the show? You better watch your back," Julie jokingly warns. One of her designs was also chosen; a cropped jacket in charcoal tweed with a matching skirt that hits just above the knee. Just like my design, I would totally wear hers with pride.

"Want to join the rest of the design team for drinks? We're heading to South Soho Bar once Mr. Maxwell is done making the rounds."

I consider Julie's invitation while trying not to sigh. What I really want to do is go home, snuggle with Clawdette, and rewatch a few of my favorite "Project Runway" episodes. I give her a placative smile.

"I was kinda hoping—" I start, but she cuts me off with a wave of her hand.

"No. No, no, no, Denise! You've been dodging drinks forweeks, and you need to bond with your team. If for no other reason than to hold your win over Merrick. Whoever told him corduroy cargo pants were the next big thing was seriously unhinged."

We both giggle behind our hands, trying not to disrupt the garment review. Julie takes hold of both my shoulders and softens her expression.

"In all seriousness, wemissyou. We're all just trying to find the joy after what happened with Cynthia." She looks me in the eye earnestly. "You've seemed more down than most."

My shoulders droop a bit, and my face falls with the weight of everything. Now that the designs are locked, I can finally breathe.

"I won't lie; all that definitely threw me for a loop." I consider whether to divulge more. Over the past few months, some of the other designers have become close friends, Julie especially.

"My brother…," I clear my throat. "Cynthia isn't the first person I've lost to suicide. It was so unexpected, and then there was some personal stuff that happened." I trail off. "It's been tough."

She squeezes the hands still holding my shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, Denise. But that's all the more reason to come and have a few cocktails with us. Maybe make a new friend at the bar who can help you blow off some steam?" she suggests with a mischievous grin. If only she knew what a slippery slopeblowing off some steamcan be.

"OK, OK," I grumble. "I'll come foronedrink." When she does a little happy dance, I add, "Justonedrink, Julie. I'm so exhausted, I could sleep for a month. And definitely no dick."

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