Page 44 of His Hot Mess

Lucy may be the one who normally taught the life lessons, but this was one area where I knew a helluva lot more than my big sister.

“Thrifting and vintage is one of the absolute best ways to style yourself. You can find unique pieces you’dneverfind in a cookie-cutter box store. Plus—and this is even more important—do you know how much waste goes into the clothing industry?”

I didn’t wait for her to answer. Instead I sat up straighter started speaking with an authority that wasn’t totally earned. I hadn't actually known the industry facts until I’d researched the rag yard last week—the place I’d discovered I needed to go to source stock for my shop. I’d gone deep into the research over the past few days in an attempt to distract myself from a certain gorgeous builder, and while it hadn’t been successful—I’d still spent far more time ruminating on recent events than anything else—I had learned a few things.

I began listing off the astonishing facts, like how many millions of tons of textiles were thrown into landfills. And how many greenhouse gas emissions clothing factories were responsible for. (A lot.)

“And don't get me started on the working conditions of people making clothing in impoverished countries,” I finished.

By the end of my mini-speech, Lucy's face had gone pale. “I’m never going to be able to buy clothing in a discount shop again."

“Hey,” I said, softening. “It’s not your fault! All I'm saying is vintage shopping is an amazing way to look great—” I idly plucked at my vintage denim jacket and chunky yellow necklace, “—while doing your part to keep more clothing out of the landfill.”

After that little display, and with a little negotiation, Lucy relented on the bridesmaid dress, with the caveat that I had to show her three outfits she could choose from.

"I'm really impressed," Lucy said on our way home. "You've done a lot of thinking about this. Which is why I feel good about offering to invest in Sadie's Vintage.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, unable to keep the confusion from my voice.

“I was going to offer to give you some seed money to get started—I didn’t want to ask how you were paying for the work Grayscale is doing, but I surmised you’re dipping into your credit cards to fund it. I could offer you a much better lending rate.”

Lucy smiled at me, but I didn’t return it. “What?” she asked.

I don’t know why the credit card comment irritated me, but it did. “I’m not using credit cards to fund this. I negotiated with Charles to cover the entire cost of the renovations myself.”

“Charles?”

“The landlord.”

“Did you…”

I gaped. “Did I what? Sleep with him to get him to cover it?”

“Sadie! I wasn’t going to say that.”

“But you were wondering how I did it.”

“Yes, I was wondering,” Lucy said, her words clipped.

I couldn’t believe Lucy would ever think that about me. For a moment I wondered if that was something Iwouldever do? I scrubbed the thought from my mind. I was too furious at my sister for assuming I hadn’t used my brain to figure this out.

We sat in stiff silence as she turned into Barkley Falls. It wasn’t until she pulled up to my building and turned off the engine that she turned to me. “Sadie—”

“Don’t,” I said.

“I just wanted to—”

“I said don’t, Lucy.” My voice was louder than I meant it to be. But I was pissed. Even if she didn’t think I’d jumped into bed to get the landlord to pay for the repairs, she definitely assumed I’d flirted my way into it. Which I hadn’t, not this time.

I took a breath. “I’m doing things differently now, okay? I’m trying very hard to do things my way and I need you to trust that I can take care of my own business. I know you want me to succeed, but I think you don’t believe I can, at least not without you.”

“That’s not true!”

“Come on. Admit that at least some part of you thinks I’m going to fall on my ass. That I’m going to…”

“Sleep with the contractor?”

I pinched my lips together, mortification burning alongside the anger now. I knew there was no way for me to come out of this without sounding defensive about what had happened at the barbecue with Chris. Maybe Lucy was right. Maybe I was doomed to mess up—I already had, hadn’t I?

---