Page 40 of The Forsaken Heir
The first thing I did when I woke on Monday was call Lorraine.
“Good morning, this is Sew You Like It. How can I help you?”
“Good morning, Lorraine,” I said, keeping my voice low so Delphine wouldn’t hear me while she made breakfast.
“Elle? Well, good morning. How are you, hun?”
“Uhm, I’m all right. Do you think I could come in today? Pick up a few hours?”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line, and when Lorraine spoke again, her voice was concerned.
“Sweetheart, are you having money issues?”
“No, no, no,” I said quickly. “It’s not that. I wanted to get out of the house for a bit.”
“Okay,” Lorraine said, but I could hear from the tone of her voice that she didn’t quite believe me. “We actually could use your help. The new embroidery machines arrived. They got here almost a week early. They’re heavy as all hell. We could use those muscles of yours. I’m sure the other girls would be happy for the assistance.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I said, blurting the words out in a rush. “Thanks, Lorraine.”
“All right. See you soon, dear.”
Hopping out of bed, I dressed as quickly as I could, and headed for the front door.
“Where are you going?” Delphine asked. “I made pancakes and bacon.”
Shit.
Pausing at the door, I turned to my old nanny. Strange. Even now that we were simply friends and roommates, I still thought of her as my nanny sometimes.
“Sorry,” I said. “Lorraine called me.” A white lie. “The embroidery machines she ordered came early. She asked if Icould help move them into the shop and get the old ones out to the dumpsters. I said I would.”
“Oh,” Delphine said, her shoulders sagging. “I thought we’d have breakfast together.” She gave me that same piercing gaze she used to give me when I was younger and had done something I shouldn’t. “Maybe talk about this mysterious weekend away that you had?”
Striding over, I grabbed a single pancake, stuffed some bacon in the middle, and folded it over like a sandwich.
“Thanks for breakfast,” I said, taking a bite and heading for the door.
“Uh-huh,” Delphine said bitterly as I left the apartment.
When I arrived at the shop, I found it a hive of activity. The delivery guys had left the huge crates containing the industrial embroidery machines out on the front curb. A couple of the girls armed with hammers and screwdrivers were trying to pry the wooden sides of the crate open to get to the machines—all while customers were coming and going, and regular folks were trying to make their way down the sidewalk.
“Wow,” I said as I walked up. “These are big.”
Tabitha and Miranda both worked full-time for Lorraine and were usually sweet and jovial, but they were looking frazzled as they worked on the boxes.
Tabitha waved a hammer at the crate. “That jackass dumped them here. Didn’t even bother to offer to take them around back or anything. Ugh.”
“Here, let me help,” I said, taking the hammer from her.
I outweighed both women by at least thirty pounds and towered over them by four inches or more. That, along with my enhanced strength, allowed me to make quick work of prying the nails from the crate. Within ten minutes, I had both crates open and helped the women haul them to the back of the store.
“Elle,” Miranda said. “I wish my husband was as strong as you. He can barely get the lid off a pickle jar.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I’m a big girl.”
Miranda and Tabitha both looked at me in confusion.
“Are you all right?” Miranda asked.
