Page 80 of Forget Me Not
Syve told her everything—how the panel was impressed by the numbers she’d run for cost, to the data she’d collected across various social media sites, including real poll results from actual people about whether they would buy the items she designed, and at what price.
One of the ladies, who seemed especially curious from the very beginning, made a comment about wearing the same size as the skirt on the table and asked to try it on. Syve laughed as she explained the skirt was no longer in her possession—but that she did have thirty dollars cash in her pocket after the woman had begged to buy it so she never had to take it off.
Two other pieces had not made it back to her truck either—the poncho and the little dress went home with one of the men, who excitedly mentioned they’d likely fit his daughter by her birthday next spring.
“He offered to personally help me set up a website for Sew It Seams, since I still don’t have one. If this really goes the way I hope, I’m going to need a webpage for online sales.”
“Imagine selling a man a dress for his kid and getting paid with a ‘www dot,’” Aimi cackled. “I’m so proud of you! So, you get the dough? How does that work?”
“I do. I’ll be getting the money, and it’s more than I expected. I can use it for expenses, like the mortgage and utilities, and also fabric and stuff to start making more pieces. I now have the option now to hire someone to help—basically as an assistant. Maybe a student or something, just to handle the simple mending while I focus on the big pieces, or even just to cut things out, I’m also getting full support for the entire release of the line. They’ve given me contact info for a few people I can talk to about financial planning and other logistics, so I’m not running in blind and doing this all solo.”
“I’m calling it now. I give it three years tops and your name will be on billboards along the coast.”
Syve could hear Toni in the background grumbling something about a high school half-day.
“Go, go. Handle the teenagers, I still need to call Bastien anyway.”
“Pray for me. I’m so proud of you! Love you!”
“Love you, good luck.”
The call ended and she quickly tapped Bastien’s contact, giggling again at Hattie’s ducklings when they popped up on the screen.
“Bambi, when can I expect to see your clothes in magazines?”
“Awfully presumptuous, aren’t we? You don’t even know if I got it or not yet.”
“Of course I do. They would have to be insane to tell you no. Are you home yet? We should celebrate.”
“I just pulled into town, actually.”
“Perfect, I’ll head over—see you in a few.”
Syve had just backed the old truck into a spot in front of the shop to unload when a silver Tahoe pulled in next to her.
“Sheriff, long time no see. Need help with anything?” she asked as the gray-haired man steppedout.
“I should be asking you, can I carry something? I was hoping to chat a minute, but I might as well get you all inside first.”
Her stomach turned as they hauled her things in.
No one ever made you wait for good news.
“I appreciate the extra hand. Would you like anything to drink?” she asked warily once the truck bed was empty.
“I’m fine, thank you. Listen, I’m sure you heard about the body?”
Syve nodded, she recalled seeing it mentioned in the group chat with Aimi and Cameron during one of the few breaks she had taken the night before.
“Well, we haven’t released this to the public yet, but we’re fairly certain it was an animal attack. It took us a bit to be able to identify the victim—maybe you should sit down.”
“Why are you telling me this? Who was it?”
Everyone she was close to she had talked to or heard from since the body was recovered. Well, almost everyone.
Shivers zipped across her limbs and she did exactly as the sheriff suggested—stepping back and sinking down onto the sofa. There was one person she hadn’t heard from in two days now. A cold sweat swept over her and she shivered; regretting having changed into shorts before the drive home.
“We had to use dental records. I’m sorry, but we’re positive it’s Gunther.”
