Page 5 of Blindsided
I stand up from the armrest. “I’ll let you two get back to your Netflix andchilling.”
Roan tips his head in thanks, and I retreat to my bedroom to give them space. Is it too soon to go back to Freya’s?
The hum of the sewing machine is music to my ears as I work on taking in the inseam of a pair of trousers that Sloan designed for some famous political figure in London.
I’m currently tucked up in the loft area that overlooks Kindred Spirits Boutique. The shop is a red brick building located on iconic Redchurch Street in Shoreditch—a really lovely nook in London away from the tourists. Our clients range from normal everyday people to famous athletes and affluent residents. Last month, we had a pretty popular movie star stop in and tweet about the shop, so business has exploded even more than usual.
Kindred Spirits carries both menswear and womenswear, custom and one-of-a-kind pieces from up-and-coming designers. Sloan heads up the menswear department, and her business partner, Leslie Clarke, designs for women.
I met Sloan back in Manchester when she hired me away from a bridal shop where I was working crazy hours. It was the job I accepted right after design school, and I kind of got stuck there, so I was happy to work for a new American stylist who was developing quite a reputation for herself.
Then, when Sloan’s personal life imploded and she divorced her husband, I ended up moving in with her and her daughter, Sophia. Sloan had a rough go of it for a long while until she met our seriously famous client, a Man U footballer named Gareth Harris. After a few bumps in the road, it was a fast track to happily ever after for both her and her daughter.
When Gareth retired from Man U and they started talking about moving to London, Sloan decided it was the perfect opportunity to open her own boutique with Leslie. They are both fashion design transports from America and felt kindred when they met, hence the name Kindred Spirits Boutique.
I was thrilled when they begged me to come on board to help, because they are lovely to work with. The boutique itself has transformed into a melting pot for all sorts of clothing, art, and accessories. All it’s missing is furry pink jumpers for my cat, and it’d be perfect!
“Freya! Do you have that Naomi Sharp gown finished yet?” Sloan’s voice calls up the staircase, and I lift the pedal on my sewing machine to hear the last bit of her request.
“It’s on the form up here!” I call down, glancing over the railing to see her standing at the bottom of the steps.
“Thank God!” Sloan says as she hustles up the stairs and into my giant loft office that is covered in items at various stages of the process. Sloan’s brown hair is piled on top of her head in a frenzied mess as she exhales the weight of her stress. “You would think chasing after a teenager and a toddler would have me in better shape.”
“I’d think being married to a seriously sexy footballer would have you in better shape.” I waggle my eyebrows suggestively and rev my sewing machine.
Sloan laughs as she moves towards the mannequin holding the gown. “Speaking of footballers, I hear you’re coming to Tanner and Belle’s party tomorrow night? Looking for a footballer for yourself, perhaps?” She shoots me a lascivious smirk, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“How do you even know I’m going to the party? I just agreed to it last night.”
She levels me with a flat look. “You forget your dear friend Allie is a Harris. There are never secrets in the Harris family.”
“It’s a good thing Allie’s at a meeting or she’d be the subject of my withering stare right now.” I shake my head and pop up the heel of my sewing machine to twist the trousers around. “Mac thinks I should get out a bit more, and he’s a whiny toddler if he doesn’t get his way.”
Sloan gets a strange look on her face. “Well, do you know what you’re going to wear?”
My eyes lift to her. “No…why?”
Sloan squeals with delight and yells over the railing, “Leslie, Freya doesn’t have her outfit picked out yet!”
I hear a squeak of giddiness before rapid footsteps are running up the stairs. Leslie’s auburn hair comes into view first. Then I see a lush black dress in her hands. “I have been saving this for you!”
“What is it?” I ask as she places what looks to be a gorgeous wrap dress on my workspace.
“A dress. A perfect dress that I made with you in mind.”
I level her with a serious look. “Why on earth did you make a dress with my body in mind?”
Leslie waggles her brows and glances down at my chest. “‘Cause I love your shape, and I had this really fun idea for a bustline with a wrap bodice that would only work on a full-chested woman. And well—”
My brows lift. “I certainly fit that description.”
Leslie presses her hands on my desk. “Try it on, please? Give us a fashion show. We’ve all been working like dogs today.”
“Yes!” Sloan adds with equal exuberance. “Fashion show!”
I lift my hands defensively. “If you two are going to make me try on clothing, I need coffee first.”
I step out of the shop and into the humid, warm summer air in London. Weather is so hit or miss here in the summers. The last week of May can feel like winter or bring a crazy heatwave. You never truly know what you’re going to get. Growing up in Cornwall was always mild to cool weather since it’s so close to the sea. This sweating in the middle of the day thing is not something I’m keen on.
