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Hadley carried over a glass of Merlot for each of them. “Whatwould they say if I asked them?”

Spencer reflected on those head-butting days in college. Backthen, she thought she knew everything, was positive of that. These days, as sheapproached her thirty-first year on Earth, she was learning that perhaps thatwas not necessarily the case. Not that she didn’t have more work to do on thatfront. In answer to Hadley’s question, she adopted her best impersonation ofthe overly pretentious Professor Andrews from the Fashion Institute of Designand Merchandising. “Spencer comes with talent and passion and drive.” Shepaused to toss her head around the way Andrews would have. “But sheunfortunately gets in her own way, refusing constructive criticism andinsisting she’s always right, when in fact, she rarely is.”

“Ouch.” Hadley winced.

“I’m not saying she’s wrong. You’ve been warned.”

“Does that mean you’re going to push back when I say that thejacket you just laid down could be tapered just a tad for a more flatteringline?” Hadley winced in anticipation of Spencer’s reaction, but it came offmore adorable than apologetic. “The store is called Silhouette, after all.Maybe we should give one to the woman who wears this jacket.”

Spencer stilled herself from too big a reaction. It was merely asuggestion. She was fiercely protective of her work, so this whole practice of“listening to another person’s opinion” had her feeling defensive all overagain and like a fish out of water. Hell, they’d barely even gotten started.“It’s boxy on purpose,” she said, with a forced smile on her face. “It’s notsupposed to be feminine, which is what you seem to be going for.”

“Not necessarily.” Hadley lifted the hanger and studied thejacket. “It’s got a lot of personality. I love the epaulettes on the shoulders,but if you just pulled it in a touch at the waist, I think you’d have a worthyretail compromise.” She sat back down. “It’s not about femininity. But when awoman thinks she looks attractive, that translates to a sale. And some of thehottest male jackets on the market are tapered, while we’re at it. Humor me.It’s not even a major change. A few more stitches.”

Spencer closed her eyes briefly, leaning into the skid, and pulledout the pad she’d brought with her to take notes. If high-end retail was whatshe was after, then listening to someone like Hadley, who’d worked successfullyin that space, was likely wise. “Fine,” she said curtly, jotting down theadjustment.

“Is this gonna be a long night, then?” Hadley asked, rolling hershoulders as if preparing for battle.

“It could be.”

Hadley met her gaze. “Good thing we have a lot of wine.”

“And good thing I already like you.”

Hadley smiled. “Flatterer.”

Spencer hadn’t been wrong about the length of their work session.They had in-depth discussions (okay, debates) about each piece that were bothfrustrating and helpful. She hadn’t settled on which emotion won out. She’dsave that for later.

It was dark outside two and a half hours later when they came upfor a break. The two floor lamps on the second level served as the onlyillumination in the store as Hadley stood and stretched, her top pulling andrevealing a glimpse of her stomach. Spencer blinked, this time not lying toherself about the fact that she was checking Hadley out. She forced her gaze tothe ground as an overwhelming heat moved through her from her toes to herforehead. She hadn’t felt that kind of physical reaction since, well…ever.

“Can I get you a snack? Or we could order in if you’re hungry forsomething heavier.”

Spencer swallowed at the word “hungry” after the significantreaction she’d just had to a mere glimpse of Hadley’s skin. She reached for herwine to cover the expression on her face. The one she couldn’t seem to erase.Hadley waited while she drank and swallowed. “No, I’m good.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Completely.” She broke into what she hoped was a relaxedsmile.

“I’ll put out some fruit anyway,” Hadley said, eying hersuspiciously. “The peaches this time of year are juicy and delicious.”

Spencer nearly spat her wine across the expensive beigeupholstery. Her brain was a lecherous place. “Yeah? Cool. I bet they are. Thosepeaches.”

Hadley headed into some sort of back room and Spencer used thetime to become a normal person again, pep-talking herself into remaining ontask and keeping her thoughts and wandering eye in check.

It worked, for the most part.

“The knife pleats, I love,” Hadley said, pointing at the limegreen skirt lying on the couch across from them. “I’d wear that tomorrow.”

“Finally, something to green-light.” Spencer decided to celebratethe small victory.

“Speaking of green. It’s a tad bright. Can we tone down the colorslightly?”

There went the victory. “Bright colors are part of who I am as adesigner. We’ve been over this. I have a certain aesthetic that makes my workmine.”

“Which,” Hadley said, sliding down the couch so she was closer toSpencer, who sat in the adjoining arm chair, “is why we haven’t touched thebrights on some of the other pieces. I admire who you are as a designer verymuch or I never would have chased you down in the first place. But this skirtin particular is gorgeous and, in my opinion, is the linking agent of the linein its wholeness. What will make it more accessible for retail, however, is aslightly lesser value on that green.” At least her eyes were kind when she saidit. Hadley had a way of softening every blow simply in her style of delivery.“We’re working on universal. Keep that in mind.”

“I stand by the green.” But she didn’t entirely. She felt herselfwaffling, falling for Hadley’s sweet girl charm.

“And you’re not going to budge?” Hadley asked. “Even when you’reincredibly complimentary advisor can see the forest for the trees, when perhapsyou cannot, for purely understandable creative reasons?”