Page 5 of Dream On, Ramona Riley

“Perfect,” April said, already on her own phone and tapping away.

“Oh, it’s true,” Marion said. “The movie is one of those ‘love is love’ stories, so you two ought to like that.”

Ramona and April—bisexual and pansexual, respectively—shared a look, though Marion had a point. Plus, in a small town like Clover Lake, where minds could be, admittedly, a wee bit small, a queer movie taking over the streets for the summer was a pretty big deal.

“It’s based on that book that famous book club picked a while back that hit all the bestseller lists,” Marion said. “Can’t remember the author’s name, but—”

“Iris Kelly,” April said, who had returned to typing furiously on her phone. “Queer romance author, total Leo, love her.”

Marion shrugged. “Anyway, Owen confirmed it when I came in at noon. Apparently, one of the main characters is a waitress, so he’s getting paid the whole hog to close the café here and there for filming.”

“Really?” Ramona said, wondering just how much the studiomust be paying Clover Moon’s owner. This place was Owen’s whole life, had been in his family for three generations.

“Really,” Marion said, taking a pen out from behind her ear and tapping it on her order pad.

“That’ll be interesting,” Ramona said.

“Sure will,” Marion said, then sauntered away to put in Ramona’s turkey sandwich order.

Ramona took a sip of water just as April grabbed her arm, nails digging into the soft flesh above her elbow.

“Ow,” she said flatly, but April didn’t budge, her eyes glued to her phone.

“Noelle” was all she said.

“As in…Christmas?” Ramona asked.

April finally looked up. “As in Yang.”

Ramona felt her breath go still in her lungs. She blinked, but couldn’t seem to get her mouth to close, her brain to properly compute. Noelle Yang was a costume designer. A legend. Had studied at RISD as well, decades ago, then moved to LA and famously camped out in front of Emmeline Roth’s trailer on the set ofWhen Skies Collideuntil the iconic designer agreed to speak with her. Noelle was even escorted off set in handcuffs a few times, though Emmeline never pressed charges. As the story went, Emmeline finally grew so fed up with seeing Noelle’s face peering into her windows, she let the twenty-two-year-old present her portfolio just to get the girl out of her hair.

What Emmeline saw changed both of their lives. They started a mentorship that lasted five years until Noelle got the chance to lead a design team forBetter Off Deadand promptly won an Oscar for the costume design. Since then, she’d dressed actors in rom-coms, science fiction adventures, indie films no one understood, and mythological fantasies. ShewasHollywood costume design.

And Ramona’s idol since she was nine and fell in love with thecostumes inGreatness, a sexy romp of a movie about Catherine the Great that won Noelle her third Oscar.

Now, Ramona finally managed to swallow. “What about her?”

April couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “You know what about her.” She turned her phone so Ramona could see theVarietyarticle she was reading aboutAs If You Didn’t Know, a paragraph that featured Noelle’s name and the wordsleading the design team for the queer rom-comhighlighted by April’s cursor.

“This is it,” April said, turning her phone back around and scrolling.

“This is what?” Ramona said.

“Thething,” April said, waving a hand around. “The thing that’s going to shift your perspective and deepen your understanding of your life’s purpose.”

“I thought that was supposed to happen this week,” Ramona said. “Cast and crew don’t show up for another three.”

April stuck out her tongue.

Ramona chuckled, but inside, her stomach was in knots. Noelle Yang. In Clover Lake. In this café even, getting coffee to get through her day. Or maybe a croissant. Clover Lake’s famous honey whiskey pie, which Ramona had recently perfected baking.

Ramona’s mind flashed to her portfolio, the designs filling her sketchbook, the myriad files on her digital program, the fully realized garments she’d sewn herself, crowding the spare room in her father’s house, no one to wear them, no one to flourish inside their seams.

Once upon a time, she dreamed about exactly this kind of opportunity. As a RISD student, walking the same halls as Noelle had years before, planning out her own destiny to get herself to LA, get herself noticed, refusing to take no for an answer. Dressing actors in ornate gowns, warrior garb, or even a simple pair of jeans and a cardigan—the clothes that made actors come alive, made stories feelreal.

And then her dad got hurt, her family needed her, and all that just…faded.

And now it was too late.