I wait on the phone, tense as a violin. With every second that ticks by, my anxiety grows. God, this was so unprofessional of me. What was I thinking? I need to apologize. Right now, before the client slams the phone in my face. “Actually, I’m so sorr—”
“I can… really have that?”
“The dress. Can I really have that for the same price? It looks… I mean… Wow.”
I can’t believe my ears. “I—Yes. Yes, absolutely. And it’s already in your size, so we would only have to make minor adjustments…”
The rest of the conversation flows easily. I can’t get over how excited Ms. Pierce is about this dress. A dress that I made.
Whatever bitterness Anne’s stunt had left in my mouth, it turns instantly sweet. By the time we get off the phone, my anxiety has melted. All I can feel is excitement.
“I take i
