They Both Wanted Me Every Day — Now They Both Want Sunday to Last Longer Without Me Chapter 05

They Both Wanted Me Every Day — Now They Both Want Sunday to Last Longer Without Me Chapter 05

He walked into the yard with mud on his shoes, tracking it over the brick Grandma Eleanor had just swept clean.

“Lena. Come with me.”

I was mending an old handkerchief and didn’t look up. “Where?”

“To explain things for Nora.”

“I’m not her employee.”

Ethan reached for my hoop. I pulled it away. His hand stopped in midair.

“You weren’t like this before.”

I said, “And you never used to walk into my grandmother’s yard for her with muddy shoes.”

He looked down at his feet. His face flickered with discomfort.

Nora came in right after, eyes swollen. “Lena, I really didn’t know that pattern was off-limits. The client said if you’d just say one thing, she’d drop it.”

I asked, “What one thing?”

Nora bit her lip. “Just say I got the design from you.”

The wind outside the yard died down. Frank set down a teapot at the kitchen door, the lid clicking with a sharp sound.

Ethan looked at me. “This won’t blow up. You’re a Vance. She won’t push you too hard.”

I put down my needle. “So you both came here to make me take the fall?”

Nora shook her head frantically. “Not take the fall—just help me cover for it. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I asked, “How?”

She couldn’t answer.

Ethan filled in, “Nora’s atelier is just getting off the ground. She can’t afford this.”

I looked at him. “But I can?”

He frowned. “You have the Vances.”

“So do you.”

Ethan froze.

I said slowly, “When your company was tanking, you leaned on Vance connections. When you opened that club, I walked your first clients through the door. And now you’re telling me I’ve got the Vances—so I should be your human shield?”

Nora started crying. “Lena, I know you’re angry about me and Ethan being close. But this isn’t the time to fight over that.”

I picked up my scissors and trimmed the loose threads on the handkerchief. “I’m not fighting.”

Ethan let out a breath of relief.

Then I said, “And I’m not helping.”

His face went pale. “Lena. Don’t push me.”

I looked up. “What are you going to do?”

Nora grabbed his sleeve. “Ethan, don’t.”

But he said it anyway. “Your dad’s been trying to get the Vance collection into the city exhibition. I’ve got the sponsorship letter. If you don’t show, I’ll sit on it.”

Frank called from the doorway, “Mr. Sterling.”

Ethan didn’t look at him. “Lena. Don’t make me go there.”

I pushed my needle into the fabric. “You already went there.”

…

That afternoon, Ethan took me to Nora’s atelier.

Not because I changed my mind. Because I wanted to see how far they’d push this.

The place was crowded. The client sat in the main seat, a navy gown beside her. Nora stood nearby, looking terrified.

Ethan murmured to me, “Just admit the pattern came from you.”

I asked, “And after that?”

“I’ll handle it.”

“How?”

He got annoyed. “You seriously want to settle scores right now?”

I didn’t answer.

The client spotted me and spoke politely. “Miss Vance, Ms. Hale says you supplied this design?”

Nora’s eyes locked onto me. The same look she’d given me in exams, begging for answers.

I used to give them.

Today I said, “No.”

Nora’s face drained. Ethan turned his head, barely containing his fury. “Lena.”

I walked to the gown. “This pattern isn’t from the Vances. And it’s not from my grandmother’s line either. Looks like it was copied from some old sketchbook—and the copy dropped a stitch somewhere.”

Nora’s voice went sharp. “Lena, don’t lecture me on things you don’t actually know.”

I looked at her. “I don’t know?”

She caught herself, scrambling to soften it. “I mean—this stuff is so niche. You never work with it anyway.”

I didn’t call her out.

The client’s niece spoke up, “What’s the significance of the missing stitch?”

I said, “The original was for a blessing. Missing that stitch flips the meaning entirely. You wouldn’t want it at an event.”

Someone in the workshop inhaled sharply.

Nora’s assistant, Mia, clutched a stack of fabric samples, her knuckles pale against the cloth. She muttered, “Nora, I warned you that book was sketchy.”

Nora whipped around. “What are you talking about?”

Mia shut up immediately.

Ethan glanced at her. “We can deal with employees later. Right now we solve the client’s problem.”

I said, “The solution is simple.”

The client asked, “What?”

“Take it apart and redo it.”

Nora shot back, “There’s no time. The event is in two days.”

I ran my fingers over the gown’s stitching. “One night to undo it. Half a day to fix it.”

She stared at me. “Easy for you to say—can you even do it?”

Before I could answer, Ethan cut in, “Lena’s just running her mouth.”

The client looked at me. “Miss Vance—can you fix it?”

I said, “I can try.”

Nora’s voice sharpened. “Try? This is my commission, not your playground.”

Ethan also warned, “Don’t be reckless.”

I looked at them—one panicking, one blocking me—and suddenly found it funny.

Before, when I wanted to do anything, they said I could. Now I hadn’t even touched a needle yet, and they were scared I actually could.

I told the client, “If I ruin it, I’ll take responsibility.”

Nora pounced, “You all heard that—she said she’ll take responsibility!”

Ethan didn’t stop her.

I nodded. “Good. You heard it.”

The client pushed the gown toward me. “I’ll wait for you.”