“Wow, you’ve been busy.” Gemma tucked her brown and gold hair behind her ear, studying the designs.
Princess for a Day was Gemma’s brainchild, and what Crystal loved most about it was that it had nothing to do with stereotyping girls as frilly little princesses and everything to do with enabling girls of any age to become whatever they wanted, at least for a few hours. They offered costumes for just about everything, from rockers and academic princesses to construction workers and goth princesses. Girls could dress up in leather or lace, tomboy outfits, and just about anything else they could dream up. As Crystal thought up new designs, she realized that with their own designs, the possibilities were endless.
Gemma and Crystal wore the costumes they offered, and Crystal loved when Gemma pushed her outfits beyond the proper confines of societal norms. Today Gemma wore a fancy Snow-White-meets-Lolita princess costume, complete with white thigh-high stockings, shiny black Mary Jane’s, and a short dress similar enough to Snow White’s for children to make the only connection they should. Even though they were best friends, Crystal’s goth cheerleader outfit, complete with fishnet stockings and a black spike choker, underscored their differences. But while Gemma wore the outfits that rang true to who she was inside and out, Crystal’s were only partially driven by who she was. They were mostly derived from the persona she needed to convey in order to feel safe.
“These are just sketches,” Crystal finally responded. “But I think they’ll add a unique flair to the princess realm. I took the warrior princess idea from Game of Thrones. You know that tall, sword-carrying blonde? She’s my inspiration. I think lots of little girls dream of being that kick-ass. And the snow goddess is one of my favorites. We can make the boot covers out of white faux fur, and give the girls a choice of a long flowing dress accented with gold and sparkle appliqué to simulate snowflakes, or a knee-length outfit with tights. I love the nerd princess idea, and the banker princess, because, let’s face it, some girls are number ninjas.”
She fidgeted with the jagged edges of her skirt, anxious to hear Gemma’s thoughts on her designs. In the silence, her mind drifted back to last night. She hadn’t texted Bear when she’d arrived home, as he’d asked. She’d wanted to, but they’d been so close to kissing, she felt like they were on the cusp of taking their long history of excruciatingly hot flirting to the next level. And she wasn’t ready for that. Yet.
For months his attention had had her insides whirling like a tornado, and working on these designs had thrown her right back to her college days, bringing an onslaught of both good and painful memories. The combination of both was overwhelming. Determined not to be defined by her dysfunctional family or where she’d come from, she had reinvented herself when she’d gone to college, and she’d done a hell of a job. She’d even gone by a different name. “Chrystina” had been everything “Chrissy” wasn’t, and people had liked her. She was girly and proper and smart, of course, because her father had always drilled the importance of good grades into her head. And despite her mother’s fall down the rabbit hole, she wasn’t a stupid woman. But just over two years into her wonderful new life, one party, and one treacherously bad decision, had brought her world crashing down around her—and no-bullshit, hard-as-nails, don’t-fuck-with-me “Crystal” was born. Creating a reputation for being into tough guys and having a penchant for one-night stands had made her emotionally untouchable, and that had kept her safe and sane.
“These are great,” Gemma said, bringing Crystal’s mind back to the moment. “But do you really think we can make them and still keep up with the business? Between the kids and the boutique, I have so little free time.”
“I think so, if we start small. Maybe we make a few of one outfit so production is rote, and see how they sell. If they do well, we can recruit design students to work—”
“I can’t afford a manufacturing staff,” Gemma interrupted. “I guess we could see what it would cost to have them made overseas or something.”
“I don’t think we need to do that. Just hear me out.” Crystal moved the papers over and sat on the table, getting more excited by the second. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d find such a fabulous friend, much less have the opportunity to be part of something so exciting. “As I said, we can start by making a few costumes ourselves. I’ll do it after hours.”
“Says the girl who’s going to get a big honking ticket because she doesn’t have time to get her car inspected,” Gemma reminded her.
“I know. I’ll get to that this week.” She knew that probably wasn’t going to happen, given the limited hours of the inspection station, but hoping it was true kept her anxieties at bay.
“I have a sewing machine. I just need the production materials. If they sell well and there’s enough demand, then we can recruit fashion design students and offer them a piece of the pie. I’d have given anything to have an opportunity like this when I was in school. They basically work for free for the first few months, until we get ahead of our costs. Then they get a commission off of each piece that sells. It’s a win-win. They can use their experience on their résumés, like a commissioned internship.”
“Or even better, maybe some of them stay on and we can build a staff.” Gemma’s green eyes glittered with enthusiasm. “I know how we can free up some of your time. I’ll call the store where we ordered my wedding dress and set up a fitting instead of having you hem it and take it in.” Gemma’s dress wasn’t a typical wedding gown. Two weeks ago she’d fallen in love with a knee-length white satin dress with a strapless crisscross bodice, a layer of chiffon over the skirt, and a jeweled sash. She looked gorgeous in it, but they’d had to order her size, and Jewel Braden, the manager of Chelsea’s Boutique, where they’d found the dress, had warned her that that particular dress almost always needed to be fitted.
“Are you sure? Does Chelsea’s even do fittings?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Jewel said they have a part-time seamstress. It’s perfect. We can bring Dixie and look for your dresses at the same time. That is, if you don’t mind going with me? That’s a maid-of-honor thing, isn’t it?”