“I thought…LuMac seemed to be doing okay. It doesn’t seem so bad from the outside?”

I can hear him shifting, and it sounds like he’s sitting up. “She dreamed too big, I think…. Cindy, I’m trusting you not to share this with anyone…. My mother was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis.”

My jaw drops, and for the first time, I’m so glad to not be in the same room. Arthritis is an awful thing for anyone to have to deal with…but for those of us who very specifically rely on our hands…it’s a death knell. “That’s really awful. I’m so sorry.”

“I guess you can understand why it would be bad for business if word got out. We’re publicly traded at the moment, so stocks would plummet. Accounts would bail. It would be…devastating, and things are already bad. She was diagnosed a few years ago. We thought she could power through and just sort of…lead without being so involved, but I guess once a workaholic, always a workaholic.”

“Wow, that’s so much to deal with,” I say with a yawn as the city lights blur in the distance, and I pull the blanket up over my shoulders. “So what does all that mean for the show? No offense, but if things are so bad, shouldn’t you be there and not…here?”

He coughs out a painful laugh. “You would think, but no, the idea is that the show will drum up support for the brand. Sort of relaunch it for a new generation. Trust me when I say it wasn’t my first choice. There’s also the potential for future partnerships with the network…. It’s just…I didn’t come here expecting to be invested in—Shit, the little red battery light is blinking at me. I think this thing is about to go.”

“Oh, uh—okay, well, I guess—”

“I wasted the whole night talking about me, and I didn’t even ask you about yourself or how you’re doing…”

I laugh nervously. “You didn’t miss much. There’s not a lot worth knowing.”

“So says you. I spend a lot of time thinking about all the things I wish I knew about you,” he tells me, his voice low and earnest.

My heart jumps into my throat. “Well, I’ve never been on a walkie-talkie date, but this is the best one I’ve ever been on.”

“We didn’t even get to order dessert,” he says.

“Blame it on the walkie-talkie curfew.”

“Next time I’ll take you somewhere that requires shoes.”

“Don’t tease me. You know how much I love shoes, but I guess this is good night.” I don’t want to let go of this moment. I’m not ready.

“Or good morning.”

“Good morning,” I say back to him.

After that, the channel goes dead, and even though it was via walkie-talkie, I think that had to be one of the best dates I’ve ever been on. All that was missing was the kiss.

Afifteen-passenger van picks us up and takes us to the LuMac showroom in SoHo, a twelve-story corner brick building with huge, beautiful glass windows stretching up the entire length of the building.

As we walk in, we’re still buzzing with excitement from spending the night in a hotel room all by ourselves.

“I took a bubble bath,” Chloe says dramatically. “I swear that château was giving me dorm room flashbacks and it wasn’t good.”

Sara Claire shivers with disgust. “No one told me I’d need to bring shower shoes to this show like it was church camp all over again.”

Inside, we find ourselves in a long, narrow storefront. All the mannequins and displays have been pushed to the side, and down the center of the room runs a mini runway lined with chairs.

Addison’s eyes widen like a hyena preparing to pounce. “Are we walking that runway?”

“Welcome to LuMac,” Henry says as he steps out onto the runway, cameras rolling.

Everyone, myself included (ugh, I know), cheers in response. His suit is charcoal with light pinstripes, and considering how perfectly it’s tailored, I think it might be custom. He’s forgone a tie and undone his top button, and a crystal-blue silk pocket square peeks out of his breast pocket. As Sierra would say, he looks like a snack.

“What better way to introduce you all to the family business than to invite you to the place where it all started. When my mom, Lucy Mackenzie, was starting out, she rented a small office on the sixth floor of this building and shared it with one of her fellow recent fashion school grads. She’d won a small grant at her final student fashion show and had just enough to rent out a small space for a workstation. That student grant allowed her to make the first run of her famous slip dress. And now not only do we occupy the entire sixth floor, but the five below it as well. Today I wanted to give you all a chance to try on some of Mom’s most iconic designs and walk the runway before we take you upstairs for a grand tour.”

Everyone shrieks with delight, but my stomach drops because I know all about LuMac. The history. The strengths. The weaknesses. But most important of all—the size range. And when it comes to size inclusivity, LuMac is still in the Dark Ages, with a size range that only goes to a twelve and not even in their full collection. The slip dress, as iconic as it is, was always the kind of garment that defined the heroin-chic look on models with protruding hip bones and sunken cheeks.

“Jay?” Henry calls.

A beautiful person with short, perfectly edged lavender hair, a manicured beard to match, razor-sharp eyeliner, and nude lipstick rounds the corner. Jay wears a flirty skirt with a cropped sweater topped with a trench coat and platform sneakers.

“This is Jay,” says Henry.

Jay gives us jazz fingers and a curtsy before giving Henry a huge hug. “Our prince has returned from the war,” Jay says dramatically.

Henry chuckles and continues. “Jay is the new creative director of LuMac. They are the living embodiment of Mom’s vision for the brand, and as my mother continues to take a step back, Jay has pretty much been my other half as we fine-tune the future of LuMac.”

“Basically,” Jay says. “Henry is Daddy and I’m nonbinary Mommy.”

One or two of the girls laugh, a little unsure of what to make of Jay. Despite my uneasiness about what will be available to me for this fashion show, Jay makes me feel settled, like I’ve found my way back to my fashion-obsessed people.

“Follow me,” Jay says as Henry helps them down from the stage. “We’ve got racks upon racks of goodies for you beauties to choose from.”