Bella
“You need people to see what you can do,” Miro said over breakfast at his place as I flipped through the portfolio on my tablet, adding a few new sketches to the wedding gown ideas I’d started pulling together again now that I finally had space to breathe and create.
Lucia coloring on the floor with the new crayons he’d bought her without even asking.
He pushed a black coffee toward me and leaned back in his chair, sleeves rolled up, looking unfairly calm.
“There’s a cocktail thing tomorrow night. Investors will be there, brides-to-be with deep pockets, and a few magazine editors. Come with me. I’ll make the introductions.”
I wrapped both hands around the mug and felt the heat seep into my palms. I didn’t know if I should have been grateful or terrified. The fact that Miro would
