A Lowcountry Bride by Preslaysa Williams

Maya and Derek’s relationship grew strong. In addition to working at the boutique, Maya was also working to establish her bridal gown design business. She lived with her father while looking for her own apartment in the area. She hoped to find her own place soon.

Two weeks after she had returned to Charleston, Maya was putting the finishing touches on her website, and she was almost ready for it to go live. She loved the simplicity of the website. It gave her the ability to showcase her unique style. Now all she had to do was finish writing the About page.

Maya clicked on the About page and typed the beginning:

Maya Jackson has loved playing dress-up ever since she was a little girl. That love for design carried into her adulthood. She got her professional start in fashion design as a junior designer for Laura Whitcomb Inc.

As soon as she went to write the next sentence, she caught sight of her father and Ginger walking into the boutique, hand in hand. Seeing the two of them together was sweet. “Hey, Pops,” she said, closing her laptop. “How are you?”

“Doing great.”

“I’m so glad you’re back in town for good, darling,” Ginger said. “You’re gonna do so well here. I can feel it.”

Maya smiled. “That means a lot to me coming from you.”

Ginger winked. “I know a good person when I see one.”

“We stopped by today because I couldn’t wait to give something to you,” Pops said.

“What is it?” Maya asked.

“The new deed to the house. I’m signing it over to you. No cost except for a dollar for good faith on the sale.”

Maya’s eyes widened. “Really? But why?”

Her father smiled. “Because Ginger and I will live together. I’m moving in with her, and I wanted to pass the home on to you one day anyway . . . whether you were returning to South Carolina or not. So I figured, why not now?”

Maya looked at the title deed. “Pops, this is . . . I’m speechless.”

“No need to be. Before your mother passed on, we had discussed eventually giving you the home. You can use one or two of the spare rooms as a design studio while you build your business. No need to have any cramped space anymore. It’ll be rent- and mortgage-free. No need for you to scramble to think about how to make a rent payment like you did when you were in New York.”

She nodded. That was the best idea. Maya hopped off the chair and hugged him. “Thank you so much.”

Derek stood off to the side, a smile on his face. “You know, Maya, you probably won’t have any money worries now since you’ve put your dresses in the boutique again too. I’m looking at the sales figures, and we’ve made more money this past week than we have in the prior month. We also have a slew of new email inquiries asking for a ‘Heather Gates dress.’”

“I have my work cut out for me,” Maya said. “Better get this website up and running soon.”

“Told ya you’d do good,” Ginger said. “I believed in you from the beginning.”

“So did I,” Derek said.

A thrill zipped through Maya. Derek was her boyfriend, and her dresses were selling. This was a dream come true.

“We better get going, Ginger.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Ginger gave a mock salute, and they kissed each other on the lips. They were too cute.

After they left, Maya opened up her laptop again to work on her website, but a notification dinged on her phone. She glanced at the screen. It was an email from Laura Whitcomb’s lawyer.

Oh.

She did not need any bad news today. Maya wavered on whether to read the email now or later, then decided that it was best to get it over with. She clicked it.

Maya winced. “Financially advantageous” meant that Laura didn’t think she’d get much money out of Maya anyway. It was also meant to be a dig at Maya and her new business, but Maya didn’t care. At least she wouldn’t be bothered by Laura anymore. Good riddance. Maya set her phone down and told Derek the news.

“‘Small start-up brand,’ huh?” he asked. “Guess Laura is underestimating you once again. It’ll be her loss in the long run. Especially when your company becomes super successful.”

“You know what, you’re absolutely right!” Maya laughed and clicked on the About page of her website again. She read the last line that she had typed:

She got her professional start in fashion design as a junior designer for Laura Whitcomb Inc.

“Hmm . . . no. I don’t want to say that. Don’t want to hang on Laura’s coattails anymore, not even in this new evolution of mine,” she muttered to herself. Maya deleted that reference and typed again:

Maya apprenticed under her mother, Adelaide Badoy-Jackson, a Filipina fashion designer who taught Maya indigenous stitching and clothing design techniques. Over time, Maya studied fashion design as an undergraduate and later incorporated West African design techniques in her work.

Maya smiled at that new paragraph. It was much better. It reflected her. Being herself was so much better than trying to fit into Laura’s little box.

“Maya?” Jamila said. “Can you help me with this dress?”

Maya glanced up. Jamila was busy trying to tie a sash around a pale pink satin dress. “Of course I can. Let me do that for you.”

Maya tied the sash, and she couldn’t help but remember her own mother helping her with dresses too. Perhaps Jamila would become Maya’s dress apprentice one day.

After she finished tying the bow, Jamila stepped back. “This looks great. Thank you.”

Maya smiled. Jamila would be a great apprentice one day.

“Things looking good on your new website, Maya?” Derek stood behind the register, busy calculating the rest of the boutique’s sales.

“Oh yes, they are looking excellent.”

Derek headed their way and tucked a stray curl behind Maya’s ear. Her heart pulsed quicker. She loved being around him.

“Wonderful,” he said. “We’re going to make a great team.”

“We definitely are,” Maya said. “Most definitely.”