Chapter 7 - The Master's Eye
I didn't blink or look away from her gaze.
"I bought that deadstock bolt at an estate auction three years ago in Charlotte," I told her honestly.
"It was stored in cedar, perfectly preserved, and it had the heaviest drape of any American satin I’ve ever handled."
Eleanor ran her fingers along the shoulder seam, her thumb testing the tension of the blind stitches with expert precision.
"There are perhaps four people left in this entire state who know how to hand-pad a lapel and roll a bridal hem without pulling the grain," she noted.
"And none of them work out of Milan. They learned it in old apprentice shops before factories moved overseas."
She turned the gown over, inspecting the seventy-two pearl buttons and the hand-finished loop fastenings.
"Why did June tell my family that she hired a foreign design house instead of telling us her own sister possessed this caliber of talent?"
"Because she thought an alterationist in Hickory would make her look cheap to people who own commercial mills," I answered bluntly.
"And she told me not to attend her wedding because my presence would embarrass her in front of your circle."
Eleanor’s lips narrowed into a thin, dangerous line that signaled an impending corporate storm.
May you like
"She told my son that your family had estranged you years ago because of personal financial problems."
"She even asked Gene for an additional ten thousand dollars yesterday afternoon, claiming she needed to settle an old family debt on your behalf."
