"I want to do a different one for you this time, Callan." Liam scribbled down the last measurement he took of Callan on his notepad.
He sat on the armchair in his office and flashed his friend a tired smile.
"You good?" Callan asked, his eyes stony. He sucked at caring. It always didn't seem genuine even though he meant it.
"Yeah, just nervous and shit. You know? I was nominated and I am kind of nervous about the whole thing. What if I don't win? They shouldn't have added my name to the damn list." Liam's forehead folded into a crease as he kneaded his long lean fingers against his temples.
"You are good. You should not worry about that. Winning or losing doesn't change the fact that you are good."
"Oh oh," Liam guffawed at his friend's words. "Did that just come from you? Callan Barlowe is giving me some words of encouragement. Strange man, am I with the right person?" Staring intensely at Callan, he laughed again. "What the hell happened to my cold friend? Did marriage change you now, huh?"
"Now that you are done with your business, you can leave," Callan said drolly, hands resting on the massive pile of files on his office desk. He worked so hard, yet, the files never decreased.
"Now this is the Callan I know." He leaned forward, crossing his legs stylishly. "But I am not leaving."
"Orla will need a dress for the dinner, you should make one for her," Callan said thoughtfully. The uncanny look on his face caused Liam to burst into a fit of laughter. "I will call security to kick you out if you don't stop with your nasty cackles."
Liam was always getting on his nerves. He seemed to have a time of his life whenever he taunted him.
"I know you're crazy enough to do that but you wouldn't do that to me though." He sent a wink to Callan.
"Try me." Callan rasped.
"Well, I'm glad you talked about your wife, how is she doing?" He asked.
"I thought you took her number one of the days you've met."
"Asshole." Liam eyed his friend. "I wouldn't have to ask you if I had her number. Maybe I should visit your house."
"Yes, you should. I will let you know when to come to take her measurements."
"I have them with me. I was thinking of visiting for other reasons—" The corner of his lips twitched into a smirk. "Maybe when you are away."
Callan glared so hard at Liam. His risqué joke didn't sit well with him. His eyes turned bloodshot red, rage searing through his chest. He clenched up his fists, he would have punched Liam real bad in the face if he wasn't his best friend, and if he was not conversant with his naughty jokes.
"Your time here is up." He warned, his face devoid of emotions. "Liam, I am busy."
"Hey, easy man." Liam burst into another fit of laughter. He laughed so hard he clutched his tummy with his hands for support. "You need to see your face right now."
"Fuck you, man." Callan jerked his middle finger at him, mouthing inaudible cuss words. "Get out of my office."
"You will let me stay if you want me to make you some nice suits." Liam winked at his friend.
"I pay you well to do that. You have no choice but to do that and if you don't do a nice job, I can employ someone else to do that. We have hundreds of designers in Dallas."
"That's correct, but none surpasses Liam Stone." He laughed, admiring his friend's perfect manly features that were similar to his.
Same way Callan couldn't put up with Liam's nastiness sometimes, Liam also wished Callan was less grumpy. They were best friends and have been for ten years now. Best friends with different personalities, but they easily understood each other when there was a need for it and they were always there for each other.
"You should take care of your wife, Callan. You know I never thought you'd be married. I had fears for whoever will end up with you. You are an asshole and I fear you will hurt any woman who ends up with you but then…Orla," he smiled at the mention of the name. "She's fragile and everything good, you shouldn't hurt her, Callan.”
"I would have listened to you if you had just one woman in your life, fucker."
"I am not perfect, but I do know when to draw the line. Orla is precious, you should treat her well."
"How did you know I am not treating her well?" Callan smiled, shaking his head.
"You left her to dance alone on your wedding day. I had to step in and make excuses for you. She cried so much that day, I just had to crack jokes that made her smile. She's fragile, Callan and hurting would do no good."
"You really should reconsider being a relationship counselor, you know? I see you are sick of being a fashion designer."
Liam chuckled, "You never listen." He dusted his crisp white shirt and smiled at his friend. "Royals hall, Tuesday by 9 pm. I am inviting you and your wife to be my guests." He passed the invitation card next to Callan, turning towards the door. He stopped and turned back to his friend. "Don't worry about my threats earlier. I will make the best outfits for Orla and you."
"I will see you on Tuesday." Callan simply said, eyes on his friend as he walked out of his office.
He picked up the card and took a glance at it. It was an invitation to a dinner and award night for all fashion brand owners in Dallas.
The nominees were given a slot to invite as many as five guests, and Callan and his wife were part of Liam's guest list. He smiled, secretly rooting for his friend.
Orla. The name popped up in his head. She had been singing lullabies for him every night since that first night she tried. His threat to send her out of the room was nullified because she made him sleep. The first night she sang for him was awesome, he slept peacefully and didn't wake up until the next day.
When he was up the next morning, Orla wasn't in the room and when she came back to the room, he didn't talk about packing her things out of the room, and she didn't mention it either.
Her voice had become something he gradually looked forward to every night before sleeping.
He smiled. He knew she sang every night since that first time, but he pretended not to know about it, he pretended not to act like he knew she sang for him. But deep down, he knew he owed her one for coming up with a remedy for his sleepless nights.