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front of her sewing machine, which was set up on the coffee table.
    “Been busy today, have you?” She tossed her gym bag onto the bed next to Samair’s suitcases. “I brought Chinese.”
    “Yum!” Samair said, cutting some threads and pulling her newest creation from the machine. After she ran a critical eye over it she tossed the material at Joey. “Try this on.”
    “Ohhh! For me?” Pleasure ran through her and she squealed like a little girl. She loved it when Sammie made her clothes. They always fit perfectly, looked good, and lasted forever.
    “Made just for you, baby.”
    All her depressing thoughts floated away while she whipped her sweatshirt over her head and did up the bra-like top as she walked toward the bathroom.
    She pulled the door closed and gazed at herself in the full-length mirror hanging there.
    “It’s gorgeous, Sammie!” She ran her hands over the royal purple satin that cupped her breasts lovingly before she tangled her fingers in the soft fringe that hung from under the underwires to her hips. “You are so talented. When are you going to realize people would pay a lot to have something like this?”
    She did a shimmy and a little bump and grind, loving the way the fringe played peekaboo with her fair skin. The top was going to help her rake in the tips.
    “You really believe that?”
    “Fuck yeah!”
    “Good.” Sammie’s voice was determined. “Because I want you to help me start my own design label.”
    That got her attention. She spun away from the reflection in the mirror. “Really?”
    Samair nodded.
    “It’s about time!” Joey left the mirror and grabbed Samair in an enthusiastic hug. She felt like a proud mama. Sammie was finally going to go after her dream and do what she was meant to do—be her own creative and original self.
    This was exactly what Sammie needed. To remember what her dream was, and to go after it. When a person gives up on their dreams, their spirit dies.
    She went back and looked in the mirror again. This time Joey looked herself in the eye. It didn’t matter how many auditions she had to go to, she wasn’t going to give up on her dream either.
    Her stomach rumbled and she spun around and pointed at the waiting food. “You get that out while I change. Then we can eat, and you can tell me how I can help.”
    They didn’t bother with plates, just used forks to eat straight out of the takeout containers as they brainstormed.
    “I’ll be your official model and spokesperson! I have a few things you’ve made me over the years, and I’ll be sure to wear them, and tell everyone how durable they are, too. Durability is a key issue for dancers.” Sweat and constant rubbing against body parts were hell on materials.
    “I think starting with the dance community is great, but I need to do more. That isn’t enough business.” Samair chewed a piece of ginger chicken before rambling on. “I need to find a way to get the word out about custom lingerie, too. I know I’m not the only woman with hips and a big ass out there who wants to wear sexy underwear and not feel like an idiot.”
    “What about a catalogue?” She could leave one at the studio where she taught, and drop them off at every audition she went to. Soon they’d be all over the city.
    But Sammie was quick to nix that idea.
    “Too expensive. I have enough savings so that, if you agree to let me stay here, I won’t have to look for a day job for a couple of months. But only if I’m smart about where I spend.”
    “Mi casa es su casa.” Joey waved her fork blithely. The place wasn’t big, but she didn’t need a lot of room and it was nice to have Sammie around again.
    Samair grinned her thanks. “You know that means you get your outfits for free.”
    “Yes!”
    “I want to make some low-slung black velvet hip-hugger pants to go with the purple bra, too. Will you wear them to the club when you dance and tell all your friends to order some?”
    “Ohh, velvet pants,” she cooed.