Chapter 13 - THE WOMAN WHO REFUSED TO BE SMALL
Beatrice reopened her tailoring shop six weeks later.
The broken window had been replaced.
The floor repaired.
The old cutting table restored.
Samuel Whitcomb sat near the front window, reading a newspaper.
He had begun helping with small repairs.
His hands were slower than before.
But his smile was the same.
Beatrice watched him thread a needle.
“You're doing it wrong.”
Samuel looked offended.
“I taught you how to sew.”
She laughed.
“And I've improved the method.”
He smiled.
For years, she'd imagined what it would feel like to have her father home.
Now the reality was quieter than she'd expected.
Breakfast together.
Arguments over coffee.
Old stories.
The comfort of another person moving through the shop.
Dominic visited every Friday.
At first, he claimed he needed alterations.
Then he began bringing coffee.
Then pastries.
Then flowers.
Beatrice noticed.
She pretended not to.
One afternoon, he arrived carrying a navy jacket.
She examined it.
“What's wrong with this one?”
“Nothing.”
She looked up.
“Then why are you here?”
Dominic smiled.
“I wanted to see you.”
Beatrice stared.
For a moment, she didn't know what to say.
She had spent much of her life being overlooked.
Men had mocked her size.
Customers had assumed she lacked sophistication because she worked with her hands.
Even the guard who brought her to Dominic had treated her like furniture.
Now one of Chicago's most powerful men stood in her shop looking nervous.
She folded her arms.
“Dominic Russo, are you asking me on a date?”
He laughed.
“Trying to.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Poorly.”
He smiled.
“I'm out of practice.”
Beatrice looked at him.
Then said:
“One dinner.”
His expression brightened.
“One dinner.”
She pointed at him.
“No bodyguards at the table.”
“Agreed.”
“No business calls.”
“Agreed.”
“And if you insult my cooking—”
Dominic laughed.
“I wouldn't dare.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
Their first dinner was awkward.
Dominic chose a small Italian restaurant.
Beatrice ordered pasta.
He ordered the same.
They talked about ordinary things.
Books.
Music.
Her father's recovery.
Anthony's rehabilitation.
For the first time, Dominic didn't speak like a boss.
He listened.
When Beatrice told him about being mocked for her weight, he looked ashamed.
“I've heard men speak that way.”
She nodded.
“Most women have.”
He looked down.
“I didn't always stop them.”
Beatrice studied him.
“Then start.”
He nodded.
“I will.”
She smiled.
The conversation moved on.
But something important had changed.
Dominic wasn't trying to impress her with wealth.
He wasn't asking her to become someone else.
May you like
He was learning to see her.
And Beatrice was learning that she didn't have to make herself smaller to be loved.
