"The bespoke shop you mentioned... it’s not the one by Tidewater Bridge, is it?" Grace Winslow asked uncertainly.

After all, she’d been away for half a year, so she wasn’t sure if someone else had opened another bespoke shop. If so, it would be quite the mix-up.

Dylan Lockwood looked astonished. "How did you know? Oh, right, you’re a designer too. Perhaps you know them? Could you introduce me?"

Grace Winslow looked resigned. "Oh, that shop is run by my sisters-in-law. Has it gotten that big?"

"It’s doing exceptionally well. Many of Coronet’s socialites go there for custom pieces. Their selling point is that every item is one-of-a-kind—you won’t find another like it in the entire city—so they have a ton of customers. They’ve already opened eight branches, and the orders just keep pouring in."

"I hear their waitlist is already two years long. They don’t have enough tailors, which is why I want to partner with them."

Dylan Lockwood nodded, his voice filled with admiration as he spoke.

As a businessman himself, he knew exactly what an opportunity like this represented.

If Hayley was willing to add production lines and partner with him, the potential for future business would be staggering.

They could even open branches all across the country.

Grace Winslow mulled it over for a moment, not entirely sold on Dylan Lockwood’s grand vision. "Mr. Lockwood, you may not get what you’re hoping for. Starting a bespoke business was my idea, and I never planned on collaborating with anyone. If your idea of a partnership involves setting up production lines to mass-produce clothing, then there’s nothing for us to discuss. It would be pointless to talk to my sister-in-law, either. This is non-negotiable."

"Do you know why bespoke is so popular right now? I spent some time abroad studying fashion design, and I learned that the concept of bespoke service was already taking hold there."

"Every piece of clothing is tailor-made to fit a person’s appearance, physique, and personal style. It’s completely unique in the world; you won’t find another."

"That’s the very reason our shop is so successful. The moment you start mass-producing, what’s the meaning of ’bespoke’ anymore?"

"Perhaps as a businessman, Mr. Lockwood, you can only see the commercial opportunity. You might not understand our dedication to beauty and the pursuit of uniqueness."

"If we don’t have enough tailors, we can find more. We can invest in training our own. There’s always a solution."

"Machine-made clothing just isn’t the same."

Dylan Lockwood hadn’t expected Grace Winslow to say that. He was stunned into silence and didn’t speak for a long time.

The car drove on slowly, eventually pulling up in front of the bustling clothing store.

The shop was in a prime location to begin with, and the storefront was large. It had taken a lot for Hayley to finally bite the bullet and buy it.

Now that business was booming, they had bought out the two adjacent stores and renovated the space to merge all three into one.

The center of the new space was filled with mannequins displaying ready-to-wear pieces, flanked by lounge areas on both sides. Sofas and coffee tables were arranged neatly, with snacks and tea available for clients. The ladies who came for custom fittings could sit here to drink tea and chat while waiting for a tailor to take their measurements and begin drafting the design.

One dress made here cost as much as several from any other store, yet countless people were still willing to pay the price, all for the promise of having something truly unique.

Grace Winslow saw firsthand just how good business was.

Hayley was up front greeting customers while Lily Callahan bustled about, so busy she didn’t even have a moment to catch her breath.

The shop had started with only three tailors. When Hayley realized they were understaffed, she spent a considerable sum to poach a few more.

Now, the entire upstairs was a studio where the tailors worked on the garments. Downstairs, their assistants and apprentices helped by taking measurements, recording them, and noting each client’s specific requests and physical characteristics.

A dedicated designer would create the initial sketch. Production would only begin after the client approved the design. The first garment made was merely a mock-up, created with entirely different, less expensive fabric. Once the client tried on the mock-up and confirmed everything was perfect, the final piece would be crafted using the high-quality material.

As for the mock-ups, they were never sold. Instead, they were put on mannequins and displayed in the shop’s windows as samples.

Although many people tried to create knock-offs of their designs, the difference in material quality was so vast that the counterfeits were easily identifiable as fakes with just one look.

For this very reason, more and more wealthy women and their daughters were willing to pay a premium for their clothes here.

Grace Winslow watched from the entrance for a moment. Hayley spotted her and waved, but before she could even say hello, she was pulled aside by another customer.

Knowing they were swamped, Grace Winslow didn’t interrupt. She said goodbye to Dylan Lockwood and headed straight home.

She had made plans to have a meal with Dylan Lockwood the next day and intended to ask Hayley to join them to discuss the partnership. When Grace Winslow and Joanne Chase walked in the door, they found the house unusually quiet.

Irene Lynch was still at the shop at this hour.

Grace Winslow and Joanne Chase were utterly exhausted. They each washed up in their rooms and immediately fell asleep.

Irene Lynch didn’t get home until a little after five. The moment she walked in, she could tell someone had come home.

She wasn’t sure who it was, but out of habit, she went to Grace Winslow’s room first. When she opened the door, she saw Grace fast asleep in her bed.

They hadn’t seen each other in more than half a year. Seeing her daughter back so suddenly, Irene Lynch’s eyes instantly welled with tears.

’This silly girl... why come home without even stopping by the shop to let me know? She’s sleeping so soundly, and she’s gotten so much thinner. She must be exhausted.’ Looking at how Grace Winslow’s face had clearly slimmed down, Irene Lynch’s heart ached for her.

Careful not to disturb Grace Winslow, she quietly left the room and went to the kitchen to start dinner.

Hayley and Lily Callahan closed up the shop and came over a little after six.

Knowing Grace Winslow and Joanne Chase were back, they had picked up plenty of groceries on the way over.

"Hayley, Lily, where are my brothers? I don’t see them around." Grace Winslow emerged with a yawn. She saw only Hayley and Lily Callahan, and not even the kids were around, which made her curious.

"Your brothers went to buy raw gemstones. They’ve opened their own shop selling jade, and business is quite good. They just left for the southern province two days ago to source more raw stone. If I’d known you two were coming back, I would’ve done anything to stop them from leaving."

"They’ll be gone for at least half a month this time," Hayley replied with a smile. She came forward, took Grace Winslow’s hands, and studied her for a moment before remarking, "You’ve gotten thinner."

"Of course I did," Grace Winslow said with a grin. "How could I not get thinner when I can’t eat Mom’s cooking?"

Just then, Irene Lynch came in carrying a dish of food. Hearing her daughter’s words, she couldn’t help but laugh and tease, "So you only get thin when you can’t eat my cooking? What are you going to do when you get married? You think you can come home for dinner every day then?"