Simple, really.
The man seemed to think it was more complicated. “You thought it was a good idea to deceive all your customers? Everyone in the industry?”
“We weren’t purposefully deceiving them. We were still delivering everything they wanted. The only difference was I was designing the clothes instead of Holly.”
He crinkled his nose like he suddenly smelled something bad. Perhaps somebody had a burrito for lunch. “Why didn’t you merely wait another two years until you were old enough to do it yourself?”
Patience wasn’t my middle name. “Because we were told our clothes were good enough now. We didn’t want to wait any longer.”
His eyes flicked to my co-accused. “And you two agree with this story?” They both nodded. He shuffled the papers laid out on the table in front of him, buying some time and ramping up the anticipation by a thousand percent.
I chewed on my lip so I wouldn’t say anything more. I wanted to throw myself across the room at him, begging and pleading for mercy. I wanted to make it clear that I had never wanted anything as badly as I wanted to be a fashion designer. I wanted him to know it was a life or death situation he held in his hands.
But instead, I sat there like a well behaved teenager. I took my lead from Jane, politely holding my hands together on the table and not fidgeting. It was difficult to do.
The room was so quiet I thought for sure the others would be able to hear my heartbeat pounding away in my chest.
Finally, the man licked his lips before taking a breath. “I have your written answers and it doesn’t seem like you’ve got anything further to add. We will deliberate and advise you in writing of the outcome. Until then, you are forbidden from partaking in anything in the fashion industry. Do you understand?”
What? Was he going to throw us in fashion jail? They probably had the best uniforms in the world.
We nodded all together, like three bobble-headed toys. After another threat disguised as advice, we were dismissed. We walked out of the room like prisoners sent back to jail to await a sentence.
Silence filled the car as we drove home. Holly left us for her own apartment as Jane and I stumbled next door to my place. Mom had taken my two brothers and baby sister out for some groceries, leaving everything unusually quiet.
We slumped onto the couch. Everything felt hopeless. “They’re not going to let us continue. Everyone on that council panel hated us, I could tell. Every Girl Inc is over.”
Jane shrugged. “But we haven’t done anything wrong. Our customers love us. I’ve lost count of how many messages of support we’ve been sent.”
“It doesn’t matter, we did the wrong thing in their eyes. We pretended Holly was something she wasn’t. I bet they only care because we fooled them. Two sixteen year olds proved that we had what it takes to do an adult’s job.”
“You think they’ll ban us out of revenge?” Jane asked incredulously. Clearly, she had no idea how petty people could be. Lucky I knew otherwise.
“It wouldn’t surprise me. They want to make sure only special people get to be designers. And I’m not special.”
Jane bumped me with her shoulder, a grin spreading across her lips. “I think you’re special.”
I let out a laugh. Who would have thought I would be friends with someone like Jane Davis one day? I certainly didn’t. I tended to avoid nerds and brains. If she couldn’t sew, we’d never have spoken a word to each other.
“For the record,” I started. “I think you’re pretty special too. Which is exactly why they won’t let Every Girl Inc continue. They’ll shut us down.”
Before we could continue with our misery-fest, someone knocked on the door. I answered it, finding Holly on the other side.
She held up an opened envelope as she hurried inside. “You have to read this.”
I took the envelope, pulled out the letter printed on expensive cream paper, and started scanning through. As I did, Jane read over my shoulder.
Dear Every Girl Inc,
I speak with the authority of Fashion Week Paris. I hereby formally invite you to partake in our celebrations of all things fashion during the period 4 March to 11 March.
As a cutting edge fashion event, we feel your company would be ideal to showcase with our designers of the future where we celebrate outstanding young achievers.
Please confirm your attendance with our office as soon as possible to book your runway and preparation area. As you will be our invited guests, no payment is required for your attendance.
Yours sincerely,
August DePeriere
Oh. My. God.
CHAPTER 2
“Someone pinch me,” I said. My hands were starting to shake. I had to pass the letter to Jane in case I dropped it. Or it disappeared in a ball of flames because it didn’t really exist.
“I’m not pinching you,” Holly replied.
Jane pinched me.
It hurt. I wasn’t asleep.
“Is this really from the Fashion Week Paris organizers? Seriously?” Because, surely, it was just a joke?
“Look at the envelope,” Holly said, shoving the matching cream slip in front of me. “It’s postmarked Paris, France. It’s the real deal. They want Every Girl Inc to be their special guests.”
For just a moment, I allowed myself to dream about that. Paris Fashion Week was the most spectacular fashion event in the world. They only let the biggest and best designers take part. To be invited, as their guest was something phenomenal.
Our clothes would be shown on the best runway with all the best people in the industry. We would be equal to the biggest fashion houses in the world. Famous people would see our clothes. Designers such as Stella McCartney, Versace, Chanel would see our clothes.
It was a dream come true. If our show went well, it could cement my entire future as a fashion designer. Jane would be able to bask in the success of our company.
A great show would lead to even more great things. We could make connections, work with actual, real stores to carry our line.
Everything could lead to making money. I could make my family’s position better, make it so my mom wouldn’t have to work such ridiculously long hours and she could spend more time at home. We wouldn’t have to struggle over every last dollar, we wouldn’t have to dread every bill that arrived. We wouldn’t have to cross our fingers and pray we’d make rent for another month.
All those thoughts raced through my mind at a million miles an hour. It felt better than winning lotto. In a way it was, it guaranteed my future.
It proved that dreams could come true.
In the next instant, I turned it all off. The invitation would be void if Every Girl Inc was forcibly closed. Paris Fashion Week wouldn’t want to know us if we were a disgrace.
The sky fell down around me, crashing through all my hopes and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The world was shattered around me.
“They probably don’t know about the fraud charges,” I said, slumping back on the couch. “They won’t want anything to do with us when they find out and the council will probably shut us down anyway.”
Holly rolled her eyes. “You didn’t look close enough. The postmark is dated almost a week after the news got out. They know all about it.”
“So we just need the council to let us keep going,” Jane said. “And then we’re free to go to Paris!”
Yeah, simple. Not.
I made hot chocolates for everyone as we sat around feeling sorry for ourselves. I had hoped the chocolate would help lift our spirits but there wasn’t enough cocoa in the world for that.
I told my mother everything when she came home. It was a condition of my new, enforced, full disclosure policy. If I was caught lying to her again, my butt would be in huge trouble.
And, if by some miracle we weren’t closed down, I would need her permission to fly halfway around the world. I was going to be on my best behavior for a while.
As the days passed, we didn’t hear anything fr
om the fashion council. I hurried home from school every afternoon and rifled through the mail but there was never anything there.
By that stage, I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign. Whatever it was, I just needed to know. Paris Fashion Week was creeping closer by the day and I could not bear the thought of missing it.
My desperation was growing by the hour. My life existed as if on a tightrope and I was going to fall off at any moment. I was snapping at my siblings, not paying attention in class, and unable to focus on anything other than what the council were deciding.
By day five, that tightrope was about to split in the middle.
“We have to give the Paris Fashion Week organizers an answer,” I said, sitting in the media lab with Jane and Beau – our website guru. “If we don’t, they’ll think our answer is no.”
Jane gripped her agenda so tightly I thought it was going to tear into pieces. “We don’t know for sure if the council will let us continue. We can’t say yes and then pull out later on. It’s rude.”
Beau watched us go back and forth like we were playing a tennis match. He knew when to stay out of our arguments.
“We can’t lose our spot,” I shot back.
“We can’t lie and say we’ll be there only to not show up.”
“Maybe the council will let us continue and then we’ll be there.”
“We’ll earn a terrible reputation if we don’t show,” Jane continued to argue.
I huffed under my breath, things were starting to get a little heated. It was only the frustration boiling over, we both knew not to take it personally.
“Uh, girls,” Beau said, finally interrupting. He held up his hand like he was waving a white peace flag. “There might be a way around this.”
We both turned to face him. He gulped.
“Why don’t you tell the Paris Fashion Week people that you can come on the condition the council lets you? That way they’ll understand if you have to pull out and it will reserve your place,” he explained.
Smart guy.
I tried to find the holes in the plan, the weaknesses that would make everything explode on us. I couldn’t find any. Except… “What about if they won’t accept the condition? I mean, we need them much more than they need us.”
Jane was the one who replied. “I guess it won’t matter. If they say no, then we’re no worse off than we are now and at risk of losing our spot.”
“Exactly,” Beau agreed, flashing her a huge, stupid grin. I badly wanted to roll my eyes but managed to control myself. I was getting good at it around those two.
“Okay, so who speaks French?” I asked. The letter we had received was in English, but I got the feeling our request would be better received if it was in their native language. Like we were showing respect or something.
I completely expected Jane, who was a teacher’s dream, to be able to speak several languages. So when both she and Beau shook their heads, my jaw almost dropped all the way to the floor.
“Seriously?”
“I took Spanish,” Jane said defensively. Beau just shrugged.
“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll deal with the response. What do we do about our spokes model competition?”
“With the business up in the air, I don’t think we should do anything.”
I couldn’t disagree there. Who would want to be the face of a business about to be shut down? Not me, that’s for sure.
“Agreed. Beau, will you take it off the website?” I waited until I received a head nod. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”
I picked up my things and stuffed them in my bag, leaving the love birds to it. They were still yet to go on their first date, I think they were both too embarrassed to bring it up again. They were too shy for their own good.
Stalking down the school corridors, I headed for the language center. Kinsey used to be in the French club so I knew they met there once a week. Luckily, today was that day.
Sure enough, a group of students were sitting around in a circle. At least two of them wore berets. I lingered in the doorway until I caught their attention. When all sets of eyes were on me, I gave them my most endearing smile.
“Who wants to help me out with something?” I put to the group.
They didn’t reply.
Crickets.
“It’s just translating an email for me.”
Uncomfortable silence.
Then some awkwardness.
And then, finally, “Come on in,” Kinsey said, letting out a long sigh. Hayley was going to be so angry if she found out. For Kinsey’s sake, I hope she didn’t.
I sat with the entire group as I dictated and then they typed directly into my email account. It briefly crossed my mind that they could have been writing anything and I wouldn’t know it. If Kinsey was evil, she’d write something horrible just to ensure I didn’t get invited back to Paris Fashion Week.
But the thought went just as quickly again. The others in the class didn’t have a reason to sabotage me and Kinsey was never really that mean.
We finished the email and I sent it off. My hand shook a little hitting the send button but it had to be done. We couldn’t leave them waiting forever, they would think we weren’t interested in attending.
And we were seriously interested.
I double checked the media lab afterwards and it was empty. It looked like I was riding the bus that afternoon, my taxi had already left.
Hurrying down the corridors, a familiar voice called out my name. “Truly.”
My stomach did a back flip, its usual response when Chace was nearby. I turned around. “Hey, Chace.”
He jogged the last few steps to catch up with me, his backpack hitched over one shoulder. His chocolate colored hair was flopping into his eyes. It took another huge display of control not to brush it back for him.
“I was hoping to see you today,” he started. I could have drowned in his light blue eyes. And it would have been totally worth it.
I held my hands out at my sides. “Ta-da! Here I am.”
God, I was so lame.
Chace actually laughed, probably out of sympathy. “Here you are indeed. If I recall correctly, you owe me a date. If I didn’t know better, I would think you might be avoiding me so you could wriggle out of it.”
“I’m not avoiding you.” Which was the truth. I had been so caught up in all the dramas with Every Girl Inc that it had eclipsed everything else in my life.
Which was saying something, because I normally prioritized cute boys above everything else. Perhaps I was actually growing as a person.
“I’ve just been busy,” I added, for good measure. It sounded like an excuse – and not a good one at that – but it was all I had.
And, for bonus points, the honest truth.
There was no way to tell if Chace believed me or not, but he continued anyway. “Okay. So how about this Saturday night? If you’re not doing anything, we could get some pizza or something.”
My tongue was suddenly tied in a knot.
I don’t know what was wrong with me. I had been on dates before, it wouldn’t be my first. But with Chace looking at me, his eyes so intense and beautiful, a thousand worries and panic shot through me.
Now I knew how Jane felt.
I was a quivering mess but it appeared nothing would snap me out of it. If I went out with Chace, I figured this awkward moment would stretch for hours.
But maybe there was a way to avoid that. “Saturday sounds great, we can double date with my friends. Do you mind if we have them come along too?”
I held my breath, counting all the moments that passed until Chace said something.
One Mississippi.
Two Mississippi.
I’d ruined it. He wasn’t going to say anything.
CHAPTER 3
“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” Chace said, a little put off by my suggestion.
If I wasn’t lame before, I sure was now. Good one, Truly. Good. One.
“It will be. You’ll reall
y like Jane and Beau, they’re both nice.” My smile had got me out of many bouts of trouble in my life and I hoped it was having the desired effect right now as I threw it at Chace.
He nodded. “Great. Now that’s settled, are you on your way to the bus stop?”
“I am. Care to join me?”
“It would be my pleasure.” He bowed like a knight in shining armor. How was it he managed to be so adorable and I was just a bumbling fool?
The impending date didn’t come up again except for Chace to mention he’d text me with details so I could confirm them with Jane and Beau. I analyzed his reaction in minute detail all the way home.
I went through my usual routine when I entered the apartment. I cut myself twice while cutting up the vegetables for dinner because my mind kept wandering. I was already thinking of what I should wear on Saturday night. I had a pretty small closet, my options were very limited, which was ironic considering I kind of owned a fashion line.
Maybe I could design something for the date? I might be able to convince Jane into making it up for me before the weekend.
Or maybe not. I still had to convince her to double date with me. I had texted both her and Beau but neither had responded. It was killing me.
“Oww.” Another nick with the knife.
“Maybe you should be more careful,” Billy said sarcastically. Just what I needed, a seven year old making fun of me.
“You can do it if you know everything,” I replied. He poked his tongue out at me and ran off. Lily sat in her highchair and giggled at my pain.
Kids.
My peaceful time came and I sat down to do my homework. I couldn’t get into it, I was buzzing with creativity that needed to be let out of its cage.
I picked up my sketchbook and let loose. In the background of my designs, little Eiffel Towers kept appearing. My mind drifted as I imagined these outfits on the Paris runway.
Fashion Fraud Collection Page 15
