“Yes, good for you, Clementine. I read your early posts. I must say that I like your writing style. It’s fresh and the topics are super inspiring. Keep it up — it will be a major hit.”
Wow, I can’t believe this. The dean of Parsons actually reads my blog. This totally cranks up my self-confidence. I smile back gratefully, feeling on top of the world.
“Thank you so much for saying that, it really means a lot. It’s competitive out there so I need all the support I can get.”
He nods and takes a sip of Perrier. “My pleasure. So what can I do for you?”
I clear my throat. I hope I don’t sweat too much in Maddie’s dress. This is hard. Come on, Clementine, you can do this. “I’d like to ask you about some Parsons student projects that have caught your attention in the past few years; ones that have really stood out.”
“Oh boy, that’s a tough question. There are so many exciting collections and new projects every year, it’s hard to pinpoint only a few. I need to be respectful of the entire student body.” He winks.
Rats. He didn’t take the bait.
“Right.” I think of backing down and changing the subject but this is no time to give up. Come on, Clementine, you’re like your mother: determined and feisty as hell, remember?
“I understand. I just want to highlight the impressive talent that comes through this school so that it gets the coverage and reputation it deserves, especially internationally. I know how important it is for the school to attract foreign students …”
His eyes light up. “Ah yes, that’s true. A large part of our student body does come from abroad. Just like you. Well … let’s see, there was a jewellery designer from Kenya whose collection was so magnificent that several actresses wore her pieces at last year’s Cannes Film Festival.”
“Oh! That’s exactly what I was looking for! Do you have any press clippings about that, by any chance?”
“Yes, we keep everything. I’ll have my assistant look it up for you in the student archives.”
“And what about Asia? Have you had any superstars coming from there?” I ask tentatively.
“As you know, some of our top students come from Asia. There was Wu Fung, who won the womenswear competition two years ago. Her metallic sweaters were out of this world. No one had ever seen anything like them before. She’s now working at Chanel in Paris.”
“Wow, fantastic!” I say, taking notes. “Any others? Any men?” Keep it up, Clementine, you’re on a roll.
“Ah yes, there’s this really talented young man from South Korea, I forget his name, who made some funky decals to wear on shoes, hats, and cellphones. If I remember correctly, he had an entire spread in Vogue Nippon and won some prizes for his original accessories.”
Bingo. Here we are. I can’t believe I did it. I mentally pat myself on the back.
“Wow, I’d love to feature him on my blog. Is there any way I could get some more information?” I ask, a little insistently. But not too much; I don’t want this to backfire.
“Um, sure, hold on a sec. I hate forgetting student names … I’ll be right back.” He stands up and heads off to ask his assistant for help.
I know what he’s looking for and what he’ll find: an empty student folder, thanks to Stella.
I smile inwardly. My plan is working. Keep it up, Clementine, and Stella and her bullying will be a thing of the past. I just hope this long, twisted road helps Jake find his collection. That’s all I want. That would make a newsworthy story for Bonjour Girl.
I bet it would get tons of shares and retweets, too. But I try not to think that far ahead, because ladies are discreet and know when to put fashionable, sparkly silver duct tape on it.
The dean rushes back into his office looking frazzled. “This is really strange. We can’t find it! It’s gone!”
“I’m sorry? What do you mean?”
“The contents of that Korean student’s file have disappeared.”
“Really? That’s … surprising.” I try to keep a straight face. It’s not easy.
“Yes, it is. I asked my assistant to look into the adjacent files, just in case documents were misplaced, and there’s nothing in any of them either. I can’t believe they’ve gone missing.” He places his Dior reading glasses on the tip of his nose and types up a quick e-mail message. I assume it has something to do with the folder and remain quiet while he sends it off.
I’m proud that my shrewd tactic led to this. I couldn’t just come out and tell him about Stella, not when she has those pictures of me.
“I have no idea how this could have happened. We keep such a tight ship around here,” James says, looking lost in thought. “It looks as though we may have a record-keeping issue that needs addressing. Anyway, I’ll have to get back to you about this, Clementine. I’m really sorry.”
“No problem. There’s no rush. This can wait.”
“I expect that you’ll keep this to yourself. The last thing I need is for this to get out.”
“Yes, of course. You can count on my discretion.”
“Good — I know you’re a trustworthy young lady. A lot of weird stuff has happened around here in the last few years. Anyway, take care of yourself, Clementine. Not everyone around here is as nice or loyal as you are.” I almost crack up laughing. No kidding. I could write a book about it.
“Did you have any other questions for me?” he asks. I know he’s waiting for me to leave his office so he can get back to work.
“Umm … is there anything you’d like to add about the future of the Parsons fashion program?” May as well finish the interview properly. The truth is that I have what I need and would be content leaving his office quickly, but I don’t want to be impolite.
“I believe our school is attracting the brightest and most creative minds out there. Students committed to creating the change that the industry so desperately needs. That includes you and your project, Clementine. Thanks for sharing your broad and inclusive vision with the world.”
I’m thrilled the dean is taking notice. I try not to blush but it’s close to impossible.
“Thank you, James. I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me today.” I smile gratefully. “I’ll send you a draft of our interview before posting it online. Can I assume your assistant will send me details about the Korean designer?”
“Yes, yes of course. Just wait a second while I remind her …” James walks out of his office. Here’s the chance I was hoping for — is it really this simple? I get goosebumps and feel a cold drop of sweat trickle down my back.
I need to act fast but for some reason I remain paralyzed. Maybe it’s because I’m about to destroy someone’s academic future.
Am I game to execute my plan? I have less than five seconds to do it before the dean gets back. In those brief but vivid seconds, I get flashbacks of how horrible I felt after reading Stella’s nasty tweets, how devastated Jake was when he found out about his collection, and how Ellie almost gave up showing her spectacular couture because of her low self-esteem. All because of Stella’s relentless bullying.
I can’t back down. Not now. Come on Clementine, it’s time to do this.
I pull out the evidence: a photo Ellie took of Stella ripping up the Korean designer’s record. I place it in the middle of the dean’s desk along with a brochure of Stella’s fashion decals.
Just as I’m about to turn around and leave, there’s a buzzing from the dean’s cell on the desk nearby. I nearly jump out of my skin. I can’t help but read the text message.
Hi hon! Made a rezzy at your fave place for dinner in the Village. Can’t wait to see you tonight, xoxo
I gasp when I see who it’s from: Maddie. And with that, I run out of the office with my heart in my chest, confident that I played my cards right and thrilled for my fairy godmother, too.
Chapter Forty-Two
I decide to shut off my phone, at least for a few minutes, while we talk privately. I know there will be a shitstorm coming my way after James, Maddie, and Stella find out what I’ve done.
This might get ugly so I need to prepare my squad.
“Sure I will. I know you’re capable of anything, sista. You’ve got that witchy woman vibe going on. You inherited superpowers from Cécile.”
Jake takes a large gulp of his bubble tea and stares at me quizzically. He looks much calmer than he has in the last few days. I guess he’s come to terms with the situation. Luckily for him, I have not.
“I’m wearing Cécile’s necklace for guidance and protection,” I say. “I sure needed the extra boost to leave a photo of Stella destroying student records on the dean’s desk.”
Jake drops his cup of bubble tea to the floor. Its contents splatter everywhere. Thankfully, I jump back in time to avoid getting any on Maddie’s dress.
“SAY WHAT? YOU DID NOT!” His eyes grow as wide as saucers.
“I swear. On Cécile’s grave, I did!” I’m about to kneel down to wipe up the spilled tea but Jake moves me aside.
“OMG! Let me do that, for god’s sake! You’re going to ruin your dress!” After cleaning up his own mess, he stands up and gives me a warm, enveloping hug.
“Holy shit, Clem. That was very gutsy. I’m so proud of you! How did you manage that?”
“It’s a long story, but let’s just say I caught the dean’s attention at the right time and at the right place.”
“I bet you did. Well, now we’re getting somewhere …” He fist bumps me. “This will get her expelled … and should help me get my collection back pronto.”
“Mm-hmm. I hope so.”
“You look worried, sugar plum. Why the long face?”
“Stella’s the girl who never quits, remember? She’s like the evil Energizer bunny.”
“Who cares? She’s going down. There are no two ways about it. Have you heard anything yet?”
I show him my phone and shake my head. “It’s turned off.”
“I think you need to turn that baby on. It’s party time.”
He’s right. I go for a last sip of my tea, take a deep breath, and then turn my phone back on. My hands shake as numerous notifications pop up on the screen, including one I’ve been expecting:
Clementine!! Where are you???? We need to talk in my office NOW!
It’s Maddie.
“Hi,” I say meekly, walking into Maddie’s office.
As expected, James is there, too. Maddie quickly shuts the door. She nods for me to take a seat. I cross my legs and take a deep breath. I try to make myself comfortable as I have a feeling this may take a while.
“Where did you find this?” She points to the incriminating photo of Stella.
I look up at them. I’m shaking, I’m sweating. I don’t want Ellie to get in trouble.
“Do I really have to say? The photo speaks for itself, doesn’t it?”
Both James and Maddie exchange glances. I smile inwardly. I must admit that they do make a really cute couple.
“Yes, it does,” James responds calmly. He’s sitting on the corner of Maddie’s desk, with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his designer reading glasses perched on top of his head. “But we need more details, Clementine. And why go through the trouble of interviewing me for your blog if all you wanted was to show me this photo?”
I clear my throat. That’s a very good question and there’s no way around it: I need to tell the truth. Nothing else will fly.
“I did it,” I say, staring down at my shoes, “because I’m guilty of breaking into the student archives, too. I was afraid to come out and say it directly. I wanted you to see this photo first.” I’m embarrassed to admit this in front of the dean. I just hope this won’t be used against me and that I won’t be expelled.
Maddie looks at me and smiles. “Clementine’s mother is an opera singer. Theatre runs in the family.”
I grin back. She’s probably right. Drama and theatrics run deep in my blood. “I was only trying to find out why Stella was bullying me and my friend Jake, not to destroy or steal anything, I swear.”
They look at each other and then back at me.
“I know I shouldn’t have done it. Now I’m trying to do what’s right.”
James uncrosses his arms, leans forward, and pats me on the shoulder gently, as if to reassure me. “Good going, Clementine. Doing the right thing is always the best course of action.”
What a relief — it’s as if a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
“I see that guts, intelligence, and determination run in your family. I’m impressed and I commend you for bringing this to our attention. You can breathe now. I’ll take over from here.” He stands, putting on his jacket and winking at Maddie on his way out.
Phew. This was a major gamble, but it worked out. I should know something about taking risks: it runs in my family. My dad took risks by launching a business in a new country and by marrying my dramatic and unpredictable mother. She took some professional risks (and personal ones, too — but I’m trying to move past that) to become the renowned singer she is. In my heart, I know they would be proud, and so would Cécile.
“Well done,” Maddie says with a grin.
“Does that mean I still have a place to live?”
She smirks. I try to guess what she’s thinking. Is she proud, embarrassed, or ashamed?
“Of course you do. But you’re sailing close to the wind, my dear; tone it down a notch, okay? I want no more drama in my life or in my home.” This lightens the mood — I can breathe easy. I’m not going to end up on the street after all. I’m relieved Maddie trusts my better judgment. I just need to make sure it lasts.
Chapter Forty-Three
I sit across from Jonathan at Brigitte, an art-filled restaurant in Chinatown renowned for its cool design. It’s a favourite hangout among fashionistas and bloggers and appears regularly on Instagram. I feel right at home in this modern and colourful decor. It’s the perfect place to meet on a Friday morning.
After the whole Stella ordeal, I’m thrilled to be spending time with Jonathan. We’re enjoying some café au lait and a delicious breakfast.
Maddie and James asked that I stay away from Parsons today while they meet with Stella to tell her that she’s being expelled. Deep down, I’m feeling really anxious about it, but I try not to show it. Instead, I stuff my face with avocado toast.
I hardly slept last night after I found out about the meeting. I played out all kinds of scary scenarios in my mind, including one where Stella hires a hit man to finish me off. Her empire is about to crumble and I know she won’t go down without a good fight. I need to remind myself that Stella is the master of her own destiny. I had nothing to do with her unethical behaviour.
I take a sip of my coffee and try to forget about it. I need to concentrate on the beautiful man sitting in front of me.
“Finally, some well-deserved time alone.”
“Yes. Finally indeed.” Jonathan sighs and kisses my hand.
I know Jonathan’s been stressed out about work in addition to his own legal issues. I haven’t asked him about his claim yet. I don’t want to kill the moment.
“I still can’t believe what you pulled off, Clementine. You’re like the heroine in a detective novel.”
I nod. “I’m just relieved it’s over. I wasn’t trying to prove anything, I just want
ed to protect my own reputation and my blog.”
“And you managed all that without anyone’s help,” he says. “You’re much stronger and braver than I am. I’ve been leaning on Stephanie to fight my battles, but you did it on your own. You’re a champ.” He runs his finger over mine.
“I can’t afford her services anyway.” I shrug. “Maybe one day, though.”
“One day? With your blog taking off, it’ll come sooner than you think. I just hope you won’t forget me when you get famous.”
“How could I? I’m hopelessly infatuated with the hottest photographer in New York. Who also happens to be the object of lots of female attention,” I say in jest.
“I’m happy to report my skeletons have officially been pulled out of the closet. Julia finally dropped her claim against me. I just found out this morning. I wanted to tell you in person.”
“Hooray!” I lift my cup and we clink our coffees. “Here’s to getting rid of energy vampires. We should go to a Fashion Week event to celebrate! Is there some fabulous party or runway show we could attend?” I ask.
“A party? A runway show? What’s the matter? Breakfast doesn’t cut it, Miss International Fashion Blogger Extraordinaire?” Jonathan says, laughing. “Besides, Fashion Week pretty much ended yesterday.” I’m about to say that this place suits me just fine and I’m happy just chilling with him when a young girl approaches our table. She’s in her early teens and is wearing bright-red eyeglasses, a black and white polka-dot vintage dress, a topknot in her hair, and ballerina flats. She approaches our table shyly and Jonathan addresses her first.
“Hello there. Can we help you?”
She turns to me. “Um, I wanted to talk to you, Clementine. I’m a major fan of Bonjour Girl … so I just, um, wanted to say bonjour and ask if we could take a selfie.” She holds out her cellphone and I blush with pride. I have a fan! A real fan! Jonathan grins and gives me the thumbs-up.
Bonjour Girl Page 20
