by Chloe Taylor
“First, we’ll go to the fashion institute for the tour, then check in at the hotel,” Mrs. Lovallo said.
“Are you excited to look at the school?” Zoey asked Allie.
“We looked at a few liberal arts colleges over the summer, but this is my first fashion design school. Dad thinks I should get a liberal arts education before I focus on fashion.” Allie sighed. “You know, ‘just in case.’ ”
“My dad is the same way,” Zoey said. “But my aunt Lulu said that I should follow my dream and do what I really feel passionate about. It seems to have worked for her!”
The fashion design school seemed like heaven on Earth to Zoey as they toured it. She couldn’t believe that there was a place where she could go to school to learn all the ins and outs of making and designing clothes and running a fashion business.
There were whole rooms filled with sewing machines and dress forms, and a fashion library where students could research the history of design.
“I want to apply here when I have to think about going to college!” Zoey exclaimed. “I wish I could go now instead of having to wait.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty exciting to think about being able to spend more time on learning about the things I’m really interested in,” Allie agreed.
“Now that we’re done here, let’s check in to the hotel,” Mrs. Lovallo said. “I’ve got a surprise for you both before the opening tonight.”
After they’d put their bags in the hotel room and hung up their dresses for the opening, Mrs. Lovallo took the girls down the street to a beauty salon.
“I booked us all appointments to get our hair and nails done,” she said. “It’s not every day a girl gets to walk the red carpet!”
“Thank you!” Zoey said.
Allie and Zoey helped each other pick out polish colors for their nails, and they were seated at adjacent manicurists while Mrs. Lovallo got her hair done.
“Zoey,” Allie asked hesitantly. “Are you mad at me?”
“No,” Zoey said, surprised at the question.
“Are you sure?” Allie persisted.
“Well . . . I guess I’m upset that your relationship with Marcus ended the way it did, but you can’t force yourself to like my brother if you like someone else,” Zoey said. “I just wish you’d been more honest with him, is all.”
“So . . . why didn’t you visit my booth at the gift fair?” Allie asked.
“What? I thought you were avoiding me!” Zoey said. “And things got so busy.”
“I was busy, too,” Allie said. “But I finally went to your booth because I thought you were mad at me for not lending you display materials. And we’d promised we wouldn’t let things get weird.”
“I was a little mad about that,” Zoey admitted. “I was desperate, and it seemed like you didn’t want to help that much.”
“I’m sorry,” Allie said. “It’s just that I had a plan for how I was going to display my stuff, and I didn’t know what I’d do if I gave you more. I don’t have Marcus and Aunt Lulu to come up with the great creative solutions you ended up doing.”
“But you’re more creative than most people I know!” Zoey protested. “I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t help a friend. Are you sure there wasn’t something else going on?”
Allie was silent for a moment, and then she said, “You’re right. I have a confession to make. When I read on Fashion Insider that you were going to have two pieces in Daphne Shaw’s pop-up store, I got jealous. Really jealous. I don’t know what came over me at the gift fair, but I realized later that I kind of didn’t want to share my display things because I felt like you already had so much going for you and it wasn’t fair. I feel horrible about it now—like, I’m the worst friend ever. Can you forgive me?”
Zoey was shocked at first, but then she remembered how she started to feel jealous that Ezra’s silk-screen items were selling better than her stuff. And that wasn’t nearly as big of a deal as having two of her pieces in Daphne Shaw’s pop-up store.
“I understand,” Zoey said. “I’m glad you told me the truth.”
“I’ve been feeling really bad about it. And then the gift fair didn’t go as well for me this year as it did last year, which just made me feel worse,” Allie confessed. “How did it go for you?”
“Pretty well,” Zoey said. “But I sold more of the scarves and headbands with Ezra’s silk-screened paintings than I did of my own clothing designs. I guess they were right about clothes not selling so well at the gift fair.”
“Those scarves were cool,” Allie said. “But what I really want to know is . . . do you hate me now that I told you all that?”
“Of course not!” Zoey said. “We all have our moments. If it wasn’t for you and your mom, I wouldn’t be going to the opening at all, and I’m really glad you’re coming with me.”
“Me too,” Allie said. “I can’t wait. You know what, though—I think my mom’s even more excited than I am!”
Daphne sent a car to pick them up at the hotel and bring them to the department store for the opening.
“I can’t believe it’s really the night of the opening,” Zoey said. “I’ve been so busy sewing the pieces, I haven’t had that much time to get excited.”
“But you’re excited now, I hope?” Mrs. Lovallo asked.
“Yes!” Zoey exclaimed. “I’ve got butterflies!”
As soon as they walked into the store, Daphne’s assistant Jessie, who Zoey remembered from her visit to the designer’s studio, took them over to the press area, where there was a red velvet carpet, a gaggle of photographers, and a few reporters and cameramen from TV stations.
Zoey couldn’t believe this was real. She closed her eyes and opened them again to make sure everything was still there. She noticed her hands were shaking, but she didn’t know if she was more nervous or more excited.
Allie brought her back to reality. “I never realized that the red carpet was just a fake wall with a bit of carpet in front,” Allie whispered. “Crazy, right?”
“Me neither,” Zoey said. “I thought it was a really long red carpet!”
Just then Daphne slipped through the crowd and surprised Zoey. “You made it!” Daphne said, giving Zoey a big hug. She turned to Allie and Mrs. Lovallo. “And you must be Zoey’s wonderful friend Allie, and I take it you’re Mrs. Lovallo? Great to meet you both.”
Allie lit up when Daphne called her “wonderful friend,” and Zoey hoped it made up for any jealousy she might have felt earlier.
Daphne walked them on to the red carpet platform, and they posed in front of the background wall, which had the new Daphne Shaw tween logo all over it.
“Over here!” one photographer after another shouted, and Zoey, Allie, Mrs. Lovallo—and Daphne, of course—kept smiling and looking toward the cameras.
“My face hurts from smiling,” Zoey said as they walked off the carpet.
“I know how you feel,” Daphne said. “I’ve been in so many photos, I think my jaw is locked in the smile position. Now, go enjoy yourself—and make sure to try the miniquiches. They’re excellent!”
The pop-up store was a huge, white circular platform at the very center of the department store’s main floor.
“Very classy,” Mrs. Lovallo said.
“Look, Zoey! There you are!” Allie exclaimed.
Sure enough, there was a clothing rack with her skirt and top hung in a variety of sizes she’d just recently sent to Daphne. She couldn’t believe the clothes she’d made in her house not long ago were now in a real department store, with official-looking price tags attached and bar codes and everything. Above the clothes was a sign that said DESIGNS BY SEW ZOEY alongside a photo of Zoey and a small blurb that explained how Zoey and her blog had helped inspire Daphne’s tween collection.
“Let me take a picture of you girls next to Zoey’s clothing rack for Mr. Webber,” Mrs. Lovallo said.
Allie and Zoey took one serious photo, and then they goofed around and pointed at the picture of Zoey.
“I thought there were going to be just old people here, but there are a bunch of other kids,” Allie said.
“It’s the launch of a tween line, honey,” Mrs. Lovallo said. “Ms. Shaw probably wanted to invite some fashion-forward customers who might spread the word.”
“I’m glad there are other kids here,” Zoey said. “It makes it less intimidating than if it were all grown-ups.”
“Zoey!” Ceci Miller, who had been a fellow judge on Fashion Showdown, came over with one of the other judges, Christophe LeFrak. She gave Zoey air-kisses. “Congratulations!”
“Yes, it is exciting that our young judge inspired Daphne’s new line,” Christophe said. “Félicitations, ma petite.”
Zoey introduced them to Allie and her mom, and they were chatting when Oscar Bradesco, the host of Fashion Showdown, came to say hello.
Both Lovallos seemed totally starstruck to meet him. When he walked away, after kissing Mrs. Lovallo’s hand, Mrs. Lovallo said, “I can’t believe I just got air-kissed by someone I’ve seen on TV!”
Zoey’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Ezra.
How’s it going?
AMAZING! she texted back. Can’t wait to tell you all about it!
That night, when they were back at the hotel, Dad called to ask Zoey about her big night. She told him the great news: Her clothes were back-ordered in a few sizes already! They had to refill the rack from the stockroom, and were going to arrange for a vendor to manufacture the clothes to keep up with demand!
“I’m really proud of you,” he told Zoey after she’d given him a rundown of the evening’s festivities. “I wish I could have been there.”
“I know,” Zoey said. “I wish you could have been here too.”
“Listen, Zo . . . I’ve got some news. The Mystery Lady and I decided it’s time for you all to meet.”
“Wow!” Zoey said, stunned by the news. “When?”
“I invited her for dinner tomorrow night, after you get back from the city,” Dad said. “She’s really looking forward to it.”
“So am I,” Zoey said.
But after she hung up, she wasn’t so sure. If Dad decided they should meet the Mystery Lady, things must be getting superserious. Zoey wasn’t sure she was ready for that. First, Aunt Lulu was about to have a baby, and now Dad was getting serious with a woman she hadn’t even met?
She dialed Marcus’s cell.
“Hey, Zo, how was the shindig?” Marcus asked.
“It was great, but . . . did Dad tell you?”
“About meeting the Mystery Lady? Yeah. Finally!”
“I’m not sure I want to meet her,” Zoey confessed.
“What! Why not?” Marcus exclaimed. “We’ve been nagging him to introduce us for months!”
“I know . . . but do you think this means they’re going to get married?” Zoey asked. “I don’t know if I’m ready for a stepmother I’ve never met.”
“First of all, you’re going to meet her. At dinner tomorrow,” Marcus said. “And as for the stepmother thing . . . I know what you mean, but I think we have to trust Dad. I mean, he picked Mom, right?”
Zoey hadn’t thought of it that way, but once she did, she felt better. At least kind of better. So much was changing. She just hoped the Mystery Lady was all she was cracked up to be.
CHAPTER 12
What a Gift!
Well, it’s back to regular life as a middle schooler after a weekend of the fancy New York City fashion world! Sometimes I can’t believe this is my life—it’s like I won some lottery or some huge gift just by doing what I love—and then I get a pop quiz and come back to Earth. I can see the book title now: From Pop Quiz to Pop-Up Shop: The Sew Zoey Story. Ha-ha. Anyway, I was so busy I didn’t even have time to do a sketch for today’s post. Instead, check out a sketch of those scarves and headbands I made with my friend’s paintings for the gift fair. This time, I got his permission to use the images—lesson learned—and I hope you’ll think they’re as cool as I do! Also, these are the two pieces for sale in Daphne’s shop—an origami shirt and flared skirt, courtesy of yours truly.
And now for more about last night. It was an amazing time: Mrs. Lovallo treated us to mani-pedis and blowouts, which meant my hair was perfect all night. How nice was that?! The event itself was less intimidating than I thought it would be, because there were other kids my age there—and I got to see Christophe LeFrak and Ceci Miller, my fellow judges from Fashion Showdown, as well as Oscar Bradesco, who hosted when I was a judge. I just missed meeting Daphne Shaw on that occasion—but now I have my clothes in her pop-up shop! It goes to show that you never know how one thing can lead to another . . . .
When Zoey got back to Mapleton on Sunday afternoon, she got a phone call from Ezra, who sounded superexcited.
“Guess what! Your friend Jan bought one of my paintings for her store!” he said. “I’ve never sold a painting before. . . . I’m officially a working artist!”
“Awesome!” Zoey said. “Looks like Marcus’s postcards worked.”
“Thanks again for doing the scarves and headbands,” Ezra said. “I know I kind of freaked out at first, but I’m really glad you did it. We did pretty well with them, didn’t we?”
“Yeah—I was nervous about not making enough to cover the cost of the booth, but thanks to your accessories, it wasn’t a problem,” Zoey said. “That reminds me, I have to give you your share of the profits.”
“Do you want to get together after school this week? I want to hear all about the opening, too!” Ezra said.
They arranged to get together on Wednesday, and Zoey hung up just as Dad called, asking her to come downstairs and help him. He was busy preparing for dinner with the Mystery Lady, and Zoey could tell he was nervous by the way he wanted everything to be just so.
“What tablecloth should I use?” he asked, holding up two different ones.
“We haven’t used a tablecloth since . . . I can’t remember when,” Zoey said. “But if I had to choose, I’d say that one.” She pointed to the cotton one with embroidered flowers.
“Can you and Marcus set the table and make it look nice?” Dad asked. “Make sure you use cloth napkins and not paper ones.”
Marcus and Zoey exchanged glances.
“Sure, Dad,” Zoey said. “Real napkins it is.”
“Uh, Dad?” Marcus said. “It’s just dinner, not a presidential banquet.”
“You might just be right,” Dad said, “but I really want tonight to go well.”
“Chill, Dad,” Zoey said. “It’ll be fine.
“It’s actually kind of cute how nervous he is, isn’t it, Zo?” Marcus said.
Dad laughed.
“Go ahead and tease,” he warned. “I’ll remember this when you both are nervous about introducing your significant others to me!”
When the doorbell rang at six o’clock, Dad jumped up to answer the door before Zoey and Marcus could even think about it. They waited in the kitchen, hearing muffled voices as Dad greeted his guest.
“What’s taking them so long?” Marcus whispered to Zoey when they hadn’t come into the kitchen after a few minutes.
“Do you think she changed her mind about meeting us at the last minute?” Zoey whispered back.
“No way,” Marcus replied in a low voice. “We’ve waited too long.”
He called out into the hallway, “Hey, Dad? Are you coming? We don’t want dinner to get overcooked!”
“Be right there,” Dad called back.
Zoey’s heart started beating faster in anticipation of seeing the woman who might, one day, maybe, become her stepmother.
Dad walked back into the kitchen. Behind him was . . . Ms. Austen?
Zoey was confused. Why was her principal visiting her house at dinnertime on Sunday? She couldn’t think of anything she’d done wrong at all, much less something that would be bad enough to require a home visit from the head of the school.
Zoey was in the middle of admiring Ms. Austen’s flouncy dress—whi
ch was tailored and tasteful but less buttoned-up than her usual attire as school principal—when suddenly it dawned on her that something big was happening. “Wait . . . Ms. Austen is the Mystery Lady?” she blurted out.
“I am,” Ms. Austen said, smiling as Dad put his arm across her shoulders. “I hope you both understand now why your dad and I felt like it was best we kept things discreet until we had a better idea of where this was going.”
Zoey couldn’t have been more surprised. But then she thought back to the day when her dad and Ms. Austen shared an animated and very smiley conversation in the parking lot at school when Dad was waiting for her . . . and how the person who picked the baby present for Aunt Lulu’s shower had such great taste . . . and how Dad had a date at the art museum . . . and suddenly the pieces fell into place.
“It does make more sense,” Zoey admitted.
“Yeah, I can see how it would be awkward for you—and for Zoey!” Marcus said. “But I’ve only heard great things about you, Ms. Austen, for the record.”
Ms. Austen smiled warmly. “Likewise, Marcus. And you can call me Essie, if you want.”
Marcus shrugged, and Zoey stepped in. “Can we stick with ‘Ms. Austen’ for now?” Zoey asked. “This is already kind of weird, and I think it’ll be weirder to call you by your first name!”
“Whatever works for you,” Ms. Austen said kindly.
Zoey remembered when she’d first seen that name way back when she’d first learned about the change in the uniform policy in a letter from her school’s new principal, Ms. Esther Austen. She never would have guessed that this one person could change so much in her own life in a short time, and maybe for the better.
As they ate dinner and she watched Ms. Austen and Dad smiling at each other, Zoey wondered if her school principal—who apparently went by the name “Essie”—was going to be her new stepmom.
It wouldn’t be so bad, Zoey thought. She loved Ms. Austen, and they had a lot in common—they both loved fashion and, it seemed, her dad. And she hadn’t seen her dad this happy in as long as she could remember.
