Bead-Dazzled (20 page)

“Well, you can let me handle the show part while you handle the fashion,” Charlie argued. “If you’d stop being so bossy and listen—”

“Me? Bossy?” Emma was amazed. How could she boss anyone if she didn’t know what she was doing? Couldn’t he see how confused she was? “I’m not bossy. If you want to see bossy, you should check out Lexie in my Western Civ group.”

“Sounds to me like the two of you would get along great. Both self-absorbed.”

“You did not say I was just like Lexie? Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“It’s totally different. Allegra’s my thing. I need to put the pieces together—”

“And what about me? Where do I fit in?” Charlie demanded.

“You help me when I need it. You always have—”

“When you need it? Like a puppy panting at your heels, begging for attention? Is that how you see me? That’s just great!” Charlie slammed his laptop closed and shoved it into his bag. His cheeks flushed pink.

“Not like that,” Emma protested. Why was Charlie twisting her words?

“You know, Emma, or should I say,
Allegra
, this used to be fun. You and me, completely in over our heads but working it out, figuring stuff out together. But all week, you’ve been pushing me aside, and I’m sick of it.”

“Sick of it how?”

“Maybe I want out.” Charlie laid down the challenge with his eyes.

Emma crossed her arms and met his gaze. “Fine, go. See if I care!”

“All right. I quit Allegra Biscotti!” He stormed out of her studio.

Emma froze, not quite believing he was leaving.

Why had she baited him like that? She hadn’t meant for him to go. She was just feeling so overwhelmed. In danger of failing her Western Civ project. Nowhere near
wow
designs for a fashion show that was going to take place in less than two weeks. Yet she stayed where she was, unable to run after Charlie. She listened to him stomp through the cavernous warehouse halls until his footsteps faded into silence.

Her dad poked his head around the metal filing cases she used as a wall. “What’s with Charlie? He barreled right past me.”

“He’s mad at me.”

“Oh?” Noah Rose stepped closer and raised his bushy eyebrows.

“He thinks I’m being bossy.”

“Are you?”

“No.” Emma pushed her hair out of her eyes in exasperation.

“Then what are you being?”

“I’m not being anything. I’m being me.”

“Em, honey, I’ve always admired your passion. Since you were a little kid, you threw yourself headfirst into whatever you did. If you were building a tower of blocks, you’d make sure it was the highest tower. I see you do that with your fashion and that’s what will get you ahead. But passion can be confused with being bossy.”

“Totally.” Emma loved how her dad always understood her. “Charlie doesn’t get that. He’s confused.”

“Maybe you’re making it hard for him to see the difference,” her dad suggested.

“No. Charlie overreacted. He knows that. He’ll be back, and we’ll laugh about it like we always do. No worries.” She didn’t want to drag her dad into her silly fight with Charlie.

“I’m not worried if you’re not,” Dad agreed. “I’m off to a meeting. Marjorie’s going to need you soon.”

“Sure.” Once he left, Emma circled her Girls, fingering the fabric she’d artfully draped over their stiff forms. This fashion show would bring her even closer to her dream—her passion—if she could fit all the pieces together.

“Charlie’s wrong. No music or computer images are going to make these clothes fabulous,” she told the dress forms. “It’s just me and a needle and thread. I can do this.”

* * *

This fight with Charlie was different, Emma quickly realized. He’d avoided her for two days, turning his head when she passed him in the halls. He didn’t answer her texts or calls. She’d wedged a note into the slats of his locker, and it stayed there all Wednesday, ignored.

Holly confirmed that he was really, truly angry.

He’d never been really, truly angry. Not with her at least.

Meanwhile, her red Allegra phone buzzed non-stop. Everyone but the person she wanted to hear from, Charlie.

The photographer—Sven Laarson—kept e-mailing, because Charlie told him she was the decision-maker. He needed to lock down the time and place to film the runway show. He wanted her to get Allegra’s opinion on lighting and location and a whole list of other things.

His emails kept coming and coming.

Plus Charlie had given the two bands and the solo singer Emma’s contact info and told them she was in charge now. They each wanted to know if they got the gig and when the filming would take place. Emma had listened to their demos last night and, honestly, couldn’t make a choice. She kind of liked Oregon Trail, but debated if the Mango Meltdown had a better beat for runway strutting. She needed a second opinion.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against her locker. It was all too much.

“You okay?” a familiar voice asked quietly.

Emma blinked rapidly and scanned the hall. No Lexie. No Ivana. Just Jackson. Here, alone with her. “Yeah, sure.”

“You look kind of bummed.”

“Do you know anything about alternative music?” Emma asked suddenly.

Jackson shook his head. “Not really. I’m more into classic rock. Why?”

“I need to pick a song for a…a project,” Emma explained.

“Isn’t your friend Charlie into that?”

“Yeah.” Emma sighed. “We got into a huge fight.”

“Really?” Jackson considered her for a moment. “Is that why you look so sad?”

“I guess. I’m kind of used to having him around,”—her phone buzzed with another request from Sven—“doing stuff with me.”

“So you lost your Boy Wonder?”

“Boy Wonder?” Emma asked.

“Sidekick. Every super hero has a sidekick.”

“I’m a super hero?” She grinned.

“Super Emma, remember?”

Of course, she remembered!

“Yeah, I do. We never finished that.” She spotted the Ivana-Bees moving in her direction. They’d ruin her time with Jackson. Ivana for the sport of it. Lexie because maybe she and Jackson were a thing. She only had a minute left. “We should figure out what adventures she has now.”

“You mean, now that you’re flying solo?” He leaned close.

So close.

“Definitely.” She held his gaze. Her chest tightened.

“I have practice after school. How about after that?”

She had clothes to make. She had beads to find. She had bands to book, and videographers to coordinate. Charlie would tell her to keep her focus on Allegra.

Charlie wasn’t here.

Charlie had quit, and Lexie was only steps away.

“Yes. Let’s meet outside my dad’s office. There’s a coffee place nearby. I’ll text you the address.”

“For sure.” He stepped away, as the bell rang.

Emma quickly turned down the hall, willing herself not to look back. Not to see how Lexie greeted Jackson. Or how Jackson greeted Lexie.

That afternoon, as soon as she entered Laceland, Marjorie prodded her to talk with her friend Inez, who worked at a company called MB Trimmings in the building, but Emma got pulled away by Francesca and never found out why. Francesca needed help with the e-mail interview with Billy Perez. Emma was the only choice now that Charlie wouldn’t answer her texts. Emma cut-and-paste information from the website and blog Charlie had created for Allegra. It was the best she could do in the short time she had.

Her mind drifted to her plans later with Jackson. She decided that she didn’t care if he was going out with Lexie. She wanted to spend time with him. She wanted to draw comic books with him. Talk to him. Sit next to him.

She needed a friend these days. Holly was off at volleyball. And Charlie had left her.

She missed Charlie.

A lot.

Emma perched on the narrow windowsill in Laceland’s hallway to answer her Allegra phone as it rang. Paige’s hurried voice greeted her. “Checking in. You didn’t text back yesterday.”

“A lot’s happened since then,” Emma admitted.

“What’s wrong?” Paige’s tone was clipped and, by the click of her heels against the floor and the echo of “Ms. Young, over here,” Emma knew that she was juggling many things at once and hadn’t planned on an earful of Emma’s problems.

Emma spilled the story, or at least part of it, until Paige cut her off. “Enough! Benny will be at the curb outside Laceland in twenty minutes in a black Town Car. Get in.”

“Get in some strange guy’s car?” Emma asked.

“Benny’s the driver for
Madison
. You can trust him. I’ll call your dad and clear it. Go with Benny.”

“Go with Benny where? Why? Paige?” The line went dead. Paige was onto the next thing.

Her dad gave the okay, and Emma slipped into the black car with the tinted windows. Benny held the back door open for her. She was a little disappointed. She’d expected the
Madison
driver to be a cute Calvin Klein model in a narrow black suit and a black chauffeur’s cap. Instead, Benny had thinning salt-and-pepper hair and wore a red sweater that stretched tightly over his belly paunch. But he was a nice guy, switching the radio from the jazz station to her favorite Top 40, as he wove expertly through the late afternoon traffic down Eleventh Avenue.

Emma pulled out her phone and texted Jackson to cancel on him. Again. And she truthfully couldn’t tell him why. Would he believe her if she told him a fashion editor kidnapped her?

Doubtful.

Benny pulled up to a warehouse building that backed onto the Hudson River. The street was deserted, and there were no signs on the building. Emma had no idea what kind of place this was.

“Are you sure?” she asked Benny. Had he gotten the address wrong? Was Paige playing a cruel joke?

“She’s in there.” He pointed to a single metal door. “Hit the buzzer on the side. I’ll wait and drive you home after.”

Emma stepped out of the car, pulling the navy pea coat that she’d rescued from the Columbus Avenue street fair and dressed up with big rhinestone buttons against the sharp wind coming off the river. Nervously, she approached the door and rang the buzzer.

Where had Paige sent her?

GOTTA LOOK OR YOU CAN’T SEE

T
he door swung open immediately to reveal Caroline, Paige’s assistant.

“I’ve been waiting.” Caroline shot her an impatient look. She wore a stretchy midnight blue dress that clung to her tiny frame and kitten-heeled slides in the same shade of blue/black. Caroline’s ponytail swung from side to side, as she led Emma through the dimly lit cavernous building.

“What is this place?” Emma asked, hurrying behind.

“Monk Studios.” They rounded a corner and the pulsing beat of a Jay-Z rap echoed off the industrial ceiling. Bright high-hat photography lights illuminated a section of the raw space. A platform had been constructed in front of an azure-blue silk curtain. More than twenty people bustled about, oblivious to Emma’s entrance.

“I’m not sure why you’re here.” Caroline gazed at her with curiosity, taking in her bulging school bag and purple skinny cords, her beat up lug-soled leather boots. Paige had kept her in the dark about Emma’s secret identity, and Caroline probably assumed she was Paige’s mentoring project or today was a take-a-teen-to-work kind of thing.

“I’m not sure either,” Emma admitted.

“Sit.” Caroline gestured to a row of plastic folding chairs off to one side.

Emma sat. “Where’s Paige?”

“Reviewing wardrobe choices. There’s an issue with belts. Thick is needed with the dress, but too thick will mess with the color block effect.” Caroline was pretty, Emma noticed, with extraordinarily large green eyes flecked with gold.

“What’s this all for?” Emma asked. “What happening here?”

“A photo shoot.” Caroline gave her a look of pity, as if she’d just come to the big city from a remote ranch. “You know, for
Madison
.” She glanced over at a long table by the floor-to-ceiling windows. “I’ve got to move Diana along. The woman is killer with the smoky eyes but slow like you can’t believe.”

Emma watched Caroline hurry toward a make-up artist with a long, messy braid, who applied charcoal eyeliner to an angular model in a black cotton robe. Two assistants hovered nearby with mirrors and spritz bottles. At the same time, a man in a body-hugging white T-shirt released oversized curlers from the model’s platinum hair.