But he came back for me. That had to mean something. I needed to stop thinking about it. I wasn’t doing myself any favors. Men as handsome and sexy as Will didn’t want a girl like me. He was probably laughing at me just like Doug did a few weeks ago in his car.
The elevator doors opened and I stepped out onto the white marble floor and followed it down the hall to a large archway, under which was a walnut desk with a pretty young African American girl chewing gum.
She looked up at me and flashed a perfect smile. “Hi, are you Deborah Hanson? They’re waiting for you,” she said as she motioned to the glass door behind her.
“Waiting? I was told 11. I’m early.”
She leaned forward and the light hit her hair, revealing it to be a deep purple shade. I got a strong whiff of the pink bubble gum in her mouth as she whispered.
“Apparently the last girl here was just wasting their time,” she used air quotes as she finished her sentence then sat back satisfied she shared her piece of gossip. “Go ahead through those doors. Good luck!”
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I walked past her desk with my tablet and through the oversized glass doors to a small conference room.
With my shoulders back and my head held high, I looked at the three people seated at a long table at the end of the room. I recognized the Women’s Fashions buyer from her photo in the hall. A woman in her fifties with larger than life bright red hair and small delicate features, Amanda Cunning was known to be very particular about the new designers she introduced to the store.
I paused in my trek to the blue conference chair set up across the table from them when I recognized the older man seated next to Amanda. It was renown fashion designer Tim Ross. Tim Ross’s designs were classy yet fashion forward at the same time, a feat many designers tried to accomplish but failed. He was one of main reasons I wanted to become a designer. The highlight of my collection was an evening gown that gave a nod to his influence. I couldn’t wait to show him.
Last was a small, thin woman with her black hair pulled back into such a tight bun, I wondered if her face would collapse if she loosened it. Wearing a very traditional navy business suit, I assumed she was one of Hargrove’s higher ups. Maybe even Mrs. Hargrove. I knew nothing of the Hargrove family except that they created the fine department store decades ago.
Smiling as I approached them, I extended my hand while holding on to my tablet with the other.
“Hi, I’m Deborah Hansen. Thank you for allowing me into the contest, I know it was last minute.”
“Well we didn’t really have much choice now, did we? I’m Claudine Calvin,” said the woman with the tight bun, “Director of Acquisitions. I believe this has been the worse turn out to this contest in years. Kylie at the desk out there likes to talk, I’m sure she told you what happened to the last contestant.”
I smiled, not wanting to answer and get Kylie in trouble.
“Yes, the turn out has been surprising, Claudine,” Amanda said. “So when Human Resources called to enter you and said you were a friend of Joshua Cane’s, lets just say I was hopeful.”
“Is that why Hargrove’s hasn’t had a collection at Fashion Week in three years?” Tim asked.
“Precisely. I wasn’t going to have one of my designers create a collection and then dash their hopes in going if we had an amazing winner. And I refuse to show more than one collection at Fashion Week,” Amanda said. “I believe you show one fabulous collection and leave them wanting more. Now Miss Hansen, will your designs interest us or leave us cold?”
“My collection is perfect for Hargrove’s,” I said stepping forward and resting my tablet in front of Tim where they could all see it. “Even though its a mixture of day and evening looks, the overall cohesiveness works. I chose colors inspired by nature and styles that are flattering to all body types.”
Swiping the screen slowly, I showed them each of the pieces I created and how some of them could mix and match with others. While I assumed Amanda and Claudine would make the decision, my focus was on Tim Ross who nodded and smiled as he looked at my sketches. At the end, I let the tablet do a slideshow of the images to give the impression of them walking down a runway.
“Very impressive Miss Hansen,” Tim said and I fought the urge to jump up and hug him. “I especially enjoyed that show stopper gown at the end. Did you also design the dress you’re wearing?”
“Oh you have no idea how much that means to me, Mr. Ross. Your designs have been so inspirational. I did design that gown with you in mind and yes, this dress is mine too.”