“It’s . . . okay,” I said.
Yeah, all right, that wasn’t exactly a rousing show of enthusiasm for the fashion show, but it was the best I could muster.
I don’t think Jeanette noticed.
She was busy pulling dresses off the rack, holding them in front of her, and digging through the boxes of costume jewelry.
“I love fashion,” Jeanette said, draping a coral-colored plastic necklace over the hanger that held an orange and teal striped dress.
Yikes!
Bella and I nearly bolted for the stock room exit, but managed to stand still.
Then I had a brilliant idea.
“You know, Jeanette, you really do have an eye for color,” I said.
I could hardly get the words out. But, really, Jeanette was a dedicated Holt’s shopper. She actually liked this stuff. Maybe I could get her to assemble the looks I’d need for the runway show so I wouldn’t have to do it.
Jeanette was way ahead of me.
I hate it when that happens.
She dropped the necklace back in the box and hung the dress on the rack.
“I know you two girls will put on a fabulous show,” she said. “Everyone at the store is counting on you to win this contest for us.”
I knew I should say something positive about the contest.
I couldn’t think of anything.
“And don’t forget about the grand prize for the fashion show coordinator,” Jeanette said. She gave me a knowing smile—which was kind of creepy—and said, “You know, Corporate had initially announced the grand prize would be a set of our best cookware, but you-know-who changed it.”
My heart jumped. She must have been referring to Ty.
I’d wondered if the gossip at the corporate office had reached the stores and Jeanette had found out that Ty and I had broken up. Apparently, Jeanette was as clueless about company rumors as she was about fashion.
“At the last minute it was announced that the fashion show coordinator would receive a different prize,” Jeanette said. “A month-long internship as a stylist at the corporate headquarters.”
A stylist? At corporate headquarters? That’s where Ty worked.
Oh my God, if I won the fashion show contest that would mean I’d be in the same building with Ty? I might see him—every day? Pass him in the hall? See him in the breakroom? Maybe even sit in on meetings with him?
Jeanette kept talking, but it all turned into blah, blah, blah.
Had I actually volunteered to be the store’s fashion show coordinator? I’d been in my breakup fog at the time, so now I couldn’t be sure.
Maybe Jeanette assigned it to me. Why would she do that? She knew Ty and I were dating, so maybe she was playing cupid and trying to get us together at the corporate office.
She couldn’t have been trying to get me out of her store for a month, could she?
It hit me then that maybe I should go all-out to try to win the contest. If I worked at the corporate office with Ty for a whole month, maybe we’d realize we had a lot in common, like the stores, the merchandise, ways to increase sales. Maybe we’d get back together.
Then something else hit me.
Maybe I should go all-out and try to lose the contest. If I worked at the corporate office I’d see Sarah Covington. She’d be all over Ty and I’d have to watch. And—oh my God—what if they really were engaged?
I knew in my heart I wouldn’t be able to bear up seeing the two of them together.
Then yet another thing hit me.
There was no way to deliberately throw the contest. The clothing was hideous. No matter what horrible outfits I sent down the runway, Holt’s customers would buy them.
Jeez, how had I gotten into this mess?
And why would Ty have changed the contest’s grand prize?
CHAPTER 19
“Haley, Mrs. Adams needs to see you,” Muriel said when I answered my cell phone.
I’d just gotten into my car—looking way hot in one of my black business suits that I’d jazzed up with a bold Betsey Johnson bag—and was heading to L.A. Affairs. I was surprised to hear from her so early in the morning.
Then I realized that—wow—Sheridan probably wanted to tell me what a great job I was doing on her Beatles party. I was doing pretty darn good on Eleanor and Rigby’s pop quizzes. Plus I’d kept Muriel updated on everything, and she’d surely told Sheridan that I’d gotten fabulous gift bags, filled with even-though-you-don’t-need-any-free-stuff-you’re-going-to-love-this swag, and that the Cirque du Soleil performers were a lock.
“Sure,” I said. “I can come by this afternoon.”
I couldn’t wait to throw this in Vanessa’s face.
“First thing this morning would be better,” Muriel said.
Maybe I’d get Edie to announce my triumph at our next staff meeting.