Chloe by Design: Balancing Act Read online

  “That would be great!” I write back.

  I’m so excited! This will be the first time I’ve seen Jake since I’ve been back in New York. I want to turn cartwheels, but my stomach growls again. As if on cue, my phone buzzes with a text from Bailey. “Hurry up and get back to the room before all the Chinese food is gone!” it says.

  Looks like intern dinner is going to be a tradition! I think as I pick up my pace.

  “It’s about time!” Avery says when I get to our room ten minutes later. “It’s hard holding these girls off. They’re like vultures!”

  “Hey!” says Bailey, tossing a napkin at Avery. “I prefer to think of myself as an exotic bird.”

  “An exotic bird with noodles in her hair,” I say, laughing.

  Bailey and Avery crack up, and even Madison smiles a little — I think.

  “How was your day?” asks Bailey.

  “Good! Laura has me working on pockets,” I tell her. “It’s super cool figuring out all the different ways to make each one stand out. How about you?”

  “Mallory has us doing prototypes of sleeves,” Bailey replies. “Like you said, it’s impressive how unique each design can be.”

  Avery nods. “I feel the same way about the bags. I never noticed what goes into making a clasp. I’m going to be paying more attention to my purse from now on!”

  Madison picks at her food. We didn’t start off on the best foot, but I try again. “How’s it going in dresses?” I ask.

  “Boring. Taylor is having me make prototypes of collars.” Madison rolls her eyes. “That’s hardly noteworthy.”

  “It’s kind of like with sleeves and pockets,” I say, trying to be positive. “They might seem small, but a garment wouldn’t be the same without them.”

  “Whatever. I’m better than that,” says Madison.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bailey raise her eyebrows. Even though I’m sure she meant that as an insult to me, it sounded like Madison was dissing all of us.

  “Can’t be famous in a day,” says Bailey.

  Madison snorts. “Tell that to Miss Design Diva. Kind of got famous pretty quickly, huh?”

  I’m too shocked to even respond. By the time I think to open my mouth, Madison has retreated to her room and slammed the door.

  “Wow,” says Avery. “What crawled into her bonnet?”

  “What?” I say, giggling. “I’ve never heard that expression.”

  Avery blushes. “My grams says that all the time. It’s sort of like ‘what’s her problem?’”

  Bailey laughs. “I get it, but it sounds so old-fashioned.” She repeats the phrase in a funny accent, and Avery and I crack up.

  The rest of the night, whenever there’s a lull in conversation, one of us says, “Did something crawl into your bonnet?” and we all start cracking up.

  When I go to bed, I’m thankful for roommates like Avery and Bailey, but hope Madison warms up too. Dealing with mean girl Nina during Teen Design Diva wasn’t fun, but it would have been a lot worse if we’d had to room together.

  On Thursday, I’m still working on pockets. Two full days of pockets might sound boring, but it’s amazing how creative I can get. Even though pockets are such a tiny part of the whole outfit, the little details on them can make a piece pop. It’s fun thinking of how to set each one apart.

  With each prototype, I check Laura’s designs, then recreate them on the fabric by hand or machine. Laura has been great about letting me add my own flair to the designs. For example, one of her sketches was of a pocket with embroidered pink flowers. I tweaked the design by choosing darker shades of pink and adding a small pearl in between each flower. Laura loved it.

  Sometimes I have to run to other departments for a piece of fabric or a sketch, and it’s so interesting to see how other designers work. A lot of them design on the computer. I like that my department is hands-on, and I can sew my prototypes. How do you get the same feel for the garment if you’re just pressing computer keys?

  Later that morning, Laura stops in to check on my progress. “How’s it going?” she asks as I pin a black denim pocket with lavender trim onto the board.

  I step back and look at the designs. “Pretty good.”

  Laura nods. “I think so too. That black pocket is different. I wouldn’t have pictured it in a spring line because it’s so dark, but the lavender trim is the perfect accent. She steps closer to it. “Hmm … that gives me an idea for a dress. Maybe we could flip it — a lavender dress with black trim.”

  Laura’s enthusiasm makes me feel good, especially since I’ve still been stewing over Madison’s rude comments. I’m trying not to let her get to me — sticks and stones and all that — but every time she gives me a mean look or mumbles something under her breath when I walk into the room, my confidence is shaken.

  Take this morning for example. I was feeling awesome in my outfit — a black dress paired with a striped scarf and gold flats. Then, as we were all waiting for the elevator, I saw Madison point at me and whisper something to another intern. I began to second-guess myself almost immediately.

  I’ve been texting with Liesel and Jake, but I’m keeping this mean girl drama on the DL. I don’t want them thinking I can’t handle myself here. Whenever the nastiness starts to get me down, I focus on seeing Jake tomorrow and perk up.

  “What do you think of this, Chloe?” Laura asks when she emerges from her office an hour later. I look at her sketch and am awed. In no time at all, she’s made a sketch of the dress she mentioned. It has a scalloped V-neck and hem and is accented with a lavender border.

  “How did you do that so quickly?” I ask.

  Laura blushes. “Practice, my dear.”

  “The border and neckline make it look so fun!” I tell her.

  “Thanks,” says Laura. “We’re a good team. Your pocket really put this idea into my head.”

  I blush happily. Who would have thought something as small as a pocket could be a stepping-stone for an entire design?

  Laura glances at the clock on the wall, and I do the same. It’s almost noon. Time passes so quickly here. “I think we’ve worked hard enough this morning,” she says. “Take a break, and I’ll see you after lunch.”

  I practically skip to the elevator. I can’t wait to see Jake tomorrow and tell him about my week, especially today. I think of Laura’s dress and how amazing it would be if Stefan picked that design. Knowing I played a part in its creation feels so good.

  I get in line at Starbucks, grabbing a pre-made sandwich for lunch. All around me, New York bustles. I love everything about this city. I could so see myself living here. When I started the Teen Design Diva competition at the beginning of the summer, the city was intimidating, the streets too crowded, and the subways too confusing. I missed the calm of Santa Cruz. Now, more than a month later, I feel like I’m fitting in. Of course, I miss my friends and family, but it’s amazing to realize how far I’ve come.

  “Next!” yells the barista.

  I put my sandwich on the counter. “A caramel macchiato too, please.”

  I pay for my order and step aside as the machines puff and sputter. More people flood in, and I hear a familiar voice complain about the line — Madison. I don’t think she’s spotted me, and I cross my fingers that my drink will be ready soon. I don’t need her killing my good mood.

  “Talk about a long day!” Madison says loudly to someone beside her. “If I have to make one more collar, I’m going to throw up.”

  “I spent all morning sketching clasps and zippers,” the girl with her replies. “It’s not Paris runway, but I like it.”

  I recognize the voice as Avery’s and almost turn around, but something stops me.

  “Maybe it’s easier where you are,” Madison grumbles.

  “I don’t know,” says Avery. “Isn’t Chloe at Stefan Meyers too? She seems
really happy there.”

  “Whatever,” says Madison. “First of all, she’s not with Taylor. And second of all, I bet they take it easy on her.”

  “C’mon, Madison. Don’t be like that. It sounds like she’s working really hard.”

  I stand on my tiptoes and see Madison toss her hair over her shoulder. “Sure, she makes it sound like that. But she’ll say anything. And I’m not the only one who feels like that.”

  Avery shifts her feet and turns away from Madison, but Madison keeps talking, her voice getting louder. People in the coffee shop are starting to turn and listen.

  “No one expects her to do well,” Madison continues. “This is all promo. She won this gig on Design Diva, so of course Stefan has to follow through. Everyone is just waiting for her time to run out so he can get a real intern who has a clue.”

  Tears spring to my eyes. Is that true? Was Laura just humoring me this morning? Did Stefan tell her to make me feel important so I’d give a good report about my experience?

  Just then, a barista shouts, “Caramel macchiato for Chloe!”

  I grab my drink and sandwich and run out the door, not stopping to see Madison’s reaction. All I want to do is get away from Madison and anyone else who feels the same way she does.

  It’s finally Friday! I felt like it would never get here. After I went back to work yesterday, I was totally distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Madison said. Seeing Jake today will be terrific, and any time away from Madison is an added bonus.

  Jake and I have plans to meet up after I’m done for the day. Our first stop is the Ripley’s Believe It or Not! museum in Times Square, which Jake said is a “total must-see.”

  When I arrive and see him standing at the entrance, it’s all I can do not to run to him. I’m glad he’s less reserved. As soon as I’m close enough, Jake grabs me and twirls me around. Then he gives me a kiss on the cheek. “It’s so good to finally see you,” he says, still hugging me. “Much better than just texting.”

  I laugh. “Agreed.” He puts me down and brushes the hair from my eyes.

  Jake and I hold hands, and he gives mine a squeeze as we walk into the museum. The first thing we see is an upside-down faucet with water shooting upward.

  “How do they do that?” I ask. I’m tempted to look it up on my phone, but decide to hold off. I’m sure this won’t be the last thing that blows my mind in this place.

  “Believe it … or not,” Jake deadpans, and I laugh.

  We walk farther into the museum and see photos of weird creatures like a two-headed calf and a seventeen-foot African albino giraffe. Past the giraffe, I spot a shrunken head behind glass. “Gross!” I say. “Where do they find these things?”

  Jake laughs. “Gross? What great inspiration for a jewelry line! My mom has to see this!” He snaps a picture with his phone.

  I make a face. “No one would wear that!”

  “You’d be surprised,” he says, grinning.

  “For Halloween, maybe. I’d love to be there when you try to sell Liesel on this idea.” I laugh.

  Jake shakes his head. “Everyone’s a skeptic,” he says with a wink. “Just you wait and see.”

  We make our way to a dark tunnel illuminated by rainbow lights next. The lights fizzle and sparkle around us. “Now this,” I say as we walk, “could spark a design idea.”

  “Maybe,” Jake agrees grudgingly. “I mean, if you’re into the colorful, pretty, not-disgusting angle.”

  “Right,” I say with a laugh. “What sane person would like that?”

  We crack up as we walk to the other exhibits. Exploring the weird and wonderful with Jake is exactly what I need today.

  ***

  After Ripley’s we head to dinner. Jake tells me about a spooky restaurant called Frankenstein’s Tavern, and it sounds perfect. A full day of creepy!

  “Some people believe it’s really haunted,” Jake tells me as we reach the restaurant’s oversized wooden doors. He wiggles his eyebrows and pretends to look scared.

  I roll my eyes. “I’m shaking.”

  The doors creak open, and a man with crazy Frankenstein hair greets us. I know he’s totally safe, but I get goose bumps anyway.

  “Welcome,” says the man in an ominous voice. “Follow me.”

  He leads us through a maze of dark hallways where we’re bombarded with florescent lights and random screams. We’re finally seated in a corner beneath a large, very real-looking cobweb. A — hopefully — fake spider crawls above us.

  “Your shrunken head design is just what this place needs,” I tell Jake.

  “I knew you’d finally see the brilliance of my idea!” Jake says. “Big bucks, Chloe Montgomery, big bucks.”

  “Yep, I can see it now,” I say with a grin. “‘College Student Rises to Fame With Shrunken Head Necklace Collection.’”

  “Why stop there?” Jake asks. “I’m thinking about doing an entire jewelry line!”

  I laugh so hard I snort and am embarrassed until Jake laughs even harder. Once we compose ourselves, we check out the menu full of gross-sounding dishes, like Missing Finger Potpie and Baked Mac and Sneeze.

  “What will it be?” our waiter asks.

  “Two Brains on a Stick,” says Jake.

  “With a side of your Curly Toed Fries,” I add, trying not to gag.

  “Oh, and two Quicksand smoothies,” says Jake.

  “I hope we don’t end this date in the dungeon,” I say after our waiter leaves.

  “If I had to be stuck in a dungeon with anyone, I’d want it to be with you,” Jake says with fake seriousness. “So, tell me more about your internship. I want to hear everything.”

  “Well, my boss, Laura, has been really supportive,” I tell him. “And she’s been open to my ideas. So that’s encouraging. By the way, I saw your mom the other day, and she said she’s worked with Stefan Meyers before too!”

  Jake nods. “Yeah, she loves that place. Oh, that reminds me! I’m supposed to tell you that the new Stefan Meyers department is dresses. She said you’d know what she meant.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, she told me the other day that she’s going to be working on a new spring line with Stefan but wasn’t sure which department. Now she knows.”

  Jake shakes his head and smiles. “So like my mom. She could have just said that. Instead, I feel like a spy giving a cryptic message.”

  “What about you?” I ask. “How are your classes going? What’s marketing like, anyway?” I realize I don’t really know what that is.

  “We have to come up with ways to present the designs to make them more appealing,” says Jake. “A good design is key, but if the campaign to get the word out stinks, it might fall flat.”

  I’m not sure I get it. “But shouldn’t a good design say it all?”

  “Not always.” Jake thinks for a few seconds, then snaps his fingers. “Here’s an example I studied. A few years back, Johnny Q. created a suit that was supposed to be the next big thing in menswear.”

  “I love his stuff,” I say. “It’s fancy without being stuffy.”

  Jake nods. “Right. But when they were coming up with the marketing campaign, they thought it would be funny to have the tagline ‘Not your grandpa’s suit.’ They focused a lot on old folks, and people got offended. All younger buyers remembered was some old dude wearing a suit. No one bought it. So, see? A good design is a start, but there’s more to it.”

  “Impressive,” I say. “Will you run my marketing campaign for Chloe’s Cute Clothes when I’m famous?”

  “With pleasure,” says Jake. “We’ll start by changing that name. Too long.”

  I laugh. “You’re the expert,” I say. This hangout is exactly what I needed. I’m having such a great time, it’s not hard to push Madison out of my mind.

  “I’m glad I’m going to see you more now that you’r
e back in New York,” Jake says, squeezing my hand. “Speaking of, my mom says you two have a lunch date on Tuesday. Mind if I tag along?”

  I tap my chin, pretending to think about it. “Uh, I guess that would be fine.”

  “Gee, thanks,” says Jake, acting hurt.

  I playfully push my shoulder against his. “You know I’m happy to see you as much as possible.”

  Our waiter arrives. “Two Brains on a Stick,” he says. Talk about mood kill.

  I think about the perfect Friday with Jake for the rest of the weekend. I also do my best to avoid Madison. By the time Monday rolls around, I’m ready to put what she said behind me. Despite what she said, I’m sure not everyone agrees with her. Avery and Bailey don’t seem to. I head to the office with a good attitude, but it fades a bit when I approach the elevators, and the first person I see is Madison.

  She smirks at me. “Nice bag,” she says.

  Today, I’m wearing a pair of cropped, ankle-length black drawstring pants with a pale peach T-shirt. I threw on a pair of gold flats to add some shine and grabbed a cool leopard-print bag to hold my sketchbook and other necessities. The outfit is very Stefan Meyers, but Madison’s comment gets to me anyway. Which is probably her goal.

  I want to shoot back something nasty, but the last thing I need is Madison making up stories about how rude I am. Instead, I step into the elevator, knowing she’ll wait for the next one.

  Laura is already at her desk when I walk into her office, and I spot two empty coffee cups in the trash. I see she’s added details to the dress design from last week and is working on something new. There are prototypes strewn across the floor and spilling off the corners of her desk.

  “Can I help you organize your desk?” I blurt out.

  Laura looks surprised, and I realize that may have sounded impolite.

  “I’m sorry,” I begin. “I didn’t mean —”

  “No, it’s okay. I would love that. I didn’t want to ask because I know how boring organizing can be.”