She let out a breath and asked tentatively, "How do they look?"
"Oh Julie, I think you really outdid yourself. They're even better in person than they are on paper. And you know what else? I think a few people are suspicious. I mean, you've seen Troy's designs. These are much sleeker than his stuff. People are noticing."
"Oh good. I'm glad my clothes got him some extra attention."
"I'm just saying..." Trina started, but Julie didn't have the heart to listen.
"Look, I'm over it. It's okay, really. How is everything else?"
"I really don't think--"
“Trina.”
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"I'm positive."
"The catwalk broke."
"The...what did what?" Julie blinked.
"They were installing the catwalk at the venue and it splintered on the way over. It's totally uneven now and with all the girls walking in Troy's crazy heels..."
"We're screwed."
"Screwed might be--"
"Totally appropriate. We're screwed." Julie hung her head. "Okay. I'll think of something. And how is Troy? Is he suspicious?"
"Well, between you and me, I don't think all these things are coincidences. I've worked here for a long time and bad stuff always happens before big events, but this many in a row... Julie, I really think you ought to come back to the city and handle everything in person. It's a lot harder to sabotage someone when they're there to defend themselves."
Julie hesitated. She'd really been hoping that she wouldn't have to go back to the city or the office or Troy or anything like that until she was ready to handle it. And when she was ten pounds thinner and a thousand times more successful. To be honest, she wasn't even sure if she'd go to the show she'd spent the past few weeks planning.
Still, what Trina had said made sense. If Troy was bent on destroying her, it only made sense to try and thwart him. Even if every victory made about as much difference as a sneeze in a hurricane.
She let out a deep breath. "Okay, can you book me a cheap room near the venue? Don’t tell anyone I'm coming. Just make sure everything is all set for me."
"You got it, boss."
"Trina, one day when I'm a famous fashion designer, I'm going to make sure you're a star."
"A well-paid star, I hope."
"The best." Julie smiled, then said her goodbyes and hung up before flopping down onto her bed.
So this was it. She'd have to go back to New York with her tail between her failure legs. Troy had beaten her, and worse than that he'd kicked her while she was down.
She blew out a deep breath and watched the strand of hair in front of her face float up and fall back down, then sat up and decided to do something. Anything. She needed to unwind. To clear her head.
Crossing the room, she reached into her messenger bag and pulled out the thick yellow notebook that had replaced her stolen red one. Turning to a fresh page, she sat down on the bed and tucked the tip of her pencil between her lips.
An image came to mind. A pretty, flowy bridal gown with a high collar and long, elegant sleeves. She shook her head. No, she didn't do bridal designs.
But then she imagined herself as the model. And Chase as a groom, standing up there all dapper and smiling while she practically floated down the aisle.
It was a stupid dream. The kind she'd had so many years ago when she was sixteen and used to scrawl Mrs. Chase Westmore in her notebooks. Still, her pencil got to moving without her consent, and by the end of an hour, she'd not only sketched out a bridal gown, but also a pretty tulle confection that would compliment Amy and Trina's figures both.
Who knew? Maybe by the time she got married, there'd be a third Hamden woman there, too. Luke might have a wife or girlfriend. She tried to picture what kind of woman her brother might end up with, then the door rattled and she jumped up, scrambling across the room to hide her book before the visitor entered her little domain.