Reluctantly, Chase took his seat next to Luke, and then glanced around the theater again. The crowd was whispering to each other, and despite all the celebrities surrounding them, Chase couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything besides the patchwork curtains—hoping he might catch a glimpse of Julie. Or that she might see him.
“It’s going to go off perfectly. She’ll see it,” Luke said.
“But what if she’s busy?”
“I’m sure it won’t matter. Trust me.” The lights dimmed and then silence fell on the crowd as Troy Wilcox sauntered onto the stage, one giant spotlight following his every move.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “Welcome to the indie fashion show spotlight on my newest fall fashion line. Please, sit back and enjoy a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
“I hope he takes his own advice,” Luke muttered, and then as the man exited the stage, a huge screen descended in the background and a projector flickered to life while the first model took the stage.
“Julie…” Trina bit her bottom lip, and then glanced out from behind the curtain before ducking back in to look at her friend.
Julie watched her, growing more and more impatient by the moment. “What’s wrong? I’m in the middle of—“
“Leave it. I sort of…Well, you’re going to want to see this.” Trina waved her over Julie rushed the wings. “I didn’t plan for a projector or…” Her mind registered the image on the screen, and she blinked. Her design was staring at her, the pen and paper incarnation of the dress that was walking out onto the stage.
And beside the drawing…her signature.
“How did…what…” she stammered, but then a man’s rough grip clamped down on her shoulder and spun her around.
“What do you think you’re pulling here?” Troy looked murderous, a huge vein throbbing in the middle of his forehead. His eyes bulged out of his head as he looked her up and down and if she didn’t know any better, she thought he might be on the verge of punching her.
“I didn’t—“
“Oh, I’m supposed to believe that this just magically happened? Well, it’s fine, I’m going to tell everyone that you’re a liar. That your sketched the designs after you saw them and that—“
“No you’re not.” This time it was Trina’s voice that broke through his whispered threats while a model strode past them and onto the stage.
“Excuse me?” Troy rounded on her, but Trina only crossed her arms over her chest.
“Julie had nothing to do with unmasking you, but she should have. She probably would have if I hadn’t stopped her that morning. You can’t take advantage of her talent just because you don’t have any.”
“Who do you think you’re speaking to? I’m your employer. Or at least I was. You’re fired.”
“I quit.” She spit on the ground at his feet.
"This isn't over, Julie. I'm going to make sure everyone knows that I'm the one responsible for this no matter what you and your stupid friends cooked up." Troy glanced from Trina back to Julie, then rushed in the opposite direction, presumably to figure out a way he could shut off the projector.
"Don't worry, he won't be able to stop the video," Trina said as Julie gaped at another model trotting onto the catwalk.
"You did this?" Julie asked.
"Only a little bit. Last night I snuck into Troy's office...then his apartment. Let’s just say I found your sketches. You do not want to know where I found them, but let's just say that Barbie collection is seriously the least of his worries."
"But...why?"
"Chase called me. He came here at four in the morning and put all this together. Hooked up the projector and put in a failsafe for when Troy inevitably tried to pull the plug. He was looking out for you."
"Chase...Chase left yesterday."
"To get your brother's help. Chase ain't so good with computers, you know."
"No Trina, you don't understand. He left me. He said--"
"Well, whatever he said, I'm pretty sure this makes up for it. Don't you?" Trina swept a hand out as another girl clomped past them on too-high heels.
Julie watched the rest of the show almost in a daze, noting the way every design matched her outline perfectly. Appreciating how her clothes had truly come to life. And Chase had been the one to make it all happen. Chase had made sure none of this had gone to waste.