Fashion Frenzy (13 page)

E
ven though she had been to New York before with her parents, today Maeve stood in the middle of Times Square feeling like a clueless tourist. She couldn’t get used to all the people bustling around her. No one looked at anyone else as they rushed around, and she was sure that they’d crash into each other at any moment. Everyone, it seemed, was somehow comfortable on this frenzied city street—everyone except her.

Maeve felt totally out of place, from her attitude to her outfit. Half of the people she saw wore stark black dresses or suits, and the other half were in casual jeans. These were the clothes she’d rejected as either too old-fashioned or not special enough for New York!

Maeve prided herself on her edgy fashion sense, and the feeling that it had just deserted her—along with Katani and everything else—right in the middle of the world’s most fashionable city was almost too much for her.

Okay, Maeve, get a grip, she told herself.
At least I have
the address of the
Teen Beat
offices. There HAS to be someone around here who can tell me how to get there!

She looked around doubtfully. At mid-morning, finding someone she could trust to direct her to the magazine’s offices looked like a tough job. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head cautioning, “Maeve, whatever you do, do
not
to talk to strangers!”

She clutched her big bag closer to her. It had become so heavy that it felt like a bar of iron on her shoulder, but she wouldn’t be able to stand it if someone grabbed it away! It was the last thing she had that made her feel even slightly normal. Why had she insisted on wearing a pink jacket, of all things, and pink boots, which were killing her feet? Was she sticking out like a sore pink thumb? People were probably thinking to themselves,
Yikes!
That girl
must
be from out of town!

Stay cool, stay focused, Maeve reminded herself. The problem was she couldn’t—she was too nervous. A thousand thoughts were buzzing through her head:
Should I find a phone
?
Should I ask someone on the street for directions
?
Should I call my dad
?
Should I call
Teen Beat
? Should I find a policeman? Should I do all of the above
?

Finally, after taking a few deep breaths, she decided to find a store and ask the people who worked there to help her out with directions. It was a public setting, and plus, the people who worked right in Times Square would surely know their way around. Maeve ducked into a store that sold candy, newspapers, and hot drinks and immediately headed for the counter.

The woman behind the register was surrounded by
customers. Her hands moved like lightning. She’d take a bill and press a button, and then a bell would ring, and in a moment the woman’s hand would reach out with the perfect change. With a nod, she would turn over the money and receipt, all in one blurred movement. Maeve tried to wait for a lull, but she was quickly learning that there was no lull in New York City.

After waiting patiently for a minute, she finally got her chance. “I’m lost. Could you please tell me how to get here?” She slid the paper with
Teen Beat
’s address across the counter in front of the woman.

The woman quickly blinked at the paper. “Oh, yeah. That’s a block over and one block down from here. Walk down a block, turn left at the corner and then it’s on your left.”

“What?” Maeve desperately tried to understand the clerk’s directions, but her rapid-fire delivery made that impossible. “Could you please repeat that just one more time?”

The woman looked aggravated. As she opened her mouth, at least a dozen people approached the counter at once, snatching up papers, asking for coffee, and holding their money out so they’d be served next.

Maeve knew she couldn’t compete with the store’s hurried customers. Not only did they know exactly where they were going, but they actually had money for the cashier. She went back to her business and Maeve was back to being LOST. What was she going to do now?

Maeve was considering getting a cab to take her directly to
Teen Beat
, no matter what it cost, when she
heard a male voice behind her say, “Pardon me, are you lost, young lady?”

Maeve whirled around. She was surprised to see that this helpful stranger was not only young and polite. He was…well, absolutely dreamy!

The man stood tall with a slim frame. His chestnut hair fell around his face at just the right semi-long length and matched a pair of deep, dark eyes and high cheekbones. He paid for a copy of the
New York Times
, and instead of pocketing the change, he dropped it all—bills included—into the tip jar.

Maeve was unaware that she hadn’t responded until the dreamy man repeated, “Are you lost? Maybe we can help you.” It was then that she noticed his soft British accent. Somehow his accent made him seem less like a stranger and more like a chummy friend you would invite over for tea, she thought. She looked at his face and felt like she had seen him before, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. For the first time since Katani disappeared, Maeve began to feel a little safer. She even managed to smile.

He smiled back. Maeve felt her heart make a
ka-thump
in her chest.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, feeling more confident. “I am a little lost. I’m looking for this address.” She showed him the paper.

“Oh, what a coincidence!” piped up a female voice next to him. Maeve turned to see a slender young woman at his side. She too had a British accent. Her light blond hair was stylishly cropped to her chin and her clothes were fabulously mod. Next to these people, Maeve began to feel
a bit babyish in her ultra-pink ensemble. “We’re headed to the very same place! Are you going to the
Teen Beat
fashion show too?” Maeve stared. She couldn’t believe it. That was the last thing she expected to hear.

There was no way that this could be some kind of trick. How else could they
possibly
know about the fashion show? “I’m Bea, by the way,” the woman said with a warm smile.

“Let’s get out of this madhouse, shall we?” the man said kindly to Maeve. “It’s getting awfully crowded in here, don’t you think?”

Maeve hadn’t noticed. To her, everything in New York seemed crowded. As they made their way out of the stuffy little store, she noticed that everyone they passed stopped what they were doing to stare at her. No—not just at her, but at…well, at
all of them
! Why? she wondered. Maybe they were trying to figure out how two ultrastylish people ever got mixed up with a girl wearing all pink and toting around a gigantic bag made out of a rug!

Oh well
! thought Maeve. She was willing to chance looking out of place if these super cool Brits could point her in the right direction.

“Now look,” said the man in his delightful accent. In the light of day, Maeve thought he looked even hunkier! “We’re going to the exact same place as you. And it’s not far at all. You can come with us if you like.”

Maeve stood uncertainly. They did seem awfully friendly. Even though her instincts told her she could trust them, Maeve wished she had some sort of solid proof.

It was as though Bea could read her mind. “Hold on
a moment! I have something in here about the show, I think.” The woman opened up her tiny designer handbag and fumbled around inside. “Ah-ha! Here we go!” Triumphantly, Bea produced a lavishly printed invitation to the
Teen Beat
Magazine Fashion Show. Maeve had seen one just like it on Michelle’s desk that morning. Apparently, they really were going to the fashion show.

“Well, what do you think?” the man asked with another smile. “The only thing that could get in the way between us and this show are these New York street signs. Even though they do number the streets so cleverly, I still get lost. I’ve always been a dreadful mess when it comes to math and numbers,” he confessed. Bea laughed and Maeve also found herself smiling. Maeve thought she should practice a British accent—it sounded so delightfully delightful!

“All right,” Maeve said cautiously. But she told herself she’d stay a few feet behind them, just in case.

Maeve soon became genuinely comfortable. Bea and her friend thoughtfully gave her plenty of space as she walked slightly behind them up the street. Truth or dare, Maeve thought that she should be ready to run in case they turned out to be kidnapping alien terrorists sent from the mother ship to bring a certain red-headed girl back to the planet Urg to teach everyone about hip hop dancing. But instead, the friendly couple would turn around every once in a while to give her an encouraging smile and tell her how bewildering they found New York.

“It’s just awful to be a stranger in a new city,” Bea commented. “I get so confused!”

“Totally!” Maeve agreed. She completely understood how they felt.

Bea stopped and pointed out a modern, glassy building. “But look! I do think we’ve actually made it!” She looked up at the building and checked the number against her invitation. “Yes, here we are.”

Maeve felt a wave of relief. Was it possible that she, Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, had reached the right place? And she had done it, basically, as an independent girl. After a long and overwhelming morning, Maeve finally began to feel like her optimistic self again.
How wonderful to be in New York
! she thought as she gave her red mane a toss.

As they started toward the lobby doors, Maeve was convinced that everyone was turning to stare at them. What was going on? Did she really look so out of place that sophisticated New Yorkers would stop what they were doing and gape at her? Maeve remembered the man with the snake outside the subway station and thought, there
have
to be crazier looking people than me in this city!

But for sure, these people were staring at
something
.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

B
efore they took three steps into the lobby, a security guard seated behind a large paneled desk stopped them. “Names, please?”

“Maeve Kaplan-Taylor,” Maeve said hesitantly. “I’m not sure I’m in the right place.”

“Oh, Ms. Kaplan-Taylor, they are waiting for you upstairs,” he said with a look of concern. Maeve’s stomach flip-flopped. She hoped she hadn’t caused too much trouble by getting lost.

The security guard looked down a printed list on his desk. “You’re here for the fashion show, correct?”

“Oh yes!” Maeve confirmed with a smile.

“All right, Ms. Kaplan-Taylor. Here’s your badge,” he said smoothly. “You’re all set. It’s on the twenty-ninth floor.”

Maeve took the badge and thanked him. When her two companions stepped up behind her, something very
strange happened. The security guard didn’t ask them a thing. Instead, he smiled warmly and said, “Well now. Good morning. Welcome. Here are your VIP passes. When you get to the twenty-ninth floor, someone will be there to assist you.”

“Thank you,” said the man. He took the badges and led Bea and Maeve to the elevators. Maeve was surprised that the British couple wasn’t asked for their names, as she had been, but she supposed they’d been here before.

Maeve felt the stares again as she crossed the lobby. When they walked by, people stopped mid-sentence and pointed. How embarrassing! She was about to go into a real New York fashion show, and her fashion statement was a flop!

She hunched her shoulders together and tried to make herself invisible as they waited for the elevator.

Bea looked at her, puzzled. “Are you cold?” she asked.

“No…just embarrassed,” Maeve admitted. “I guess I shouldn’t have worn all this pink. All the people I see on the streets are wearing navy and black. People keep looking at me like I’m nuts!”

“Oh, no!” Bea said. “I think that outfit looks terrific on you! And I
love
your boots!”

“You do?” Maeve was astonished. “Really?”

“You look adorable. And that handbag is totally wicked!”

“Then why is everyone staring?” Maeve asked.

The elevator jangled to a stop and the doors opened. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Bea said vaguely as they
stepped on. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with what you’re wearing.”

Maeve glanced sideways at the gorgeous guy who hadn’t spoken at all since he picked up the badges. He was smiling slightly, eyes fixed straight ahead, as though he knew a little secret. Maeve wished she could remember why he looked so familiar. Where had she seen that dreamy confidence before?

The elevator was much swifter than the clunky old one in Michelle’s building. In under a minute, they were whisked up to the twenty-ninth floor. The doors slid smoothly open.

The first person Maeve saw was Katani.

Maeve noticed immediately that Katani was teary-eyed and frantically trying to zip up her coat. Next to her, Michelle was pulling on her own jacket, looking tense and frightened. Behind them were two policemen.

“Katani!” Maeve called, rushing out of the elevator. She hugged her friend in a fever of relief.

“Maeve! We were on our way out to look for you!” Katani cried. Suddenly Katani stopped hugging Maeve and looked at her accusingly. “Where have you been? What were you thinking, going off by yourself like that?”

Maeve gulped. “What do you mean? You left me behind in the subway.” Now she was almost tearful, too. “You were in such a rush you never even noticed I was gone.”

For a minute both girls just stood there, eyes welling with tears. Katani felt awful. Maeve was right. She had been so furious all morning that she had forgotten the most
obvious thing: friends are the number-one priority. Being worried about Maeve was ten times worse than being worried about arriving at the fashion show late. And now that Maeve was here, she realized that she was happy—even happier than when she found out about this trip in the first place. “I’m sorry, Maeve.”

Maeve hugged her. “No, it’s okay. I’m just glad I found this place!”

When Michelle spotted the British couple standing quietly behind the girls, her eyes widened. “Oh, thank goodness…Simon! You made it!”

Katani turned and gasped. She began to stare too. In fact, everyone in the hallway was staring. Some people were even pointing and whispering, but smiling the whole time.

Maeve turned to look at the man Michelle had called Simon, and her eyes widened.
Oh…my…gosh
!

Simon Blackstone! How could she not have known him? British heartthrob, star of the great new action movie
The Swashbuckler
, actor, rocker, and out-of-this-world hip hop dancer—and she, who knew his face from movies and magazines, hadn’t even realized it!

I was rescued by Simon Blackstone
, Maeve thought.
Is that too amazingly cool or what? This is the BEST day of my life
!

Michelle had already taken charge of the situation. She thanked the policemen for coming and apologized for having wasted their time.

“We’re just glad everything turned out all right,” they said very graciously. Maeve blushed as she thanked her rescuers and then began apologizing in over-the-top Maeve
style for not recognizing them sooner. “I mean,” she gushed to Simon, “you are one of my all-time favorite actors, if not my favorite. I like you even better than…You know, I am going to be an actress too someday…maybe you could…” Maeve noticed that Katani was frantically motioning for Maeve to “chill.”

“Oh.” She looked up at Simon, the biggest heartthrob on the planet. “I…I’m sorry…you must want to…” Simon flashed Maeve his famous, sparkling, devilish smile, the smile that made millions of girls all over the world scream “SIMON ROCKS!” Speechless, Maeve just bobbed her head at his gleaming white teeth. And then the unimaginable happened. Simon Blackstone, favorite movie star of Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, reached over and lifted Maeve’s hand to his lips, brushed it lightly with a kiss and in his impossibly cool British accent said “Anytime, Luv.”

Maeve grabbed Katani’s hand and watched as Michelle led Simon and Bea to the magazine’s conference room, where there was a brunch specially prepared just for them. Michelle turned to Katani and Maeve, noticing their overwhelmed expressions. “Why don’t you two freshen up?” she suggested. “I’ll meet you right back in this conference room when you’re done.”

“You know that I can never wash this hand…I mean, NEVER wash this hand ever again in my whole entire life. Someone should take a picture of this hand and put it in the Fan Hall of Fame,” Maeve said as she walked to the ladies’ room with Katani.

“Okay. Maeve, explain this to me,” Katani said the
minute the girls were alone in the ladies’ room. She was bursting with curiosity. “So you get totally lost in Times Square, in the middle of New York City. Then you come strolling in here with—who? Oh, right.
Simon Blackstone!
Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, how did you manage this? Speak now or I will be forced to make you speak,” Katani said, laughing. “It just isn’t possible that someone from Abigail Adams Junior High gets her hand kissed by Simon Blackstone. How on earth did you do it?”

“Oh, we didn’t
just
come up in the same elevator,” Maeve said, giggling a little in sheer relief. “He
found
me in Times Square—and brought me over here because he was worried about me.”

“No!” Katani looked stunned. “That’s incredible! He found you and
rescued
you?”

“Well—I guess he and Bea both did,” Maeve said. She felt both giddy and calm, now that she was finally with Katani again. “He, of course, just sort of swept me up and carried me away.” When she saw the doubtful look on Katani’s face, she amended, “Well, not exactly. But I couldn’t find the building and he and Bea said they were coming here anyway, so they asked me if I wanted to come along. And want to hear the craziest part? I was so panicked all morning it didn’t occur to me who he was. Me! Can you imagine?! I didn’t even really care who he was, as long as I found you.” She looked over at Katani and gave her a warm smile.

“I was so scared when I couldn’t find you!” Katani said. “I didn’t go straight to Michelle’s office. As soon as I got out of the subway and realized that you were missing,
I waited and waited, and then I walked around in circles, thinking I’d find you behind me. Then after a while I thought maybe you had found your way here, so I rushed over. I told Michelle as soon as I saw her, and she called the police. When you got here we were just on our way out to look for you.” She shook her head. “It was horrible!” And then the normally reserved Katani threw her arms around Maeve and gave her an unexpected Kgirl super hug.

“It’s over now,” Maeve said, hugging her friend and thinking back on how people had stared at her in the lobby and on the street. She turned to Katani and giggled. “You know, when people stared at us on the way here, I kept thinking it was because my outfit was all wrong. But Bea said she loved what I was wearing
and
she thought my bag was great! Gosh! I had absolutely no idea that everyone was staring at
him
.” She shook her head and her cheeks turned as pink as her outfit. She’d been so sure there was something wrong with
her
that it never occurred to her that there was another, simpler explanation for why New Yorkers would stop and stare!

Katani stared at her now, too. “What?” Maeve said.

Katani shrugged and smiled. “Nothing,” she said finally. “You do look cute. There’s just one thing…” She handed Maeve a comb. “Here. Just a few strokes and you’ll be all set!”

Maeve thanked her and began to rearrange her long, red tresses while Katani watched her in silence and a little wonder. She was just beginning to see what Bea, whom Michelle said was Simon’s manager (
sigh!
), was talking about. That morning Katani had looked at Maeve like she
didn’t have a clue about what to wear in New York City. When she decided to bring that retro bag, Katani began to get Mary Poppins flashbacks. But now she saw that Maeve’s unique sense of style was pretty cool. She was drenched in pink, and what person—according to Ms. Razzberry Pink, proprietor of Maeve’s favorite store, Think Pink—didn’t feel good when they were covered in pink? Maybe Bea really did admire Maeve’s daring ensemble.

Katani had always thought that her sense of style was the best because she followed what was going on in the world of fashion. But now she saw that her fashion sense was simply not the only way. Maybe she needed to expand her appreciation of fashion. Even if something wasn’t really her taste, it didn’t mean it wasn’t perfect for someone else. How would she ever make it to the top of the fashion world if there were so many more things to learn?
Was it always going to be like this
? she wondered. Wouldn’t she ever get to a point in life when she was finished learning?

“Girls!” Michelle rushed into the ladies’ room just as Maeve combed her last strands of hair into place. “You won’t believe who’s here!”

Maeve put her hands on her hips, “Michelle, I get it! Simon Blackstone.”

Michelle shook her head. “No! I mean, besides him!”

“Who?” Katani asked.

“A reporter from the local New York cable station, New York 1! They broadcast all over the five boroughs!”

Surprised, Katani looked at her cousin. Michelle was a member of the press herself. She dealt with the media every day. Why was this such a big deal?

Michelle didn’t give her time to guess. “Wait! You haven’t heard the best part! They found out there are two girls here from Boston who are interested in fashion careers, and they’d like to interview you both
right now
!”

“Wow!” Maeve shrieked, her blue eyes shining. “I’m going to be on camera?!”

“Exactly!” said Michelle.

“That’s awesome! Hold on, I’m going to call Charlotte and tell her to turn on the TV!”

Katani stared at her. “They won’t be able to see it, silly. It’s only going to be on local news. And besides, they’re still on the field trip.”

“Ohh…” Maeve was clearly disappointed.

“Come on,” Michelle said. “It’ll be fun. They’re looking to do the interviews right now, before we get started with the show. So you’d better hustle!”

Maeve was bubbling over with excitement as Michelle led them down the hall. Katani, however, was quiet. Since when had Maeve been interested in a career in
fashion
?