Miss Scarlet's School of Patternless Sewing (32 page)

Scarlet clenched the handles of her sewing basket. “That’s not right. Maybe I’ll request an appointment with Johnny; if he is anything like Daisy, the happiness of his employees is crucial to the success of the operation,” she said.

“That must be why this company is going down. I hear a big overhaul is coming this summer. Johnny Scissors is supposedly waiting for his aunt to keel over so he can cash all this in. I’ve said too much already; this place has cameras and microphones everywhere.”

Ronnie pressed the Open button to find the one and only Johnny Scissors standing outside the elevator doors. Both Scarlet and Ronnie recoiled in fear and darted their eyes to opposite directions, as if Medusa and her head of hissing snakes had just materialized in front of them. Scarlet squirmed and slowly scanned Johnny from the feet up: Hermès black leather cap-toe Oxford shoes, Canali black striped wool two-button suit jacket and trousers, a thick head of black hair slicked back. Johnny Scissors lived up to his flashy reputation.

“What? Is there a problem with the lift?” Johnny asked.

“No, sir, just showing her around, she’s one of the new students in the JSED program,” Ronnie replied, staring only at Johnny’s silver dotted necktie. “Here you go, Miss Santana, eighth floor, the student sewing center.”

Scarlet stepped out of the elevator and Ronnie the assistant gestured for Johnny to enter. Johnny clasped his palms in front of his waist, intensely eyeing Scarlet up and down and side-to-side.

“Go without me,” Johnny said. “I’m going to chat with our new flame-haired Dita Von Teese in training.”

Scarlet inhaled and wished she had dressed up instead of tossing on the lazy jeans. Of all clothing to meet
the
Johnny Scissors in!

He motioned with his finger for her to follow him down a long, ceramic-tiled hallway lined with oversized framed pictures of Johnny posing stiffly with celebrities throughout the years: Tom Cruise, Drew Barrymore, Heidi Klum, and dozens of others. More images hung on the walls of all the other floors too.

“Interesting shoes. Did you paint those yourself?” he asked.

Scarlet posed sideways and lightly kicked one up behind her back. “I did, and the matching hair comb, see?” She lowered her head as she tried to keep up with his fast stride.

“Are they a one-time project, special for the occasion?”

“No, I’m Daisy’s long lost granddaughter; I inherited all her talent!” Scarlet joked.

Johnny came to a halt. “What did you say?”

“Um… in spirit! I’m a huge devotee of Daisy’s. I collect her pieces. She’s the reason I want to become a fashion designer.”

“What’s your name?”

“Scarlet.”

“To be honest, Scarlet, we hear that a lot around here. Students pimp out my aunt because they think it will win me over.”

“Not me! I mean, yes I’d like to win you over, but with my work, not because of my passion for Daisy. I’m as serious as grease on silk when it comes to my love for Daisy de la Flora. I even have a website dedicated to her.”

“Oooh, so you’re the one with the website… nice to meet you, Scarlet,” Johnny said, holding out his hand to shake. “Funny we should connect this way. My team is going to be calling you in soon; we have an event we want to use you for.”

“The fiftieth-anniversary celebration of Daisy’s career at the Met’s Costume Institute?” Scarlet asked. “I helped fact-check Daisy’s life for the
Fashion Faire Weekly
article that just came out.”

“You really are on top of the news, aren’t you? Yes, that’s the event. Well, Scarlet, here is the student sewing center; enjoy it. I look forward to talking again, checking out your designs and such.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tijeras, I swear I won’t disappoint.”

Johnny Scissors waved good-bye to Scarlet as she raised her shoulder and winked at him and entered the sewing room. She chose the first machine that she spotted, right in the center of the room, unpacked her supplies, and worked on a dress project she hadn’t touched in a month.

She popped in her earbuds and stitched away, never noticing that Johnny lingered just outside the door. He then punched the button on the Bluetooth device in his ear.

“Bring me up to speed on Scarlet Santana first thing tomorrow morning.”

O
n the other side of the country, the taxi driver slammed the car’s trunk after he unloaded Mary Theresa’s black overnight bag and set it on the entryway of the Palm Springs Sanctuary Hotel & Spa.

He’s cute and he’s checking me out,
she thought as she combed a piece of her flat-ironed hair behind her ear and held out a folded twenty-dollar bill between her freshly manicured nails. She raised an eyebrow and flirted with her eyes, just like Tyra Banks.

In the spirit of Olivia, Mary Theresa considered herself quite the hottie today. She had set up a sewing area in the family room and used her dress form to stitch a new outfit for her romantic getaway: a beige jersey knit wrap dress that hugged and draped the most flattering points of her trim figure. She’d never sported a plunging neckline in daylight before… or ever, for that matter, but today she worked it. The flowy hem hit just above her knee and she capped the ensemble with a tall set of zebra striped peep-toe platforms Scarlet had given her for good luck.

Me, Mary Theresa, in zebra-striped peep-toes? If only my employees could see this! So this is what beautiful, smart, healthy, and adventurous feels like,
Mary Theresa thought with a laugh on the taxi ride to the hotel.

Maybe winning the affection of a random stranger was a sign she could win back the heart of her husband. That was her mission. Hadley wasn’t supposed to return home for a few weeks, but on the advice of Olivia and Scarlet, Mary Theresa planned to “drop in.” What better way to prove how spontaneous she’d become than to surprise Hadley with a Saturday brunch?

Before she left for the trip, Mary Theresa practiced Scarlet’s—or rather, Daisy’s—Little Victories exercise. No fancy paper or embellishments, just accomplishments scribbled on index cards:

1. Quality time with her children. She recently discovered this meant eating the icing before the cake has been frosted; pillow fights after bedtime, mismatched socks to save time. And her all-time favorite: kisses on her cheeks while she read Rocky and Lucy their bedtime story.
   
2. Eating realistically. She now focused on the experience of family meals rather than the entrees. But she did plan to take a cooking class.
   
3. Being honest with those she loved and, most important, with herself. No more covering the truth for appearance’s sake.
   
4. Work. She still worked for DelTran Computronics part-time from home, but serendipitously fell into the world of sewing. After making play clothes for Rocky and Lucy from vintage patterns she bought at the antiques store, she graduated to designing her own versions and even ventured into pattern-making. Mary Theresa was so sure of her new calling, she applied for a business license so she could sell at art fairs, co-ops, and in online stores.
   
5. Lastly—her marriage. Mary Theresa would learn to elongate the best moments to appreciate her husband. After
   all, he shaped her children into loving, adorable little people she adored.
   

Those were her five little victories, and they all had taken place in the past two months. After Mary Theresa penned her cards, she decided to deviate from Scarlet’s plan. Instead of burning them, she would read them to Hadley.

She prayed her next little victory would happen tonight. Mary Theresa had wished on Rocky’s lucky rabbit foot keychain earlier that morning that she would reconcile with her husband and bring him home. Not by force or guilt, but by the power of 100 percent unconditional love.

The taxi pulled away down the resort’s cobbled driveway. Mary Theresa gripped her rolling overnight bag and boldly crossed the entrance of the Sanctuary Hotel & Spa.

*   *   *

That same Saturday, Johnny Scissors ordered his maid to fix him a double bourbon in a rock glass. He finished reading the new issue of
Entertainment Weekly
and slowly made his way to the office at the other end of his 2,000-square-foot penthouse.

“Sorry to keep you all waiting, I think best after a good sweat,” he said to the roomful of managers, lawyers, creative directors, and his marketing and public relations staff. He could smell the stench of annoyance, but didn’t let it affect his mood. Not one bit. “I met Scarlet Santana yesterday. Before I take her to the Met event next week, I need to know more. What does she have to offer us?”

The lights dimmed, and at the front of the room the walls parted to reveal a large projection screen. Johnny had asked his staff to compile a complete profile and they did not fail.

Lousia Brandt, director of the Johnny Scissors Emerging
Designers Program, stood at the front of the room, holding a remote. She clicked it and Scarlet’s website appeared from one side of the screen to the other.

The slideshow included pictures of Scarlet, her dresses, quotes, and sample posts from her blog. Every post was followed by a multitude of comments cheering her on.

“When our staff initially found out about Scarlet and DaisyForever.com, we were amused and thought it would be great publicity for JSED,” Louisa said. “But once we measured how valuable her online presence is for the eighteen-to-thirty-six female target market, we knew we had to act fast. Our initial plan was to contact her and invite her to host the site on our servers and through contract negotiations—”

The staff members chuckled as Louisa mimed finger quotes.

“And make her an employee of ours, and thus her blog our property. We drafted an entry-level position to lure her in, but then she applied for JSED and it solved our problem. Now we can say we discovered her.”

“Did you charge her tuition?” Johnny asked.

“Of course,” Louisa said through a crooked smile.

“Give Louisa a raise for that one.” Johnny laughed as he slapped the table. “Scarlet Santana is paying
us
to steal
her
blog. That’s how business is done, my friends.”

Louisa sped through a few more slides until she came to one showing Scarlet’s online store.

“She is also a designer; would you care to see her work?” Louisa asked.

“Not interested,” Johnny said. “I think we should take it up a notch and make her the face of our Daisy de la Flora line extension. She’s pretty enough to appeal to Eternal 14’s demographic. That will seal the deal for us.”

“I’ll get on that.” Louisa nodded.

“And then sell it, so I can be done with it once and for all,” Johnny said. “Before I escort her to the Met, I want to take her on a test run. Suit her up for the premiere of that new Eva Alegria flick. I’ll take her as my plus-one.”

*   *   *

Mary Theresa didn’t know whether or not to book a room at the hotel. She hoped to stay in Hadley’s, but she didn’t want to assume the game would go the way she planned. So she reserved a suite. Regardless of what happened she wanted to indulge in the serene setting of the hotel. And her suite would give her a home base to escape to if things went bad.

No wonder Hadley wasn’t in a rush to come home,
she thought as she admired the row of tall trees that stretched to the high lobby ceiling. While the front desk clerk checked her in, she picked up a spa brochure and ran her hands over the countertop’s art deco mosaics.

Her suite turned out to be in a private bungalow section away from the main hotel. Her plan was to drop off her suitcase, freshen up, and go to the bar for a drink before calling Hadley’s cell.
Why rush?
she thought. After what she had been through in the past months, she deserved pampering.

A massage, pedicure, and shower later, Mary Theresa glided through the main atrium and noticed several businessmen turn to gawk. One of them rose his glass to her, and she let out half a sneaky smile before slipping into the lounge. She spotted a booth framed by two tall marble pillars, offset from the main thoroughfare, and took a seat. Mary Theresa had never been much of a drinker, but the rum punch that a group of college girls was sipping with their dinner salads made her mouth water. So she ordered two, knowing she’d only get through half of one. And with each sip, she felt her face flush. She slowed
down because she didn’t want to be drunk when she phoned Hadley—just a little breezy.