Designer Drama Read Online Free Page B

about—so she just nodded her head in agreement. “I can see you don’t like each other very much.”
    Mr. Kaye took a deep breath. “He is not to be trusted. I don’t know why he’s here in New York, but it’s no doubt to sabotage me.”
    Mickey actually liked Tony’s idea about Gauguin’s bold colors, but she could never tell Mr. Kaye where it had come from. “I’m just going to find some fluorescent-pink and green silks,” she said. Mr. Kaye didn’t even hear her. He was still mumbling to himself—something about “a barracuda with no taste or style.”
    Mickey noticed Jade pushing Jake toward a display of buttons and trims. “Not those buttons. Honestly, do you have any taste that’s not in your mouth?” Jade asked her brother.
    Jade realized then that Mickey was watching her. “Yoo-hoo, Mickey! The burlap is in the basement,” Jade called to her. “And the bargain bin: twenty-five cents a yard!”
    Mickey realized she knew exactly how Mr. Kaye felt. Tony was his Jade Lee! As much as Mickey tried to ignore them, the snarky remarks and mean jabs hurt—and they chipped away at her confidence.
    She looked back at Mr. Kaye and knew she had only one option: to win for both of them.

Mickey had spent nearly all weekend staring at her dress form, Edith. She’d named her after the famous Hollywood designer, Edith Head. But now neither she—nor Edith—looked particularly happy with the result of her design. It was a simple halter-top jumpsuit, covered in assorted neon fabric squares, arranged in a woven, checkered pattern. All she could think about was what Jade had said—“Are you making a patchwork quilt?”—because that’s what her design looked like.
    Aunt Olive came in Mickey’s bedroom and rested a plate of kale cookies and a cup of chamomile tea on her nightstand.
    â€œTough assignment?” she asked. “You’ve been at it all day.”
    Mickey sighed. “Impossible. I just can’t see it.”
    Olive looked at Edith. “I think it’s too tidy.” Coming from her aunt—a legal secretary and neat freak who believed in moderation, precision, and exacting detail—that sounded strange.
    â€œToo tidy?” Mickey asked.
    Olive chose her words carefully. “I think it feels like you’re trying too hard.”
    Mickey rested her head on her desk. She knew Olive was right. She was trying too hard. The design wasn’t flowing like it usually did. She was thinking too much about what people would say when they saw it—and not about what she wanted to say as a designer.
    â€œI’m calling JC,” Mickey finally said. “He’s my partner on this project, and I need his advice.”
    She used FaceTime on her phone so her friend could get a look at what she’d created.
    â€œA little more to the right…no the left,” JC said as she held up her phone to Edith’s outfit.
    â€œNow back up,” JC added. “Way, way up. Can you leave the room?”
    â€œLeave the room?” Mickey asked. “Why?”
    â€œIt’s just… Well, it’s not working. It looks like something I finger-painted in kindergarten! Wait…are those bell-bottoms? Eek! It keeps getting worse!”
    â€œJC!” Mickey moaned. “You’re making me feel worse!”
    â€œI’m sorry. I’m just being honest,” he replied. “You called me for my opinion.”
    Mickey nodded. “I did. So what do you think?”
    â€œI think you should shred that outfit and start all over,” JC suggested. “Doesn’t your aunt have one of those document shredders for work?”
    Mickey gritted her teeth. “Not helping.” Then an idea came to her. “Wait! That’s it.”
    â€œWhat’s i t ?” JC asked.
    â€œShred it! I should shred it!”
    â€œUh, yeah. Back to the