Bead-Dazzled (23 page)

“This is what the cuffs will look like. I’ve got to make two in each color,” she explained. “I’m going to hand sew beads to make cinch belts, beaded cuffs and collars, beaded trims, and even beaded handles for cute handbags that Holly can carry. I’m going to bead-dazzle everything!”

“You better pick up the pace,” Charlie warned. “That little strip took forever to make.”

“She can’t,” Marjorie explained. “With that kind of handiwork, it’s either fast and sloppy or slow and beautiful.”

“I’ll find a way to move faster,” Emma promised. “Fast and fabulous, here we come!”

BEAD THERE, DONE THAT

L
exie was stressed on Friday afternoon.

Emma recognized the look on her face. She’d seen the same overwhelmed expression staring back at her from her bedroom mirror last week. Plus Lexie had missed two loops when fastening her woven metallic belt. To Emma, that said more than Lexie’s phony smile. Lexie always had everything tucked, buttoned, and zipped just right.

Lexie stood at the head of their table and tried to explain the format of a new outline, her plans for the creation of the Sphinx, as well as a slideshow detailing the building and repair of the huge statue. Clayton and Kayla interrupted with questions. Lexie dismissed them, plowing ahead with her own half-baked ideas. Chloe buried her head in a book, taking furious notes as she read. Emma suspected she’d given up on the group and was writing her own report.

“She’s a rat,” Macro muttered.

“Who?” Emma twisted to face him. “Lexie?”

“Chloe,” he whispered. “On a sinking ship, rats leave long before the ship goes down. She’s trying to save herself.”

Was this ship really sinking? Emma stared at Chloe flipping through a reference book and then at Lexie gesturing wildly. If this group project sunk and brought her grade down, her mother would be furious. There’d be no more bead parties for Allegra. There might be no more Allegra.

I’m going to quit the group, Emma decided. Ms. Ling is Mom’s friend. She’ll listen. I’ll get out and then….

She thought about Charlie quitting Allegra. She’d realized how much she needed him.

Does anyone here need me?
Emma wondered. Probably not. She hadn’t done anything for this project. She’d stayed silent, because it was easier than standing up to Lexie. But if the group went down it would be her fault too, for doing nothing.

“This isn’t working,” Emma announced suddenly. Then, as nicely as she could, she told them her reasons why.

Lexie and Clayton tried to argue, but Chloe, Marco, and even Kayla agreed.

Emma didn’t put any blame on Lexie. “The Sphinx idea is weak,” she said. “We need a new idea. A ‘wow’ idea.”

“There’s no time,” Lexie said. “We should keep the Sphinx.”

“Look,” Emma said, “when a zipper gets stuck on the way up your sweatshirt, it’s better to bring it down and start again than to keep yanking it and destroying the zipper.”

“That was weird, but I get it,” Clayton said.

“All you’ve done is doodle in your notebook and now you want to change everything?” Lexie accused Emma. “What gives you the right?”

“I gave up because—” Emma had to tread lightly here or Lexie would turn on her “—you took total control. But there’s too much to do and we need to all work together and not let you do it all. We need to start again.”

“Face it, Lex. What we have stinks.” Clayton said. Now everyone had come around and even Lexie knew it.

“Okay, fine.” Lexie shrugged. “If you all think we need a new idea, who has one?”

“I do,” Chloe said quietly, looking warily at Lexie. “I always liked the Egyptian fashion and beauty idea. It’s different than what the other groups are doing, and I even started doing my own research on it.” She opened her notebook to reveal pages and pages of detailed notes. “The Egyptians thought makeup had magical power. We can write about religious and spiritual ways it was used. Plus did you know Cleopatra used to bathe in donkey’s milk to keep her skin soft?”

“What an ass!” Clayton joked.

“You know, we could totally do a PowerPoint about fashion,” Lexie said, acting as if this were the first time she heard the idea.

“Emma has sketches we can use.” Chloe leaned over and pulled the slate-blue brocade sketchbook off the top of Emma’s pile of books. She flipped through the pages, stopping at early sketches for flouncy baby-doll dress in pastel swirls. “Oh, pretty!”

“Wrong sketchbook!” Emma cried, startling Chloe as she snatched it away. Emma had sewn and featured that baby-doll dress in Allegra Biscotti’s holiday pop-up shop! She couldn’t risk Chloe or Lexie or anyone discovering Allegra’s designs in her sketchbook. “Sorry, they’re in here.” She opened her other sketchbook, this one with a turquoise cover. She hugged it close as she turned the pages, making sure not to show the designs she was using for the Goin’ Green fashion show.

Everyone liked her drawings, even Lexie. Emma agreed to do final ink versions for a visual timeline of Egyptian fashion. Chloe would handle a presentation of make-up and grooming. Marco offered to crush flowers to mix perfumes like the ones the Egyptians wore. Clayton took on researching the fashion of men, slaves, and gods. Lexie volunteered to create a new outline of all the material. Kayla said she’d work right alongside Lexie.

Emma couldn’t believe it. These sketches had saved her not once but twice! Both times her inspiration had been right in front of her.

Ms. Ling approved their new idea and they moved into overdrive, working for the first time as a group.

“Maybe this ship will stay afloat,” Emma told Marco.

“Ahoy.” Marco smirked then returned to chewing his pencil and taking notes.

“I got a sewing machine for Christmas,” Chloe announced after a while. “I can try to make one of Emma’s sketches. A super simple one.”

“Are you good at sewing?” Kayla asked.

“I’m learning,” Chloe admitted.

“If it’s going to be gross, forget it!” Lexie said.

“It won’t be gross. I—” Emma began to offer to do the sewing then stopped. She had six dresses to sew for the fashion show. She didn’t have time for one more. Also, if she did too good a job, the class would take notice and there was a chance that someone could discover her double life. “I sew, too. Chloe can call me for help or tips or whatever,” Emma offered. “She should go for it.”

“Thanks.” Chloe gave her a grateful smile.

“Just remember that it’s a history project, not a fashion show,” Lexie warned, narrowing her dark eyes at Emma and Chloe.

“We’re not confused,” Emma assured her. “Believe me, I know the difference.”

Oh, how she wanted to rub Lexie’s nose it in it! If only she could tell her that she was truly working on both—that she was about to film a real fashion show to be shown at the biggest fashion benefit in New York City.

Emma bit her tongue. Sometimes keeping the Allegra secret was impossibly frustrating.

* * *

Holly blew a bubble with her kiwi-strawberry gum and examined herself in the full-length mirror propped in the corner of Emma’s studio.

“Strike a pose. Raise your arms,” Emma commanded.

Immediately after school and throughout the weekend, she’d tackled all the sewing with Marjorie’s help, creating the high-necked gown in red, the one-shouldered gold gown, the green column, the gold tunic with the keyhole neckline (which turned out to be trickier than she’d anticipated). Plus the mini toga, and the boat-neck dress with side slits. The sewing went quickly—there was so much draping and tying thanks to the Egyptian influence that it was more about cutting and wrapping with fairly simple sewing. Monday afternoon she convinced Holly to call in sick to volleyball practice. As much as she loved her Girls, Emma needed a living, breathing model to show her how the clothes moved.

For the last hour, Holly had slipped on each outfit. Emma fixed hems and finished off seams. She adjusted zippers and closures, making sure the fabric didn’t bunch up or pull in any areas. She needed the fit to be perfect before she added the beads.

She gazed at the rows upon rows of egg cartons spilling over with beads in every size, shape, and color of the rainbow. Sparkly, smooth, faceted, flat, round, clear, pearly, creamy….

“All I have to do now is sew on a red crystal collar,” she said pointing to the first, simple gown, “and a spray of topaz crystals—” for what she still thought of as Francesca’s gown, “plus a collar in all these different shades of green glass beads, a smattering of red corona crystals, trimmed in delicate millefiori.”

The impossibility of all of this handwork was beginning to sink in. “And five more cuffs for three pairs total,” she added, holding up the one cuff that had taken her two hours to complete. “It will only take me…all year.” She looked at Holly and Marjorie with fear and desperation. “I used to not be able to say it, but I’m saying it now. I need serious help.”

“Count me out,” Marjorie said. “My eyes are too old and my hands are too stiff for that teeny, tiny hand sewing.”

“Don’t look at me!” Holly cried. “I hate crafty stuff.”

Emma sighed. Charlie and her Mom had no interest in beading. Francesca had tried earlier and sent all the beads scattering. Dad was too busy, and she’d sooner dial up Kate Middleton at the palace and ask her to bead before she’d dare ask Paige.

She was on her own.

“You are not going to believe who I saw downstairs,” Charlie said, as he entered the studio. “Jackson!”

Emma nearly spilled all her beads. “He was here? At Laceland.”

“Weird, huh?” Charlie shrugged. “He was just hanging about the lobby. I told him I was coming up to see you. I even asked if he wanted to come with me. Impressive of me, right?”

“And?” Emma tried to make sense of what Jackson was doing downstairs.

“He said no. Mumbled something about me being back and took off. Strange dude.” Charlie rolled his eyes.

“I need to call him.” Emma pulled out her phone.

“Wait up. Big news. We’re a go!” Charlie announced. “Paige said that we’re filming with Sven on Friday.”

“That’s not going to work.” Emma put down her phone and explained all the time she needed for the beading.

“The benefit is next week. Sven is hopping a plane to Los Angeles that night. It’s Friday or never,” Charlie said. “Maybe lose the beads?”

“No way!” Emma cried. The beads were the sparkle, the pizzazz, the bling. “They’re part of the ‘wow.’”

Charlie pointed to the clock. “You need the ‘wow’
now
.”

“How wow now? Sounds like Dr. Seuss.” Holly blew another fruity bubble and shifted to avoid being stuck by the straight pins in the dress. “Em, can I go to the bathroom and get back into my jeans?”

“Of course.” Emma smoothed the fabric panel. When her hands were busy, she thought more clearly. “There has to be a way to do this. You’re good at solving problems, Charlie. How can I sew or glue on thousands of tiny beads really fast?”

“Sewing machine?”

“A sewing machine won’t work. They have to be put on the old-fashioned way. I can’t do that by myself,” Emma said, frustrated. “If there were three or four of me….”

“How about cloning?” Charlie offered.

“Yeah, right, or if I was part of triplets. Sewing sisters.”

“Sisters!” Charlie cried. “Do you remember in front of the movie theater?”

“Yes! That woman Adja! She had sisters, and they all beaded. Charlie, you’re a genius!” Emma jumped up.

“I have mentioned that before.” Charlie gave a smug smile.

“Adja’s been beading in her village in Senegal since she was born. She’s expert at this.” Emma explained to Marjorie about Adja and the incredible jewelry she sold.

“Why do you think she’ll help?” Marjorie asked. “You don’t know her, and she doesn’t know you.”

Emma admitted the idea was a bit out there.

A lot out there.

“We need to find her.” Charlie began typing information into different Internet search engines. “We don’t have her phone number. We don’t know her last name. Nothing’s coming up.”

“She’s not going to pop up magically on a screen,” Emma said. “Close the computer, Charlie. Back to the movie theater!”

“Street vendors move around. She could be anywhere in this huge city,” Marjorie warned. “It’s cold outside. You’re better off staying put and coming up with another plan.”

“I’m already on Plan B, and I like Plan B. I’m not going to Plan C, whatever that is. Not yet.” Emma paced her small workspace. Her Girls wore the three longer dresses that Holly had tried on earlier. The shorter ones hung on a garment rack. She still needed to do some finishing work, but they looked really good. Emma knew, though, that they’d look so much better with the beads.

She needed to find Adja.

She stopped in front of her eight-foot-high inspiration wall. It was plastered with photos from fashion magazines, fabric swatches, snapshots of street fashion, and sketches she’d drawn. She unpinned a small, black-and-white photo of the old-time actress Audrey Hepburn. Audrey wore the elegant little black dress and long black gloves she’d made famous, and underneath the photo was her quote: “
I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day, and I believe in miracles.
”