Runway Ready (4 page)

The chauffeur drove them straight to Victoria Vanderweil's design studio in the heart of the Fashion District.

“Do you think she'll be okay with us arriving unannounced?” Mickey whispered to JC.

“Do we have a choice?” He pointed to Cordy, who was anxiously hanging out the window of the limo with Madonna.

“We're here!” she said, as the car pulled up in front of a large building.

“Follow me,” Cordy said, taking Mickey by the hand. “I know where it is.”

Inside the building, Cordy cheerfully waved to the security guard and walked them straight to the elevator bank.

“Press the eight button,” she instructed JC.

“Yes, ma'am,” JC replied.

When the elevator opened, Cordy led them down a long hallway to a door with gold letters on it. It read “House of V.”

Mickey took a deep breath. “My palms are sweating,” she whispered to JC.

Before he could respond, Cordy opened the door and bounded inside, marching past the receptionist at the front desk and straight into the studio. “Granny Vicky!” she called. “Come see, come see!”

“Sorry!” Mickey apologized, running after Cordy.

Inside the studio, a petite woman with silvery gray hair pinned in a bun emerged from behind a rack of clothing. She was dressed in a dark pair of jeans, a white sweater, and a chic black blazer.

Mickey elbowed JC in the ribs. “It's her!” she whispered. “I think I'm gonna faint!”

JC nodded. “Oh good. You can break my fall when I pass out after you.”

“Cordelia! What are you doing here?” Victoria asked, surprised.

Mickey cleared her throat. “Ahem, we brought her,” she said. “Me…him…her…” She realized she wasn't making any sense.

“Who are you?” the designer asked.

“Oh! I'm Mickey Williams, and this is my friend Javen Cumberland.”

“She means Kenzie Wills and JC Canine Couture designs,” JC jumped in. “We're designers—from the Fashion Academy of Brooklyn.”

“Ah, yes,” the woman said. “Chester Kaye's students.”

“Yes! Yes! Chester's students,” Mickey tried her hardest not to giggle at her teacher's funny first name. “I won the challenge for designing a party dress for Cordy, and JC—”

“Made a sweater with your darling granddaughter for your dog, Princess Puffynose!” JC jumped in. He scooped up Madonna and held her in front of Victoria's face so she could get a good look.

“Lovely workmanship,” she said, fingering the sweater and scratching Madonna between the ears. “There's just one small problem.”

“What? I can fix it!” JC replied.

“Can you make it about eight sizes larger?”

JC looked confused. “Is Princess Puffynose a dog or a grizzly bear?”

“A Dalmatian,” Victoria said, finding a silver framed photo on her desk and showing it to him. “A fifty-two-pound one, to be exact.”

“Oh.” JC's heart sunk. “I see where the polka dot part came from. Cordy, did you forget to tell us that Puffynose is a
big
doggie?”

“And her name is Prudence. Cordelia had trouble saying that when she was a baby, so she called her Puffynose.”

Mickey nodded. “Gotcha. I couldn't say my grandma Barbara's name when I was little so I called her Boo-Boo.”

“Boo-Boo! That's funny!” Cordy cracked up.

JC was mortified. “This sweater will never fit Prudence. I'm so sorry.”

Victoria brushed it off with a wave of her hand. “Not to worry. Prudy isn't much of a fashionista anyway. My granddaughter, however, is.” She playfully ruffled Cordy's curls. “And she told me all about your design for her party dress. I can't wait to see it.”

Mickey's heart jumped in her chest. “Really? I can't wait to show it to you! Cordy is going to look so pretty for her birthday party.”

Victoria smiled. “Did you have fun with these two lovely young students, Cordelia, dear?”

“Yes!” Cordy replied enthusiastically. “Can they buddy sit me again?”

“I think she means B-A-B-Y sit her,” Mickey spelled.

“I don't see why not,” Victoria said, taking an invitation off her desk and handing it to Mickey. “Why don't you meet me here Saturday at noon? I was planning on bringing Cordy since she loves fancy parties so much. It would be very helpful to have an extra pair of eyes or two watching her.”

“You're not kidding,” JC muttered under his breath.

Mickey looked at the invite. “OMG! Really? We can come?” It was an invitation to a luncheon given by the Women Designers of America Association.

“Why yes,” Victoria replied. “A good friend of mine is receiving the WDAA Achievement Award, and I'm introducing her.”

“We are so there,” JC said, snatching the invitation out of Mickey's hands.

“Excellent!” Victoria said. “Cordy and I will expect you.”

Mickey tried on a third outfit and looked in the full-length mirror in Aunt Olive's room. “I don't know,” she said, studying the navy-blue sheath from every angle. She'd paired the simple knee-length dress with a gold chain-link belt and black platform loafers. “It just doesn't feel right. It's too stuffy.” Frustrated, she flopped down on Olive's bed.

“What is it you always tell me? Fashion speaks volumes?” Olive asked. “What do you want your look to say?”

“That I belong at a WDAA luncheon. That I'm destined to be a member of their club one day because I have my own strong sense of style.”

“Then say that,” Olive said, poking her. “I know you can.”

Once again, Mickey disappeared into her closet and rummaged through the racks. This time, she chose a purple silk blouse and a black suede miniskirt with a fringed hem. When she pulled on a pair of tall leather boots and gold hoop earrings, the entire outfit came together.

“By George, I think she's got it!” Olive teased when Mickey came into her room to model. “Just one more thing…”

She pulled out her purple cashmere trapeze jacket and handed it to her niece.

“Oh, Aunt Olive. This is perfect! Are you sure? It's so expensive.”

“I'm sure.” Olive beamed. “Go get 'em!”

When Mickey arrived at the hotel where the luncheon was being held, JC was already out front waiting for her. He was wearing a chocolate-brown velvet suit and a pink tie.

“Don't we look stylish?” he asked, offering his arm like a gentleman. “Shall we?”

Mickey giggled. “Do you really think we can pull this off?” she asked. “I mean, we're just fashion students—not world-famous designers.”

“Speak for yourself,” JC teased. He pulled a Sharpie marker out of his pocket. “I'm ready to sign autographs.”

They walked in and gave their names at the check-in table. “Yes, you're guests of Ms. Vanderweil,” the woman replied. “Go right in.”

The private banquet room was decked out with red-and-gold table linens, sparkling crystal, and enormous floral centerpieces. All the guests were dressed to the nines in the most fabulously fashionable attire, and the room was filled with famous designers, supermodels, and celebrities.

“OMG!” JC said, grabbing her arm. “Is that Isaac Mizrahi? I'm gonna faint!”

Mickey steadied him. “I'm sure anyone who's anyone in fashion will be here,” she whispered. “We have to stay cool and calm.” Just then, Heidi Klum strolled by and Mickey practically fell over. “Heidi. It's Heidi!”

“So much for calm and cool,” JC said.

But before they could mingle with the
Project Runway
host and judge, Cordy found them. “You're here! Come color with me!” she said, dragging Mickey by the hand to her table.

A frazzled-looking banquet manager had given her a stack of paper and some crayons and was delighted that reinforcements had arrived. “Yes!” the woman practically cheered. “Please go color with her.”

“Um, sure,” Mickey said as Heidi disappeared into the crowd. “What are we drawing, Cordy?”

Cordy handed her a red crayon. “A princess in a castle roller-skating with a penguin,” she replied. “And they're eating pepperoni pizza at midnight.”

JC raised an eyebrow. “This kid's got some imagination.”

“She kinda reminds me of me when I was her age,” Mickey told him. “I used to give my Barbie dolls extreme makeovers.”

She sat down and began to sketch. “No, make her dress longer,” Cordy instructed. “And she needs a crown—and pearls.”

Mickey obeyed. “Pearls, of course. Every princess needs pearls.” She noticed that Cordy had a strand of delicate pink ones around her neck.

“Do you see Ms. Vanderweil anywhere?” Mickey asked JC.

“Negative. But I'm pretty sure that's Betsey Johnson over there chatting up Isaac.”

“Great,” Mickey groaned. She desperately wanted to go meet all the famous designers in the room, but Cordy insisted they stay by her side and color.

“I have an idea,” JC whispered to Mickey. He turned to Cordy. “So, who wants to go and get some cookies?”

The little girl's eyes lit up. “Cookies? Where?”

“Over there.” JC motioned to the far corner of the room. “I know I saw a waiter with a big, silver tray of pink-sprinkled cookies shaped like shoes.”

“Where?” Cordy stood on her chair. “I don't see him.”

“Well, let's go find him then,” Mickey said, following JC's lead. “Let's go get the cookie guy.”

Cordy was already several steps in front of them yelling, “Cookie guy! Cookie guy!”

“Brilliant,” she said to JC. “The pink-sprinkle part was the best.”

Cordy was already cutting through the crowd, and they did their best to follow her.

“Excuse me. Pardon me,” JC said, elbowing his way through. He accidentally bumped a man's arm and spilled his drink. “Oops! My bad!” JC exclaimed as the guest turned around and glared.

It was Isaac!

“Mr. Mizrahi.” JC practically bowed in his presence. “You are my fashion idol. I wanna be you!”

Isaac helped him stand up. “Darling, be yourself! There's already plenty of me out there.”

JC found Mickey peeking under tablecloths in search of Cordy. “Pinch me!” he pleaded with her. “I just talked to Isaac.”

Mickey sighed. “Great. You're meeting fashion royalty, and I'm on my knees crawling around looking for Cordy.”

“There you two are,” said a voice behind them. It was Victoria. “What are you doing on the floor?” she asked, confused.

“Shoes! I love shoes!” Mickey quickly covered. “I was just admiring everyone's under the table. Ooh, look! Jimmy Choo!”

“I'd prefer you to keep your eyes on my granddaughter and make sure she behaves.”

“Not to worry,” Mickey reassured her. “We're on Cordy patrol.”

Victoria looked around. “Where is she?”

Mickey swallowed hard. “Where is she? She's…she's…”

“She's coloring at your table,” JC fibbed. “We just went to get her some prettier colors—cornflower blue and cotton candy.” There was no way they could tell Victoria that her granddaughter was up to her disappearing tricks again.

“Fine, but don't leave her alone for too long,” Victoria warned them.

“We know,” Mickey said. “Believe me, we know.”

A voice over the loudspeaker announced the start of the luncheon program. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would kindly take your seats. We'll begin.”

“That's my cue,” Victoria said. “I'm introducing the honoree.”

“Have fun,” JC said, waving. He pulled Mickey aside. “We have to find Little Miss Tiny Terror before Granny gets back to her seat.”

“Look!” Mickey said. She spotted a pink ruffled dress darting between guests a few feet away by the stage. “I think I see her.”

A security guard jumped in front of them. “Seats, please.”

“But, we can't—not just yet,” Mickey tried to explain.

“Seats,” the guard repeated. There was no way he was letting them through.

“Fine,” Mickey told him. “But you'll be sorry.”

They returned to their table, hoping Cordy would be escorted back as well.

“Might as well enjoy ourselves,” JC said, helping himself to a basket of rolls and butter. He glanced down at the program on his plate and skimmed it. “Oh no.” He gasped. “Do you know who the honoree is? The person Victoria is introducing?”

“Shh!” Mickey hushed him. Victoria was onstage, clearing her throat.

“There is not a single person in this room—I daresay in the world—who does not know the name Bridget Lee…”

Mickey's mouth dropped. “Bridget Lee? As in Jade and Jake Lee's mother?”

JC shoved the program under her nose. “That's what I was trying to tell you.”

Victoria continued. “Her designs are exquisite, as is the woman herself. Without further ado, I give you this year's WDAA honoree, my dear friend, Bridget Lee.”

There was thunderous applause, then Bridget took the stage with Jade and Jake by her side. “I am so honored,” she said, kissing Victoria on both cheeks. “Next to being a mother, I consider my fashion label my proudest achievement.”

Suddenly, the lights went out and the entire ballroom was pitch-black.

JC and Mickey had the same thought at the same time:
Cordy!

There were gasps and cries from the audience. “Don't panic, everyone,” Victoria called from the stage. “I'm sure it's just a fuse and the lights will come on shortly.”

Mickey knew better. “I'm going to find her,” she whispered to JC. She headed toward Victoria's voice, feeling her way through the tables. “Cordy?” she whispered. “Cordy, what did you do?”

She thought she heard giggling coming from the right side of the room and made her way in that direction. She got down on all fours and called the little troublemaker again. “Cordy? Come out, come out wherever you are!”

When a few lights flickered back on, Mickey realized she was on the floor, staring at someone's stunning pink stilettos.

“May I help you?” Heidi Klum bent down and asked her.

“Me? No, I'm good. Nice shoes!” She was mortified but managed to stand up, dust herself off, and continue toward the electrical closet down the hall. Inside, she found Cordy standing on a stool, flipping switches on the lighting panel for the ballroom.

“Cordy! What are you doing?” she asked, pulling the little girl down. “You could fall and hurt yourself.”

“I'm playing hide-and-seek,” she replied. “I win.”

Mickey turned the lights back on, then took Cordy firmly by the hand. “Yes, you win! Let's go back to the table and get your prize.”

“What is it?” Cordy asked excitedly. “Is it a dolly? Or a puppy?”

“You'll have to come with me and find out,” Mickey said, trying her best not to disrupt the presentation any further. Jade and Jake were standing onstage beaming as Bridget went on and on about her long career as a designer for Hollywood's elite.

“What did I miss?” she asked JC. She pulled Cordy on her lap and locked her arms around the child's waist.

“Oh, praise be to Lady Gaga.” JC heaved a sigh of relief. “You got her back.”

“Where's my prize?” Cordy demanded. “I want my prize.”

JC looked confused. “What did
I
miss?”

“Cordy won our hide-and-seek game, so I promised her a prize,” Mickey explained. “Any ideas?”

JC pulled a Chihuahua-sized shiny rhinestone dog collar out of his pocket. “How about a diamond bracelet?” he asked Cordy.

“Oooh! Yes!” Cordy said, grabbing it out of his fingertips. She put it on her wrist and waved it in the air.

“Look, Granny Vicky!” she shouted at the stage. “I got a diamond bracelet! Look, everybody! Look what I got!”

Mickey's cheeks flushed bright red. The entire audience was now staring in her direction, and Bridget Lee was speechless. Jade was the only one smiling—she looked like a cat that had swallowed a canary.

Mickey hoped Victoria had a good sense of humor and would wave back at her granddaughter. Instead, she stood by Bridget, furrowing her brow and pursing her lips tightly. Then she motioned for Cordy to zip hers as well.

“Granny's not happy,” JC whispered to Mickey.

“Just my luck,” Mickey said, sighing. “Tomorrow is the day South and I present our designs.”

Cordy went back to coloring and the program continued, but Mickey had a sinking feeling this WDAA luncheon would be her last.