Miss Scarlet's School of Patternless Sewing Read Free Page B

unimpressed.
    Scarlet stiffened. “If that were true, you’d know that the A-line skirt you’re wearing is a half size too big.” The words spilled out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop it.
    “Oh really,” Carly replied. “Well, it appears you’re coming apart at the seams. Is that a hole in your jacket or is that how Kim Novak wore it in the film?”
    Scarlet clenched her teeth and grazed her hand over the side of her rib cage and, indeed, felt flesh.
    Double darn! I should have never pulled that loose thread!
    Carly released a sigh of boredom. “Request denied.” She leaned back in her wide black leather chair as if to wrap up the meeting.
    “Maybe partner is out of the question—for now,” Scarlet pleaded. “But I should at least be promoted to designer. We both know my work hits a target market you haven’t been able to penetrate.”
    “Out of the question, at least until you enroll in fashion courses,” Carly stated. “If you choose that path, I’ll gladly move your hours around your schedule. I’m sorry, Scarlet, that’s where I stand.”
    Scarlet couldn’t believe her ears. Desperation bubbled up. “You
know
I have two degrees, both of them in coveted areas of engineering. One is in structural, isn’t that what dressmakingis? My other degree is chemical engineering, which lends itself to textile science.”
    Carly shook her head. “Your spin won’t work on me.”
    “In life, you have to stray outside the lines to stand out,” Scarlet said. “My engineering skills could be a secret weapon if only you opened your mind. Do you know I could be earning four times my pay right now? I gave that up for my love of the craft. I’m dedicated. I’m a valuable resource and I’m right here under your nose. I’m already considered an expert! You know the patternless sewing workshop series I’m teaching here? Well, it’s sold out!”
    Carly’s eyes opened wider than jumbo buttons. “Workshop
series
? What do you mean,
here
?”
    “
Here
, as in… the production room. I requested it months ago and you approved. I saved the e-mail.”
    “I can’t allow a private workshop here,” Carly said. “I can’t risk the potential damage. I’d probably have to take out extra insurance. Those are lines I’m not about to cross.”
    Scarlet stared blankly at that flashy gold pen resting in Carly’s pencil cup. Patternless Sewing began in three days. Twenty-four students and no place to put them. She wouldn’t dare cancel. Her credibility would be shot. Even worse, no Johnny Scissors tuition money.
    “Scarlet, I do have some good news,” Carly announced. “You are doing an excellent job as my assistant. I’m giving you a ninety-five cent weekly pay increase.”
    “$49.40 a year? Thank you,” Scarlet said as she rubbed her thumb over the hole in her jacket. One last thought came to her mind.
    “What if I told you I was accepted into the Johnny Scissors Emerging Designers Program? What if I completed it and earned a fashion degree that way?” Scarlet asked.
    Carly let out a mini snort, and rose to escort Scarlet out of her office. “Wouldn’t we all love to be accepted into that program? I’ve applied every year since college. I hear Marc Jacobs and Stella McCartney are each starting rival programs. You’re so cute, Scarlet. The day you bring me a diploma from Johnny Scissors is the day I make you partner. Now, get back to work.”
    *   *   *
    Twenty-four hours later, Scarlet arrived at her parents’ Peoria home with a tub of creamy mashed potatoes in tow. On the drive over she vowed, as she always did, that under no circumstances would she bring up fashion, fabric, Carly Fontaine, or Daisy. Much less Johnny Scissors.
    Thanksgiving dinner went like clockwork. The house was filled with chatty aunts in the kitchen, uncles clustered in front of the big-screen TV watching the football game, kids running rampant from one door to the next, and a dozen cousins downing beers on the