Olivia Bennett - The Allegra Biscotti Collection

She had sewn something so structured only a couple of times before, and that had been with her grandmother sitting right next to her, coaching her like an air-traffic controller guiding in a plane. Step by step. I hope I can remember all the tricks Grandma Grace taught me, Emma thought as she worked two sleeve pieces together under the bobbing silver needle.

Emma studied the newly sewn sleeve and the open armhole. Attaching the sleeve correctly was the trickiest part. Her hands began to flutter. If I measured and cut the patterns right, the sleeve should fit perfectly. But by the time she had re-threaded the machine, her hands were trembling.

How she wished her grandmother was here beside her—or at least in her condo in Florida. Then she’d only be a phone call away to talk Emma through the hard stuff. It figured that the one time Emma really needed her, Grandma Grace was off on a one-month honeymoon cruise around the world with her new husband, Elliot. What was he thinking in taking her grandma on some huge ship way out in the ocean and making her completely unreachable? She wasn’t due back until more than a week after Emma had to turn in Allegra’s collection to Madison .

Emma stood and walked around her worktable a few times. Shake it off, she told herself. You can do this. Just go slowly but confidently—that’s what Grandma Grace would say. The minute the machine thinks it’s controlling you and you’re not controlling it, you’re doomed. Be the boss!

Emma sat back down, picked up the garment pieces, and positioned them in the machine. She pressed her foot down on the pedal to start the motor. But within seconds, the sleeve was bunched up and crooked. She yanked everything out, removed the botched stitches, and tried again. And then again. After five tries, she still couldn’t get it right.

She needed to get these sleeves done today so she could stay on schedule. She grabbed her cell off the table behind her. She hit the speed dial and held her breath. She didn’t want to bother her grandmother on her honeymoon, but this was an emergency—and Emma was desperate. She knew her grandmother, who loved making clothes as much as Emma did, would totally understand why Emma needed to interrupt her cruise.

The call went right into voice mail. Emma jammed her finger down on the red button. Great. No service.

Emma debated calling Charlie. If it were a Paige issue, she wouldn’t have hesitated. But what would Charlie possibly do about a misaligned sleeve? She looked around her empty studio, the force of the realization hitting her like an oncoming city bus. I’m on my own, she thought. When it comes to making the clothes, I’m really on my own.

She couldn’t decide if that was scary…or exciting. It might just be both.

“Do you have the invoices from August ready?” Marjorie asked.

“August…yes, I have them here,” Emma said, flipping through the stack on her lap. Emma had made the mistake fifteen minutes earlier of pacing out of her studio to calm herself. Caught not working at work, she had no choice but to drop the sleeve problem and deal with the invoice problem. Normally, it wasn’t a big deal—going through invoices with Marjorie—but today every minute away from her sleeve and her studio felt like hours.

Marjorie slowly read off the names of companies and the shipments they sent. Way too slowly.

“You can go faster,” Emma suggested. “Or maybe we can switch, and I can read off the list.”

Marjorie took off her glasses and raised a pre-arched, penciled eyebrow at Emma. “What’s going on over there? You got somewhere better to be?”

“Not really,” Emma said as she fidgeted in the uncomfortable vinyl guest chair. “I just have a lot going on right now.” Like sleeves that won’t align, Emma thought, and the English paper I haven’t even started yet that’s due tomorrow. And all the sewing I have to do in less than a week.

“Anything I can help with? A big project, maybe?” Marjorie asked.

Emma froze. Does Marjorie know something? There’s no way Marjorie could’ve figured out the Allegra thing—is there?

“I don’t think so…but thanks.”

“Okay, then.” Marjorie put her glasses back on. “Let’s see. Where was I? Do you have the one for Global Lace Mills?”

Just then, Emma’s phone tucked in her jeans’ pocket buzzed. She slid it out slightly, peeking at the screen. A text from Paige Young. What could Paige want? Marjorie was still reading through the list no faster than before. Emma squirmed in her seat.

“I think that covers August, unless you have any extra invoices there,” Marjorie said, looking over the top of her rhinestone-embellished reading glasses. Emma wasn’t quite sure if Marjorie wore them to be retro cool (which they were!), or if she just hadn’t stopped wearing them since the first time they were in style.

“Nope—we’re all set. I just need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a second.” Emma tossed her pile of papers on Marjorie’s desk and dashed down the hall and into the warehouse. She pulled out her phone.

Ms. B: Need sumthing 4 online preview of Designers 2 Watch section. Can I come by ur studio 2 see ur collection & take some digi-photos? Pls advise. Ciao, PY

Here? I can’t have Paige come here, Emma thought. There’s nothing to see, because I’ve barely started. She gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned red. How could she possibly put off Paige without making her suspicious? Emma speed-dialed Charlie.

“What’s up?” Charlie said.

Emma told him about Paige’s request as she walked quickly back and forth up the dark aisles lined with boxes and bolts of lace. “What do I do?”

Charlie was quiet for a minute. “Hmm. That’s a tricky one. How about you tell Paige that Allegra has like, a policy that she doesn’t allow editors to see her stuff while she’s working on it?”

Emma paused as she let that idea sink in. “That sounds sort of believable, I guess. But wait—how will I explain why Paige was able to see Allegra’s dresses when she first came to Laceland?”

“Easy,” Charlie replied. “Paige wasn’t supposed to see the dresses that time, remember? She just happened to be at Laceland and was being nosy and found the dresses herself. Not that you’d say it that way, but you know what I mean. She wasn’t invited to see the dresses. So you could just say that Allegra’s interns—meaning us—were new and didn’t know her policy.”

“You’re right. Okay, that works. Got it. I have to get off so I can send the text and get back to Marjorie.” Emma’s eyes slid toward the hallway to make sure Marjorie wasn’t looking for her.

“I’ll let you go right after you admit that I am a brilliant mastermind,” he said.

“Oh, please!” Emma laughed. “Fine. Good-bye, brilliant mastermind!”

Emma quickly typed a text to Paige explaining her “policy” and pressed send. She took a few steps back toward the reception area, and her phone vibrated again.

OK. Can I get them 1 or 2 days early so I can c them b4 my boss does? Need 2 know what I’m working with ahead of time. I can’t afford any surprises.

Emma frantically typed her response.