“Holls, do you want to come with me?” Emma asked.
Holly glanced sideways at Lexie, Shannon, and Kayla. “Nah, I’ll slow you down. We’ll just wander around and meet you at the dressing room.” She hesitated, as if she wanted to say more. “You good?”
Emma flashed a thumbs-up and took off.
She decided to go for a super-funky party look. She ran over to a rack displaying sparkly, sequined clothes. She quickly slid hangers across the rail until she found two totally cute skirts— a knee-length one that appeared to be made out of liquid gold and a mini covered in pink sequins.
These are completely great…but which one will look better on Holly? She held them up and gazed back and forth between them. Both good, she decided. She slung them over her arm. She’d figured it out later. The clock was ticking.
Okay, now I need something to counter the girliness of the skirts, Emma thought. Something with a little edge. She spun in a circle, scanning the mannequins set up on waist-high risers throughout the floor, hoping for a hint.
Nothing jumped out at her.
Then she had an idea. She hopped on the escalator and jogged three flights up to the boys’ department. She was looking for a sugar-and-spice, opposites-attract vibe.
A couple of steps into boyland, and she spotted exactly what she needed. T-shirts with cool, boldly colored Japanese anime characters like the ones in the comic books Charlie was obsessed with. Love these, she thought. Not what anyone would expect for a night out at all. She grabbed small sizes so they’d be very fitted on Holly.
She zoomed back to the escalator and checked the clock on her phone. Only five minutes left. Emma hurried down the moving steps, working her way around customers who preferred to lounge against the handrails while being carried to their destination.
Back on the second floor, Emma flew through the accessories department for a fistful of skinny, metallic, studded belts. She hung them over the crook of her elbow along with her other items. She darted into the shoe department, and knowing she wouldn’t have time to wait for Holly’s size, just grabbed two sample pairs of strappy sandals—in gold and silver—from the sale rack. Holly’s toes could poke over the size-six sole.
Now I need a cute jacket for Holly to wear on top, Emma calculated as she headed back to the teen clothing area. Focusing her search on a long rack against the side wall, she nabbed a fierce black-denim jacket trimmed with tons of zippers; a cropped, swingy jacquard jacket with three-quarter-length sleeves; and a fuzzy, light-gray, mohair sleeveless cardigan sweater. One of these should do the trick, she thought.
At the last moment, she whisked a whisper-thin, long-sleeve cream T-shirt and a flirty white ruffled tank off a nearby table—just in case. She burst through the entrance of the dressing room, somewhat out of breath.
Kayla and Shannon sat on a couch, flipping through the store catalog.
“You totally just made it,” Kayla remarked. “You had like thirty seconds left.”
Holly hurried over. “Wow! Look at all this stuff. Come on, I have a dressing room. Ivana and Lexie are already here styling.”
Emma hung the different pieces around the dressing room as Holly stripped out of her winter white cords and roll-necked sweater and down to her underwear and bra.
“Do you think we’ll win?” Holly asked.
“I could dress you in a shopping bag, and you’d look fabulous,” Emma told her. It was true. Suddenly, Emma wished she had thought to let Holly try on the raspberry dress before she’d gifted it to Paige. Holly had the perfect body for it.
“I doubt it,” Holly said, slipping into the gold skirt Emma had pulled off the hanger for her.
“Em, this totally reminds me of playing dress-up in my mom’s closet. Remember?” Holly zipped herself in. The skirt fell perfectly, just as Emma knew it would.
Emma laughed. “Of course, I remember. A girl never forgets her first Chanel.”
Holly’s mom, who was a successful real-estate agent and a board member of many charities, had the most gorgeous clothes Emma had ever seen in one closet. A collection of black cocktail dresses in every imaginable fabric and style, elegant full-length gowns—a shimmery blue satin one that swept up and over one shoulder, a red chiffon one with cascading ruffles down the front and a short train in the back. For work, beautifully tailored suits lined in gemstone silk.
Best of all—and their favorite to try on—a classic Chanel skirt suit. It was made of pink-and-white-checked boucle wool with white fringed threads around all the edges and those fabulous signature double-C buttons.
The girls would lose themselves for hours in that closet. Then they’d strut over to Mrs. Richardson’s vanity, where they’d top off their outfits with colorful jewels. Necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings. I bet some of those pieces were real, Emma now realized.
“That was so nice of your mom to let us play in her jewelry box,” Emma reminded Holly, as she stepped into the pink sequined skirt.
They examined Holly’s reflection in the three-way mirror. Both skirts looked totally great, but Emma knew she could only choose one.
“Which skirt do you like best?” Emma asked.
“This pink one,” Holly said, tilting her head to the side. “It’s so much cuter, and gold just isn’t my thing—no offense.”
Emma smiled at Holly in the mirror. “Then we’ll go with pink.”
Emma scanned the rest of her items to decide which pieces would work best with the pink skirt. First, she handed Holly the cream-colored, tissue-thin, long-sleeved shirt, and then she had her layer on a navy graphic T-shirt with a grinning character that looked like a cross between a rabbit, a mouse, and a small monkey. “The pink is going to look amazing with the navy.”
“What’s been going on with Jackson lately? Anything new?” Holly asked as she wriggled the tops over her head, one and then the other.
“Not really…well, sort of, I guess.” Emma quickly told her about the soccer-ball incident, as she adjusted the layered shirts on Holly’s body, scrunching up the sleeves of the long-sleeved tee.
“So did you guys talk?” Holly asked, her eyes glinting with anticipation.
“No…” Emma could see Holly frown slightly in the mirror, probably disappointed that there wasn’t more to the story. “But, um, I have these sketches. I mean, after I saw the team in those tacky polyester uniforms, I kind of reimagined them, made them sleeker.”
Holly whirled around. “Do you have them with you? Let me see!”
Emma pulled her sketchbook out of her bag and flipped to the page.
Holly gasped and pointed to the face of the male figure wearing Emma’s design. “Is that Jackson? ”
Oh, no! Before Emma could grab the book away, Holly turned to the next page. It was covered with a half-dozen close-up sketches of Jackson’s face. Emma suddenly felt like someone had just laid a steaming hot washcloth over her own face.
“These are really good, Em,” Holly said sincerely. “These sketches look exactly like him. You’re such a good artist. I’m so jealous. I can barely read my own handwriting, much less draw beautiful things.”
“You think so?” Emma asked. “Well, actually, there’s something else going on that’s really cool—” Emma began. But just at that moment, there was a loud knock on the dressing-room door. Emma grabbed back her sketchbook and shoved it deep in her bag.
“Come on, you guys!” Kayla called. “Fashion show is starting.”
“Shoot! We’re not done dressing you! Here, put this on,” Emma instructed, handing Holly the gray mohair sweater. Then Emma grabbed three of the skinny belts—two she wrapped around Holly’s waist, and the other she wound around her wrist multiple times as a makeshift cuff bracelet.