More Than Fashion (29 page)

“No, I never gave it up. And there’s something I need to talk to you about.” I turned to Gavin, drawing strength from his solid presence at my side. But I had to do this alone. “Could you give us a minute?”

He nodded. “Good luck. I’ll be right over there if you need me.” He wrapped an arm around his mother’s shoulder and led her over to the buffet table with a smile.

Once he was gone, I sucked in a deep breath. “Mom. Dad. I don’t want to be a doctor.”

“You don’t?” my dad asked. My mom just narrowed her eyes, her lips pressed in a thin line.

“No. Not at all. Not even a tiny bit.”

“But what about all your schooling?” my mom asked.

“I only chose pre-med because Helen did it and because you told me to…and because I didn’t know what else to do. You made me think I only had two options: lawyer or doctor. But I don’t want to be either of those. I want to be a fashion designer. It’s what I’ve
always
wanted.”

My dad frowned. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because you never approved! You wanted me to be like Helen. To follow in her footsteps. But I’m not like her. I’m not the perfect daughter, and I’ll never be the perfect doctor. This is what I have to do.”

“We never wanted you to become your sister,” my mom said. “We wanted you to find your own path and to feel the same enthusiasm for it that Helen does. We never realized that fashion design was anything more than a hobby for you until now.”

“Because you told me over and over how it wasn’t a real career! How I needed a stable job with a steady income to rely on, not some artsy career where I would starve.”

My mom looked a little uncomfortable. “While it’s true that we would…prefer it…if you had a more traditional career, we want you to be happy, too.”

“We don’t want you to go into a career you don’t feel passionate about,” my dad said.

My shoulders relaxed a little, but there was still more I had to tell them. “Good. Because I’m going to apply for a transfer to Parsons, here in New York. Even though I did well on the show, I still have a lot to learn. It will probably take me an extra year or two to graduate, and I’ll likely have to take out all kinds of student loans that I’ll have to pay back for the rest of my life, but it will be worth it. Even if I become a starving artist, at least I’ll be doing what I love.”

“Are you sure about this?” my mom asked, placing her hand on my arm. “You only have one year left at UCLA. You could always graduate and then decide. At least then you would have a degree you could use for other things.”

I hesitated. For a second, I doubted my decision and wondered if I was making the wrong choice. What was a year, anyway? I had already put three into my degree, after all. I might as well finish it up. And my mom was right—that degree could come in handy if I failed as a fashion designer.

But then I glanced at Gavin, speaking with his mother and Dawn and Trina. He gave me an encouraging smile, and I knew this was the right path. I didn’t want to waste even a single second longer pursuing a career I hated. From now on, I wanted to follow my dream, even if it was harder, riskier, scarier.

“I’m sure,” I said.

My parents exchanged a glance. Something passed between them, the kind of silent communication only couples who have been married for thirty years can share. My mom turned back to me. “If that’s your decision, then we’ll support you in it.”

“Really?” I asked, my voice breaking a little. Tears welled up in my eyes.

“Of course. You are our daughter. We love you and only want you to be happy.”

“And obviously you are very talented,” my dad added. “Or you wouldn’t have gotten this far in the show.”

I laughed and hugged each of them. “Thank you.”

“I wish you had told us earlier you wanted to be a designer,” my mom said, after she’d hugged me back. “If we’d known, we wouldn’t have pushed you so hard to become a doctor.”

“I guess I didn’t believe I could do it. But now I do. Now I
know
I can do it.”

***

I fixed Gavin’s tie, staring up into his stormy gray eyes. “Whatever happens, you are an amazing designer and are going to go on to great things. I believe in you and I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeated back to me. But he seemed in a daze, like he wasn’t really hearing himself speak.

I gave him a long, lingering kiss, trying to infuse him with strength and love through the press of my lips, through my hands gripping his shoulders. He clung to me tightly before finally breaking away and heading out the door and onto the runway.

This was it. In a few minutes, the judges would decide who was going to be the winner of
Behind The Seams
. And there was nothing I could do but wait in the backstage lounge with Trina and Nika for the verdict.

I slumped on the couch next to Trina, and we leaned against each other, not saying a word. We both loved someone out there, but only one of them could win. Nika picked at her nails across from us, looking bored. I decided then and there that if Dawn won, I would still be happy. She was a great designer and a good friend—and anything would be better than Jeff winning.

Kelsey stuck her head in the door. “Psst,” she said. “Want to watch the judging?”

Trina and I both jumped to our feet. “Yes!” I said. “Where?”

“We can watch the live feed from the cameras in the other room.”

She gestured for us to follow her, but Nika remained behind. I guessed she didn’t care that much if Jeff won or not.

The three of us rushed into the next room, which was dark except for a number of screens, each showing a different camera angle, with one guy operating them all. Kelsey held a finger over her lips as we went inside, then quietly shut the door behind her. The guy gave us a brief, curious look, but then went back to monitoring the camera feeds.

On stage, the three designers stood on the runway with their models from the show. The four judges sat in front of them in their usual chairs, and it didn’t look any different from a normal challenge except for the invisible, unspoken heaviness in the room. I’d watched this moment plenty of times on TV before, but it had never felt as real as it did now. This decision would decide the fate of one of the three designers.

Trina and I laced our arms together and watched it all go down. The judges were in the middle of critiquing Dawn’s collection. They praised her feminine clothes and her use of color, but questioned whether it was unique enough. Ricardo liked it the most, arguing that women all over the world, of all ages and sizes, would find her clothes flattering. Kiara argued that it didn’t feel fresh enough, while Lola thought the collection had too many similar pieces overall.

Jeff’s collection was next. They liked his bold colors and his blend of modern and eighties style, but said that none of his looks really felt like the elements. Ricardo thought his clothes were ready to sell in a store, but Beverly questioned whether any woman would actually want to wear them. Lola loved it, calling it edgy and dramatic, but Kiara argued that some of the looks felt too outdated and mature.

Gavin’s collection was critiqued last. I leaned closer to the screens, wishing I could be out there with him, holding his hand.

Lola looked up from her notes and smiled at him. “Gavin, your collection was definitely the most innovative. Many of the pieces felt new and avant-garde.”

“I agree,” Ricardo said. “You were the only one who didn’t use color to show the elements, but instead tried to reflect them in the design itself.”

“The only problem is that some of the pieces aren’t as obvious as to which element they should belong to,” Beverly said.

Ricardo rubbed his chin. “That’s true. But the detail work was truly amazing, especially since the collection was done in only a few days. I’m assuming you did the chainmail pieces yourself again?”

Gavin cleared his throat. “Yes. I originally planned for the shirt to be a full dress but didn’t have enough time. I turned it into a top, and Julie made the trousers to go with it.”

“I actually like that it’s only a top,” Kiara said. “A dress could be a bit too much. This has a nice contrast between hard and soft.”

Beverly checked her notes again, pursing her bright red lips. “I also loved your ombré dress. The cut of it was beautiful, and the way it was dyed was exquisite.”

“Julie dyed that dress,” Gavin said. “All the credit belongs to her, not me.”

“But it’s your design, yes?” Ricardo asked.

“Correct.”

Ricardo nodded. “A good designer knows how to use the talents of their assistants to their benefit.”

Gavin looked like he might argue, and I wanted to reach through the screen and shake him, to tell him to shut up. Yes, I’d done that dress, but it had been his design. It was still completely
his
collection. Maybe he felt my silent scream because he closed his mouth and nodded.

“Each of your pieces was beautifully made,” Lola said. She gestured at Carla. “The real showstopper, though, was this tornado dress. It’s stunning and so unique.”

Kiara leaned forward in her chair. “It’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“There’s no doubt it’s amazing,” Beverly said. “My only concern is that it’s not really wearable. I’m not sure how some of these looks could be translated into clothes that a woman could buy.”

“He has some ready-to-wear looks, though,” Robert argued, showing her his notes. “This raincoat here or this corset outfit could both be very commercial.”

Beverly cocked her head. “Maybe. I do think this tornado dress and some of the others would photograph well. They’d make for a really fun magazine spread.”

They continued on for another few minutes, and Gavin somehow remained stoic and calm as they took apart each look like he wasn’t even there. Meanwhile, I was clinging so hard to Trina I was surprised she didn’t tell me I was hurting her. It was tough to tell who the judges would pick. They seemed to like all three collections, but also have some reservations about each one, too. It could really go any way.

The judges went backstage to discuss the three collections, and I paced back and forth while we waited. If I was this nervous, I couldn’t even imagine how anxious Gavin must feel. But finally, they returned.

“Thank you, designers, for all of your hard work,” Lola said, after they sat down. “This season had some of the most talented designers we have ever seen on the show. It was an incredibly difficult decision because all of your collections were truly impressive, but in the end, there can only be one winner. After much discussion, we have chosen who that will be.”

On stage, Gavin and Carla grabbed each other’s hands. I imagined myself out there, completing the chain. I was trembling, holding my breath, waiting for Lola to say the next words.

“The winner of this season of
Behind The Seams
is…”

There was a long pause. The longest ever in the history of the world.

“Gavin Bennett.”

Confetti burst on stage, and I screamed in delight. The guy behind the desk gave me a look of pure horror, but I didn’t care. Trina gave me a fierce hug, and I cried happy tears all over her shoulder. I whispered that I was sorry about Dawn, but she just smiled and shook her head and said how happy she was for Gavin.

When she let me go, I grabbed Kelsey in a hug next, and she laughed as I squeezed her. I was so happy I could barely breathe. After all our hard work, it was somehow even better than if I had won because I knew how well-deserved it was—and I felt like it was my victory, too, even though I wouldn’t be getting the prize myself.

I ran out of the room, bursting onto the runway where Gavin and Carla were hugging. They broke apart, and Dawn hugged him next, smiling with tears in her eyes. Carla was crying, too, dabbing at her eyes so as to not ruin her makeup. I gave her a fierce hug and congratulated her—she would receive $10,000 and would wear Gavin’s tornado dress in an upcoming photo shoot for
Charmed
magazine.

Finally, I threw myself at Gavin. He had confetti in his hair, and he laughed as I slammed into his chest, wrapping my arms around him.

“Congratulations,” I said. “You did it!”

“
We
did it.” He held me close, kissing my forehead. His gray eyes were watery, his smile bigger than I had ever seen. “This couldn’t have happened without you.”

“We do make a good team,” I said, smiling up at him.

“Yes, we do…” He searched my face, asking me a silent question.

I gave him a sly grin. “You know, maybe we should continue being partners…both in and out of the bedroom.”

His hands tightened around my waist. “Does that mean you’ll start a company with me?”

“I will. I already told my parents I’m applying to Parsons and moving to New York. Even if you didn’t win, I would have gone with you. We’re in this together, after all. But I’m not going to lie—it’s going to be a lot easier with that prize money.”

“Yes, it will.” He kissed me in the middle of the runway, in front of the cameras and the judges and everyone else, while confetti fell like snow upon us.

And I knew, without a doubt, that I was making the right decision.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THREE MONTHS LATER

"I
t’s perfect,” Gavin said, his gaze sweeping across the large, empty room.

I squinted, trying to figure out what he saw in this dump. “Yeah?”

“The bones are all here.” He moved across the hardwood floor and swept dust off a windowsill. Outside, snow dotted the buildings, and the sun struggled to peek through the clouds. “Look at the arches and the crown molding. And the lighting is lovely. The place just needs some cleaning, a fresh coat of paint, and it will be a perfect studio.”

“You make it sound so easy, but all of that costs money and time.”

“We have both of those.”

“We do, but only a limited supply of each. We need to start making some money soon, or it will run out fast.”

He moved behind me, his arms sliding around my waist, and we stared at the place we might soon call home. “Just imagine it. We’ll each have our own workstations set up over there. Racks of clothing along the wall. Dress forms around the room. Sewing machines in the corner. Inspiration boards above our head. The sound of the city filtering through the windows. Our brand will come to life in here.”