"You got the DeMitrio job!" Jeff raised his coffee cup high in the air. "A toast to my darling Locki! You're on your way to fame and fortune, my dear!"
I finger the straw floating lazily in my diet Pepsi, and scan the manilla folder that Francine DeMitrio had given me only an hour ago. Inside are her top secret design plans, and even though I had sworn not to show them to anyone else, I can't wait to share them with Rose. "Flirty, sexy sweat suits," the designer had showed me proudly. "Enough with the baggy tops and grey pants! We want you to run in style!"
"This is my biggest job ever," I remark, folding the envelope into my purse. "I heard a lot of girls sent their portfolios in."
Jeff nods. "They did. But I always knew you were cut from special cloth, my dear...pardon the pun. Just think! You'll be on the cover of--"
"Of Venture, I know," I finish for him, referring to one of the top fashion magazines in the country. "My contract also includes being featured in six runway shows..."
"Beth Lumaro sent a portfolio in, and so did Diana Willow Reed." I raise my eyebrow as he mentions this. "They're tough competition, and being chosen over them is nothing to scoff at. And..."
"And what?" I demand.
Now he raises and eyebrow. "Scarlett-Rose applied as well."
I clap a hand to my forehead. "Oh God. She'll be pis--upset. Won't she." The answer was so clear that my question came out as a statement. "She's hated me ever since I stole that Prendillo job out from under her nose."
Jeff shrugs. "That's show-buisness, babe."