Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition Elizabeth Knox (cheapest way to read ebooks .txt) 📖

At 2 p.m. I take leave of the rest of my team and allow them to continue researching—I’ve decided how at least Lady Amelia should be dressed and am ready to start designing. I’ve printed out plenty of visual research material to go off of and use them as reference as I sit in my studio, starting over with more rough sketches.

At 4 p.m. I meet with a young woman—a friend of Stephanie’s—who’s hoping to join the team. I interview her, take a look at her portfolio, and try to get a sense of her personality and work ethic.

Just glancing through her book, I find myself remembering when I attended the Savannah School of Art and Design. How young and full of enthusiasm I was then, and how proud I was of my own portfolio. When I first arrived in Hollywood, I was starstruck, thinking the world was at my feet. But of course, nothing came easy; it took years of hard work and determination to succeed and reach the position of head designer with a team of my own.

My interviewee clears her throat, and I blink, flipping a few more pages.

The girl is bright, and her portfolio shows that she knows what she’s doing. I look up. “Do you have any questions?”

She smiles with excitement. “Do you mind if I ask, what’s your favorite part of designing?”

“I’ve found that one of the best things about this job is the variety. You could be designing flounced petticoats for a Victorian-era drama, heavily armored-leather vests for some Roman warrior, or some silver sheath for a space goddess.”

“I’ve wanted this my whole life,” she says, and I can see it in her eyes.

After a few more questions, I stand and shake her hand. “Thank you so much for coming in. I’ll get back to you and let you know my decision in the next day or two.”

After she leaves, I call Ethan to get approval. I’ve already made up my mind that this girl will be a great addition to my team, but I have to run it by the director first.

I’ve had enough of dealing with him to know he isn’t going to give me anything unless I fight for it. After twenty minutes of explaining that three assistants aren’t going to be able to costume everything he wants in the time allowed, he finally relents and lets me hire the girl.

The rest of the day flies by, and I stay late into the evening working on a special design.

“Knock, knock.”

I recognize Jenny’s voice, and holler for her to come in. She works in set design, and she and I came up in the business at the same time, ending up on several projects together. We’ve built a close friendship over the years.

She’s bitching before she even shuts the door.

“Ryan kept me working on that damn set all this time.”

“What time is it?” I yell from the back of the design studio.

“Nine o’clock. Where are you?”

“Over here.”

I’m on my knees in front of a pale blue gown I have pinned to a dress form. I look up when Jenny rounds a tall metal shelving unit piled with bolts of fabric and stops dead in her tracks.

“Wow!” she exclaims. “That’s beautiful. Is it the dress from your sketch—the one Ethan rejected?”

“It’s the dress. I’ve been hanging onto this fabric for something special, and this is it.”

She circles around, its full skirt flaring out several feet on each side.

“Oh, Sara, it’s gorgeous.” She pauses and turns to me. “But I thought he didn’t like it. Who’s wearing it?”

“Me.”

“You? Where?”

“My twentieth reunion. It’s black-tie and the theme is a fairytale ball.”

“Twentieth?” Her hands land on her hips. “No way. You can’t be that old.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I guess I am old. Been in this business sixteen years now, and still no major award to show for it.”

“Your time will come.” Her eyes scan the dress again. “You’re so talented.”

“You have to say that; you’re my BFF.”

She scoffs. “No I don’t. When is this shindig anyway?”

“Next weekend.”

“Do you need any help?” she offers, and I want to hug her.

I drop my shoulders, the stress of trying to finish in time falling away like magic at her offer. “God, yes.”

She smiles and we get to work.

5 Green

Saturday night

I turn down the long road that leads into the gates of the Fife Estate and follow the signs to the parking area.

“Good Lord, this place is something else,” my date says, staring up through the windshield at the castle-like building.

I turn off the truck and we both climb out. I grab my suit jacket from the hook behind my seat, and shrug into it, adjusting my cuffs while I glance around. Formal gardens surround the place, but the courtyard and stairs leading up to the main entrance are really something. Whoever planned this thing tonight, did it up right. Little white lights twinkle from every tree and bush leading inside.

My date is a tall strawberry-blonde girl from the strip club, named Misty. She’s wearing a strapless black dress in a stiff fabric that stands out at her calves exposing flounces of black petticoats underneath. The front of her gown is shorter than the back, exposing black stockings and heels. If Sara doesn’t show tonight, I guess I can console myself by finding out if those stockings end at the top of her thighs. It’s a sexy look, one that is also classy, which I have to give Misty credit. I’m glad she listened when I told her I didn’t want her wearing anything over the top slutty—not to this event.

Misty takes my arm, a little clutch purse in her hand.

“Don’t you look handsome in that tux, Green. Especially with that badass ink peeking out at the cuffs and neck.” She strokes the tip of her finger down the side of my neck, tracing the ink. “You’re going to have all the girls turning their heads, maybe even a few