I shrugged. “Maybe she likes bald guys?”
“No, no. Being bald is different than being bald and wearing a toupee. You’re not allowed to put both kinds of men in the same category.”
I looked up and down the hallway. “Have you seen anyone else?” I asked him.
“Are you kidding? No one ever comes down here. I don’t think these rooms have been used since we made all our clothes in-house.”
I started down the hallway, motioning for Chase to follow. “Which is exactly why Sasha would meet Julian down here.”
“Who’s Julian?”
“He’s the tailor who’s altering Paige’s dress to fit Sasha. At least, I think he is.”
“Ohhh, the plot thickens.”
I tried a door to my left. Locked. “We’ve got to find a place to hide.”
“What? Right now?”
I glanced at my watch. “She has a fitting scheduled at four. If I can just see the dress and know for sure, then . . .”
“Then what?”
I sighed and looked at Chase. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out when it happens.”
Chase crossed his arms. “Dani, this could cost you your job.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I know that. But I can’t let her steal the dress. How would I ever tell Paige?”
He nodded. “I get that. It’s just . . .” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m here for you, all right? You know I’ve got your back. But I can’t lose my job. On principle, I wish I could, but Darius’s mom isn’t doing great and we’ve been sending money to her every month, and there’s—”
“Chase.” I stopped him. “I would never ask you to jeopardize your job.”
He shook his head, his eyes full of sadness. “It’s not right what she’s doing to you.”
“It’s not right that I’ve let her get away with it for so long.” I took a deep breath. “Just be my moral support, all right? Stay hidden with me; don’t let me lose my nerve.” I tried the next door in the hallway, expecting it to be locked, and almost hit the ground when it swung open, depositing me into one of LeFranc’s old workrooms.
Chase followed me in and reached for my elbow, steadying me. “You okay?”
I nodded, giving the room a quick scan. I looked over Chase’s shoulder. “Do you see a light switch?”
Chase glanced at his phone. “I wouldn’t risk the light. She could be down here any second.” He turned on his flashlight app and swept it around the room. “What if the fitting is happening in here?”
“The dress would be here if it was,” I said. “She wouldn’t risk carrying it around the office.”
“But she wouldn’t just leave it down here in an unlocked workroom either,” Chase said.
The debate became pointless when we heard the elevator ding from down the hallway. Chase’s eyes went wide. “What now?” he whispered.
I motioned Chase out of the doorway and pulled the door to the mostly closed position, leaving a tiny crack of light seeping into the dark room. “We wait,” I whispered back.
Seconds later, what had to be Sasha’s high heels clicked down the hallway, the shuffle of someone else’s footsteps following behind her. “I do hope you managed to fix the hemline,” Sasha said. “It must be perfect in time for the photoshoot next week.”
I gripped Chase’s hand. Photoshoot?
Sasha neared the door that hid Chase and me from view, keys jangling in her hand. My heart pounded in my chest, and I squeezed Chase’s hand even tighter. There’d be no explaining if she found us hiding together in the basement.
“If she opens that door,” Chase whispered into my ear, “we’re going to start making out.”
I held back a snort, my near panicked state making his comment seem even funnier than it was. “Don’t make me laugh!” I whispered back.
When Sasha passed by, we both breathed a sigh of relief. We listened as she opened a door further down the hallway. “Julian, why is this door unlocked?” she said, her voice shrill. “Didn’t I tell you to always lock the door behind you? I can’t risk anyone seeing this dress before the reveal.”
Julian muttered something I couldn’t understand. My heart dropped into my gut as I realized what her comment implied. Had I searched a minute or two longer, I might have found the dress, unlocked, unprotected.
“You wouldn’t have made it out of LeFranc before she caught you,” Chase said, clearly reading my mind. “It wouldn’t have mattered.”
I swallowed, my throat dry and tight. “I know.”
“Now what?” Chase asked for the second time.
I took another long breath, willing my nerves to calm down, squeezing my trembling hands into fists. “Now I go and confront her.”
Chase took me by the shoulders. “Don’t let her walk all over you, Dani. You’ve got this.”
I nodded. “Wish me luck.”
It’s not like I didn’t know what to expect. I knew she’d stolen my dress. I knew she was planning on wearing it. But it still felt like a full-on punch to actually see her in it. The door to the workroom where Julian had been working swung open with a squeak. Sasha spun around, her eyes wide with surprise.
“You have some nerve,” I said, my voice icy cold.
She smirked. “Dani. How lovely to see you.”
“I want my dress back. Now.”
“Your dress?” She ran her hands down the front, a possessive glint in her eye. “I don’t think so.”
I stood there, frozen by her gall, her utter disrespect for anything but her own shallow desires. “You told me Paige would still get to wear the dress.”
She slid her hands over the lace that cascaded down the front of the dress. “But I’m wearing it so much better, don’t you think?”
“You can’t do this. I’ll . . .” Fury ate my words. I’d what?
“Tell the boss?” She grinned and walked toward me, her hands on her hips. “Go ahead and try. You want to place bets on whose side Alicio will take?” She stopped in front of me, her eyes holding mine with a ferocity that immediately made me feel sick. Because I could see, with perfect clarity, just how far Sasha would go to get ahead. And how little she actually cared about me.
“You never intended to let me design with you, did you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’re a good designer, Dani. But you’d never make it in this industry. Fashion is cutthroat. And you, with your little doe-eyed innocence and trust, would never make it. You’d be eaten alive. Really, I’m doing you a favor by telling you the truth now.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “I’ll expose you. I have . . . proof. My sketches, my designs.” I swallowed. “I’ll take it to the press.”
She grimaced, leaning forward with a menacing stare. “Go ahead and try,” she seethed. “It’ll be my word against yours and I guarantee I have a lot more friends in the press than you do.” She reached out and gripped my arm, her fingers digging into my flesh. “You don’t want to fight with me, Dani. I play dirty. You breathe one word against me to anyone, anywhere, and I’ll make sure you never work in fashion again. You’ll be ruined in New York. No internships. No working as an assistant. When I’m through with you, you’ll be lucky to get a job designing big-box store knock-offs.” She finally released her grip on my arm. “Or you can go back upstairs like a good girl and pretend like this never happened. Your choice.”