Flirting with Disaster (23 page)

“Please take me directly to [email protected], Jensen,” I said, playing along with Dad as chauffeur.

He pulled his hat down over his eyes. “Right away, ma’am,” he said.

As he drove, I prayed. And it didn’t take long to get to the shop. We pulled up outside in less than five minutes.

I pushed open the door and saw that Becky was helping a customer check out. She looked up at me and smiled, her face not showing any anger or resentment over the computer issue. When her customer left, she greeted me warmly. “Hey, Savvy!”

I nearly collapsed in tears to hear her welcome. “Becky, do you have a few minutes?” I asked, pulling myself together.

“Sure,” she said.

I set her stack of catalogs on the counter, with the custom jeans one on top. “I have an idea,” I started, “though I don’t know what you’ll think.” I reminded myself to speak slowly, and then I ran over everything I’d talked about with Penny and with Ashley. “Ashley said she’d check to see if the launch could be at The Beeches. It would give us the best chance. Do you know the Gorm Strausses?”

Becky smiled. “We all know the Gorm Strausses. So I’d have to pay the licensing fee of . . . ?”

“Three hundred pounds,” I said. “I know. It’s a lot. And there’s not much time to get everything together because you’d have to contact them and see if the license is available, and then if they could bring samples up for the launch. But you did say you wanted teens to come into the shop more. Right? This is the way to do it.”

Becky sat there for a minute, considering. Then she said, “Let’s pray.”

I closed my eyes, and she prayed, asking the Lord if this was the direction He was leading and, if so, to let us know. I opened my eyes, and she said, “There are still some things I need to check out . . . but I think it’s a go.”

“Hooray!” I shouted, and at that moment I got a text from Ashley.

Mum says fine. We’ll take care of details on this end. Can do photo shoot on Tuesday if you can get the jeans to me by then.

I handed my phone over to Becky so she could read it.

She nodded firmly. “I’ll work on getting the jeans here.”

“I’ll work on the article,” I said, passionately hoping that a lot of people would read it and show up—for Becky, of course, but also for my future with the Wexburg Academy
Times
.

“What should we call it?” Becky asked. “Perfect Fit?”

“That’s a bit old for teenagers. How about . . .” I racked my brain. And then it came to me. The perfect name for a line of custom-fit jeans.

“How about InJeanious?”

Chapter 51

At church on Sunday I shared the news with Supriya and the worship team. They all promised to pray about my article and for the success of the event. After Sunday school, Tommy came up to me, and I told him the details I hadn’t been able to via text.

“So,” he said, “are guys invited to this?”

“Absolutely. They wear jeans, don’t they?”

He nodded. “And would one need a date for this event?”

I grinned. It wouldn’t be one-on-one, after all. “I don’t know if one would, but some might.”

“Do you need a date?” he teased.

“Yes . . . if the right person asks.”

Monday at school, Tommy showed up carrying a sticky paper with the words
Right Person
on it. He stuck it on his shirt and said, “Would you like to go to the launch with me on Saturday?”

I took the sticky paper off his shirt. “Absolutely!”

I was psyched, of course. But he still hadn’t officially asked me out.

Chapter 52

Tuesday afternoon I turned in my copy to Hazelle. “Let’s read it together in my office,” she said. Her voice was professional but not unfriendly, and I had the feeling that we’d both been through a lot. Maybe we could someday find our way back to friendship.

She rolled her eyes when she read my lead-in.

“‘Due to unforeseen circumstances, this paper is unable to have a horoscope column this week. In its place, we’d like to present a
hero
scope—someone who is working hard to make Wexburg a better place for all of us.’

“Oh, Savvy,” she said, but she didn’t use her red pencil to mark it out. She did make a few little tweaks throughout, making sure it was clear that the entire school was invited to the launch on Saturday, whether or not they planned to buy jeans.

“Will they be able to order jeans at the launch? Will there be a place to be measured?”

I nodded. “Ashley’s getting that all set up, and Becky’s going to be there, along with some of her designer friends, to measure a few people.”

“Let’s word it this way, then,” Hazelle said, drawing a few lines to rearrange a paragraph.

She didn’t touch the part promising fun under twinkling lights and butler service. “I guess I should be there,” she said, trying, I knew, to look reluctant. “As the editor, and all.”

“Of course,” I said. “I’ll have Ashley’s snaps to you first thing in the morning. Here’s the one of the little girl I mentioned in the article.” I pushed Emma’s photo toward her.

Thursday morning I got in even earlier than usual. I wasn’t going to wait to deliver the paper to read this article. And I wanted to set aside fifteen of the best copies for myself and my family, just in case I never wrote another article with a byline.

Tears sprang when I saw the copy. Hazelle had put it on the front page.