Page 50 of Make The Cut

I frown. “Colette?”

“Yes, her. I decided that she should leave last round becausereally, her designs were subpar, but she’s left one of her gowns here and is demanding to have it back.” She scoffs, and I feel a twinge of sympathy for Colette. Sasha and I tried to cheer her up after she was cut from the show, but she’s been locked in her apartment sewing day and night. “I can hardly let her stroll onto the set of the show again, so can you get the gown and deliver it to her?”

Before I can even agree or say no, she hangs up. Rude, but I’ve grown to expect it from Rose McCartney. That, and she’s paying me an astronomical sum to serve as her de facto assistant, so how can I say no?

Besides, it’ll be nice to see Colette again. I’ve been so busy running errands, spending time with Naoya, or picking out clothes for him to wear that I’ve hardly had any time to talk to her. I said goodbye and bought her a gift when she left, but I liked having an ally—and a friend—on set. Someone who was in the same industry as me and didn’t spend the whole time patronizing me, ordering me around, or treating me like the scum on the soles of their Louboutins, at least.

Still, as I drive to work, all I can think about is the headlines I saw.Naoya and Rose are an item?

Maybe if I saw his tattoos, it would confirm it. When I finally make it to work, I remain in the truck for a few minutes to look at his latest Instagram post, one of him shirtless under a blazer andmyscarf, a glimpse of his newest tattoo peeking out from under the fabric. Some kind of design is emblazoned on his left pectoral, which I try not to look too closely at, but I can’t tell what it is. Curiosity gets the better of me—and I can’t exactly demand that he strip naked the next time I see him—so I search up his newest tattoo.

Naoya Sugawa’s Newest Ink—all the details here!Tiger Beat declares. I click on the link, entering a random number when it asks me for the year I was born, and scroll down through several paragraphs of gushing prose to see a picture and description.

Naoya Sugawa’s newest tattoo is a flower! Could this be a hint at his feelings for hisMake The Cutcostar, Rose McCartney?

I scroll down even further to the comments section because I haven’t wasted enough time on a relationship that has nothing to do with me, and read a few juicy offerings.

Naoyas a homewrecker!

Their just doing this for attention!

Naoya + Rose 4EVA!

Wow. The maturity, spelling, and grammar are incredible. I’m just impressed they spelled Naoya’s name right. Then again, what could I expect from reading a magazine catering to tween girls? I shake my head, close the tab, throw my phone in my purse, grab my iced coffee, and head into the film set.

I try not to wonder if there’struthto the suggestion that Naoya might have gotten a new tattoo to match his newest love interest (no one has ever seen Naoya date the same woman twice, so ithasto be a misunderstanding, right?). Marching into the office with my iced coffee, I rifle through the dressing rooms that belonged to old contestants. Finding the right door on my fourth try, I pull out a garment bag. Unzipping it, I see it’s the same eggplant dress that I had complimented Colie on when I first met her.

I zip up the garment bag again and prepare to take it to my car. Just as I walk toward the exit, I run directly into Naoya.

“Wow, you look like a mess, Lucky. Rough night?”Please don’t tell me you hooked up with Rose and that she’s crying because you dumped her again and now her fiancé left her too.

“Something like that, Poppy.” His expression is severe, tired. Withdrawn. What happened to make him feel like that? How could he have changed so much in one night? He never calls me Poppy. It’s always Red, or some other nickname. Sometimes even Cowgirl, if I’m wearing boots. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go work.”

“Wait, what’s wrong?” He’s not some snarky coworker that I have passive-aggressive fights with. He’s my friend, and I don’t let friends turn hot and cold on me.

“I…” He rubs at the dark circles under his eyes. “I don’t have the energy to talk about this right now. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay. I’m here for you.”

He squeezes my hand before dropping it and walking off.

* * *

“Thanks so much for bringing me my dress, Poppy!” Colette greets me, opening the door to reveal two yappy French bulldogs who jump up on my shins, like they want to bite my ankles or kneecap me. “I really didn’t want to have to see Rose again.”

“No problem.” I pass her the garment bag and she gives me a hug, the bag hitting my back. “It’s so good to see you. How have you been since you were, you know, cut from the show? Sasha and I tried to get in touch with you, but your doorman said you weren’t taking visitors.”

“Oh, well…” She sighs, hanging the garment bag on a nearby coat rack. “It’s been decent. I’ve been sketching lots of designs, but I just don’t know how I can get them to come to life…”

“Did the show at least bring you some publicity?” I say hopefully.

She brightens at the mention of that. “Yeah! I have, like, a million Instagram followers now.”

I peek at her account and see that she does, in fact, have a million followers. 1.1M is the number next to her name, @Colettesclothes, and her feed shows beautiful videos of her designing, embroidering, sketching, and wearing various outfits.

“What’s next for you? Are you thinking of working for a big fashion house, or…”

“Actually, I did have one idea. But I think I’d need a lot of help to get it done.” She takes a deep breath. “I want to start my own fashion line, and I’d like you to help me with the marketing and publicity.”

---