Page 17 of The Boss I Can't Stand
“I’ve got a map and an ID badge. I think that makes me very good. You go avert crises and all that.”
She laughed. “You are my favorite person this morning. See you in a bit.”
Brenna ran off, her boots ticking along the floor as she disappeared outside, and I gave the map a brief once-over before setting off down the hall. The building was massive, housing multiple departments including props, set design, and hair and makeup. There was also a dedicated area for craft services where employees could take breaks and eat.
When I reached the costume shop, my jaw dropped. I’d worked on some pretty low-budget films in my career, which meant the costuming spaces were treated as an afterthought, stuffed into some cramped room with shitty light, but this space…Well, I’d never admit it, but Finn could have sold me on the production just by showing me this place.
The interior of the workshop was large and open, with high ceilings and tons of natural light cascading down from the skylights. The walls were lined with industrial shelving and already stocked with an endless array of bolts of fabric and accessories.
There were multiple stations with sewing machines and ironing boards and cutting tables. Off to the side were smaller rooms separated by curtains with fitting platforms and mirrors.
There was also a small kitchenette, an office for the head costume designer—me!—and a dedicated area for repairs with an industrial washer and dryer. I did a slow three-sixty spin, taking it all in. “Holy?—”
“Nice, right?”
“Hey!” I said as Paisley exited the office and ran over to me, catching me in a hug. She was a tall, lanky woman who favored Hawaiian shirts and space buns.
She was also one of the best assistant costume designers I’d worked with. I’d specifically requested her and had been thrilled to learn she was available. “I think we’re gonna have some fun here.”
“Agreed.” She pulled back as the rest of the team emerged. “Oh, this is Carter.”
I reached out and shook his hand. I’d never worked with him, but we’d rubbed elbows at a bunch of industry events over the years and had always gotten along well, so I’d put his name down on my list along with Paisley’s.
“Love the shirt,” I said. He wore a plain black tee with a pair of scissors on it and the words CAUTION: I’M ABOUT TO CUT LOOSE.
“Birthday gift from my girlfriend,” he said. “I was sucker enough to say I loved it. Now my closet is full of shirts with costume-related puns.”
“I do enjoy a good pun.” We were going to get along great.
“And this is Trin,” Paisley said, introducing the last assistant costume designer.
“Hey,” I said, shaking the woman’s hand. Her hair was wrapped in a silk scarf, and she had bold gold eyeshadow dusted along both eyelids. I’d never met her before, but she’d likely been chosen by the studio. “I’m Sierra. Nice to meet you.”
“Girl, I love that top,” she said. “Look at all the pockets!”
I grinned.
“Sierra is a pocket connoisseur,” Paisley said, laughing. “It’s basically her entire wardrobe.”
I could already tell this was going to be a great crew. “How are things looking?” I asked. “Have we scoped the place out?”
“Lots of fun gadgets I’m eager to test out,” Carter said.
“But we’ve got the world’s worst mannequin,” Trin added, throwing her hand up like it had personally offended her. “We’re gonna need you to ask for another from the bossman.”
I frowned, looking around for what she was talking about.
“It’s back in your office,” Paisley explained.
I headed back there and paused in the doorway. Standing there next to a pallet of my precious RevX energy drink was Merle—the precariously-held-together mannequin from In Stitches. He had an energy drink taped to one hand and a bag of almonds in the other.
“I touched him, and his head popped off,” Trin said.
Paisley cackled.
Apparently, this was Finn’s idea of a joke. Or maybe it was some thinly veiled threat? Like if I didn’t get the costumes done on time, it would be my head rolling? Whatever.
“I’ll deal with it.” I dropped my bag on my new desk and pulled my initial sketches out, handing them to Paisley. “Want to get these up on the board for me?”
