Page 36 of Puck Yes

“If it isn’t the Scrappy Little Fashionista?”

The team owner knows my handle? I stop and turn around to say hello to the towering and powerful Jessie Rose. “Hi, Ms. Rose.”

“Good to see you, Ivy,” she says, then, wincing, she gestures to her red-soled shoes. “Personally, my Louboutins make me feel strong, but boy, do these suckers hurt. But what’s a gal to do when she needs some power pumps?”

“Actually, I have some ideas,” I say as a Star Trek slot machine next to us disappoints a man in a Hawaiian shirt.

Her deep brown eyes sparkle with interest. “Do tell.”

“Lily Greer,” I whisper, passing on the name like it’s a secret. “She makes seriously comfy alternatives that look just as good.”

Jessie looks like I just gave her the Holy Grail. “Where do I find these ruby slippers?”

“Online. I’ll send you some links.”

“Today, please,” she says, a clear order. Then, she gives me a quick appraisal, eyes landing on my leopard print top. “Hmm. Leopards? Do I want leopards as a possible team name?”

“Leopards are pretty amazing hunters. Very stealthy,” I say. “Plus, it’d be a cute mascot costume.”

“That is true,” she says, humming thoughtfully as if she’ll consider it. But before she goes, she lifts a finger, like she’s just remembered something. “By the way, your brother and his partners are coming to my golf event in a few weeks. They’ll be seated at my table. I’ve just loved watching their love story unfold.”

That warms my heart. “Thanks for letting me know and being so supportive.”

“Of course,” Jessie says, like there’s no other way to be.

When I’m up in my room a few minutes later, I send the team owner—the freaking team owner!—shoe suggestions.

With that done, I sit on the bed, grab my laptop, and use the next hour I have free to write for my newsletter about the best alternatives for established brands.

That calms me. I know fashion. I give good fashion tips. I’ll keep doing this and building my name, and I’ll move on from the Simone and Xander fiasco. I’ll use their wedding to grow my name, that’s all.

I quickly check my email and speak of the devil. There’s one from Xander, and one from Simone. Their wedding is key to my career goals. With a pit in my stomach, I open his first.

Simone told me you’re covering our wedding. I’m seriously proud of you! What an opportunity! You’ll do great!

I stare at it like it’s a message from a Martian. Who says those things? With so many exclamation points too. He’s proud of me for landing this prestige assignment by quitting?

I keep reading.

Maybe we can meet up soon, and I can tell you about some of my new business ventures?

Ohhhh. Of course. His email makes sense now. He wants me to mention his new ventures in their wedding coverage.

And the ick gets ickier. While I’m crawling with it, I click on a reply from Simone to my dress code query.Dress code is festive,she writes.Can’t wait to share more details when we meet soon!

I don’t actually want to read more about my ex-boss and my ex-boyfriend right now. I’ll come back to these later. I’m about to close out and get ready to head to the Sabers arena when I spot a new email.

Oh! It’s from one of the editors I wrote to.

Theeditor.

It’s from Birdie Michaels. She runsYour Runway, a popular site about adapting fashion trends and making them work for you. Holding my breath, I open it.

Dear Ivy,

Your pieces are sharp. Can you get me a story about the top five new looks in sustainable fashion by Wednesday?

Birdie

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