Page 8 of Wardrobe Malfunction

“Are you still in Nashville?”

Okay. Not the answer I was expecting but whatever.

“Nope. I just landed in JFK.” I smile to myself, looking forward to having the week off that I booked in for myself. I haven’t had any time off in…forever, and even though I’m not rich, I have enough money in the bank to allow myself a week of doing nothing. “I’m actually walking through the airport as we speak, heading to grab a cab home. Why?”

“Well…I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but I landed a job on this big-budget movie, and I’m the wardrobe mistress—”

“Really? Congrats! That’s great, Ava!”

Wardrobe mistress is a promotion for Ava, who was a wardrobe assistant like me. She’s been in the business longer than I have though, so I can’t envy her promotion.

“Well…the thing is, I was wondering if you would want to come and work with me.”

“When?” I have a job lined up in wardrobe on a small Broadway play after my weeklong break, but if it’s after that, then I can do it.

“Well…tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I yell in surprise.

“Yeah, I know it’s short notice—”

“No kidding. Hang on, am I an add-on? Did someone drop out, and you need me to fill in?”

Silence.

I can practically hear her wince.

“Ava?”

“It’s not as bad as you’re making it sound. I knew you were already working up in Nashville on Rollers, so I hired Millie Reed—”

“Millie Reed?”

“I know you don’t like her—”

“She screwed Michael.”

“After you dumped him.”

“I know, but that’s not the point. She was supposed to be a friend. You know, girl code and all that.”

“You two were never friends; you just worked together.” She laughs. “I remember what you said the first day after you worked with her. You said she was useless.”

“She is useless. She’s a crap seamstress. She sewed all the buttons on a shirt the wrong way—rookie mistake.”

“Well, she was available—”

“She always is.”

“And you weren’t,” Ava continues seamlessly. “I would have asked you first; you know that. But, with the timing, I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it, so I asked Millie, and…”

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure. I just got a call this morning from Vaughn’s manager, telling me to fire her. Apparently, she was incompetent.”

“She probably tried to screw him, too,” I mutter. “Hang on, Vaughn? As in—”

“Vaughn West. Oh, yes.”