“Well, who’s going to help me on the door?” Jazzy Jay complained.
“I’ll go with you,” I said, as I took him by the hand and went to take the post up front. “I’m looking out for my parents anyway.”
Fifteen minutes later, when my mom got there, she pulled me to the side. “I’m so proud of you, Pumpkin.”
“Really, Mom?” I asked, truly shocked. “You want me to be an attorney, and you haven’t even seen my stuff on the runway.”
“I’m proud of you because despite what I want, you’ve proven me wrong. Your sisters showed me all of these sketches of your work. I apologize for being too busy to look at them before and for wanting to make you into what I wanted you to be. You’ve stepped out here. Now, we’ve got to get you a logo, some business cards …”
I interrupted her and teased, “A credit card so I can buy some fabric …”
She smiled and said, “No. For now, I’ll keep you supplied. Or when you make a profit, save some to buy what you need.”
Jazzy Jay nodded like that was a smart plan. My mom looked curious as to who the extravagant guy standing next to me was. “Mom, this is my friend Jazzy Jay. Jazzy, my mom.”
He hugged her, gave her a thumbs-up on her outfit, and then said, “And, Mrs. Sharp, your baby has already made some profits. She sold out of her scarts.”
My mom beamed. She gave me a big hug. It felt great making her proud.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw Spencer stroll up to the door. Jazzy was all over him like he was his date or something. Spencer was kind enough to play along, but he couldn’t take his eyes off me, so Jazzy said, “Alright, so you ain’t come to see me. There she is.”
“How did you know about this?” I asked.
Spencer pointed at Jazzy. “I couldn’t miss it. Besides, today’s the day I hang out with my mom, and Mr. Brown had tickets to the fashion show. Anywhere he goes, it’s trouble, but I’ll make sure he behaves.”
“Go on in the door,” Mr. Brown said all loud, coming up behind Spencer.
I thought Mr. Brown was a horrible stepfather. Why Spencer was hanging with him at all was beyond me. But if he wanted time with his mom, I guess he had to figure a way to deal with it.
Mr. Brown touched my arm when he came past. “So I hear your dad is speaking on the program at the fashion show, trying to get a leg up on me. Well, I’m in the house. You go find him and tell him.”
I jerked away and was about to do just that because you never know what Mr. Brown would have up his sleeve, but then my dad was making his way to the podium to start the fashion show.
“I’d like to thank so many of you for taking the time to come today to support this budding young fashion designer who’s taking the world by storm. Her collection is called Walking in Grace, and I just want to say as a man who cares about the women in this great city, as a husband and a father and a mayoral candidate that we’ve got to step up more as men and open our eyes to what’s plaguing our city. Domestic violence is real. You can watch the news, and there’s one story after the other of senseless violence. Whether I win or not, Ms. Sydnee Sheldon and I have talked, and we’re going to build a home that’s a safe haven for abused women and children. This won’t be the only home like this in Charlotte, but it’s a start, an example to follow. ”
People all over the room began to stand up and clap. We were all here for a fashion show, but my dad brought us to a place of caring. I was so proud of him.
The fashion show was a huge success. All four major television station affiliates had reporters there. They were saying excellent things.
Sydnee was being interviewed, and I was shocked when she said, “There’s the newest star. Shelby, come on up! They want to ask about the scarts.”
One reporter asked, “You’re just in high school. How did you decide to design?”
“Yeah, how did you think you could do it so young?” another reporter uttered.
“Well, as you guys know, I have great parents,” I began, as the crowd laughed, knowing that I was the mayoral candidate’s daughter. “But I just want to say to any young person out there with a dream, no matter what it is, no matter who believes in you, you believe in yourself. You have got to work hard, surround yourself with people who could help you learn, develop, and grow. Know that big dreams aren’t going to be accomplished easily but understand that being young is no excuse that it can’t be done. Even if you have little, make something of it. Hopefully, you’re just seeing the beginning of what I’ll become as a fashion designer, but today isn’t about me … let’s give it up for Sydnee Sheldon, an amazing mentor, designer, and woman!”
I said that last part because I looked over and saw Brian pushing in and trying to get her attention. If she was working with my dad for something for battered women, she had to have come to a place where she wasn’t going to put up with his crap anymore. I certainly didn’t want him to embarrass her. I gripped Sydnee’s hand really tight so that she felt my support and knew she didn’t need any guy who was bringing her down in any part of her life. She smiled my way. Sydnee answered a few more questions, and then she went into the back. I followed. Brian did too.
“I am just so proud of you, baby,” Brian said with his arms outstretched.
“I told you not to come. It’s over,” she said to him boldly.
“You told him it was over?” I asked unable to hold back my excitement.
Brian started pleading, “I’m sorry for hitting you. I told you, I’m not going to do it anymore.”
“Please leave. I already moved out. I’ve gone to the police. There’s a restraining order on you. We’re through,” Sydnee uttered, as she peered over her shoulders at the many people watching, practically daring him to trip.
Brian saw the security watching him. Models and others backstage were frowning at him too. He stormed away without incident.
I hugged her. “I thought you were going to stick with him.”
Before I could exit backstage, my parents were standing there giving me lots of love. It was a day like none other. Just stepping out, trying my dreams, believing I could, and making it happen felt great. Not just because people were receiving what I put out there in a positive way but because I felt good about what I put out there. I was a new entrepreneur. Everyone had to start some place, and at least I wasn’t sitting on my dreams.
“I want an autograph,” Mr. Brown came backstage and shouted. “Oh, Sharp, you back here actin’ like you the designer. You got a little standing O, but you ain’t doing nothing. Talking about a home for battered women. Women better learn to stand up and take care of themselves. Shoot, you just trying to get votes. I should’ve known you were going to be looking for anything to make your ratings go up.”
“That was all genuine, bruh,” my dad said to Mr. Brown in an irritated tone.
Almost angry, Mr. Brown huffed, “Yeah, right. Whatever. Battered women? Like anyone cares about them.”
“If they need to stand up for themselves, then maybe I need to stop trying to act like our world is perfect and stand up to you,” his wife said.
He gave her a look.
However, she continued, “I chose you over my son. How stupid am I? Battered women are scared to lose so much. That’s why they never say anything. I commend Mr. Sharp for bringing this to the forefront, for empowering us women to stand up and not take it anymore.”
“Are you saying you’ve been abused?” a reporter pierced through the curtain and asked.
Another reporter followed, “Have you been abused, Mrs. Brown?”
The curtain flung open. The questions started rushing in from tons of people. Mr. Brown was embarrassed, and he left. Spencer came through the reporters and hugged his mom.
I pulled my dad over to the side. “That’s what I was trying to tell you a few weeks back at that first debate when you saw Spencer fighting his stepdad. It’s because he had just learned this guy was beating his mom. Spencer’s not a bad guy.”
“Sir,” Spence
r came behind me and interrupted, “I hope you will give me a chance. I think the world of your daughter and just wanted to ask your permission to take her out on a date.”
My dad slowly nodded and shook Spencer’s hand. “I’m sorry I misjudged you, son. Seeing you fighting made me fear the worst. I guess even the best of us should know better than to believe in stereotypes. We fall prey to that every now and again. My daughter said you encouraged her to start her business. It looks like you’ve got your mom’s back too. I’ve got high standards, but I don’t have any problem if you guys want to go out soon. Right now, I want to take my family out to dinner. Shelby, can you say your good-byes and come on, dear?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Go with your family. We’ll talk later,” Spencer said.
It was awkward as I wanted to hug him. I wanted to thank him, but just seeing him smile at me was enough. So I left with my parents.
When we got to the door, I heard Jazzy yell out from across the room, “You’re leaving something!”
He was standing at the curtain with my phone. I turned back around to go get the phone I just couldn’t keep up with. When I came back to the curtain, instead of Jazzy holding it, Spencer had it. Spencer pulled me back behind the curtain. “I snatched it on purpose this time because I wanted you to have to come back to me so I could ask you this question.”
“What?” I said nervous and giddy all at the same time.
“Will you be my girl?”
I leapt into his arms and gave him the biggest kiss that made my insides melt like a lit candle. Who would have known that the guy who irritated me a few weeks back would now be the one who made my heart go pitter-patter? Spencer was mine.
In so many ways, my world was right. I believed in my dad as a candidate. I believed in myself as a designer, and I believed in Spencer as a guy whom I could trust with my heart. It wasn’t time to run down the altar or drop my panties or anything, but truth be told, we’d gone from nothing to something.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
HERE IS A BIG THANK YOU to the people who help me make something of my writing and help me stay unstoppable:
To my parents, Dr. Franklin and Shirley Perry, thank you for helping me make my childhood special.
To my publisher, especially Adam Lerner, thank you for allowing me to make a fun series I believe will touch many.
To my extended family, thank you for your prayers, which makes me strong.
To my assistants Shaneen Clay, Alyxandra Pinkston, and Candace Johnson, thank you ladies for being such dedicated assistants who make my work top notch and relevant.
To my dear friends, thank you for standing by me, because your support makes me happy and better.
To my teens, Dustyn, Sydni, and Sheldyn, thank you for giving me a reason to work hard, as that makes me want to make you proud.
To my husband, Derrick, thank you for loving me so and taking such great care of us, as that makes me want to give back to you.
To my readers, thank you for giving my book a chance, as thinking of you flipping the pages makes me dig deep inside to write a moving story that will hopefully make your life better from reading it.
And to my Savior, thank you for opening doors that clearly show me You have me doing just what You want for my life. I am grateful, and I plan to make each book in this series uplifting.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
STEPHANIE PERRY MOORE is the author of more than sixty young adult titles, including the Grovehill Giants series, the Lockwood Lions series, the Payton Skky series, the Laurel Shadrach series, the Perry Skky Jr. series, the Yasmin Peace series, the Faith Thomas Novelzine series, the Carmen Browne series, the Morgan Love series, the Alec London series, and the Beta Gamma Pi series. Mrs. Moore is a motivational speaker who enjoys encouraging young people to achieve every attainable dream. She lives in the greater Atlanta area with her husband, Derrick, and their three children. Visit her website at www.stephanieperrymoore.com.
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