"Miss Davis I need your help over here!"
Brooke Penelope Davis strutted over to her assistant.
"What Amy?" she asked irritated.
"This thing won't zip up." Amy replied.
Brooke examined the back of the strapless dress adorned by a tall, Russian model.
"Suck it in Ingrid," she said as the model's stomach slowly became a little thinner. "I'll get this thing zipped up if it kills you. That dress is the best piece of the show."
Amy tucked a piece of long wavy blonde hair behind her ear.
"I think there is a larger size in the back room," she offered seeing the pained expression on the young model's face.
"What'd you do, eat a bunch of calories?" Brooke asked. "This dress used to fit you perfectly."
"I don't know," Ingrid replied in a significant European accent.
Brooke sighed. Why did this have to happen ten minutes before the biggest runway show of the year?
"Well it has to fit," she said zipping up the dress. "I am going to make it fit." Pushing Ingrid's body forward and pulling the material backwards, Brooke managed to get it to zip up.
"Uh oh," Amy said pointing at the front of the dress.
"What?" Brooke said spinning the model around to reveal a ripped seam in the bust.
"Shit," she said standing up straight and beginning to pace in a circle around the two ladies.
"What do we do?" Amy asked seeing the gritted teeth of her friend and boss.
"Where's that other dress?" Brooke asked. "I need that other dress."
Amy pondered for a moment.
"It should be in the back room with all the replacements," she said. "Do you want me to get it for you?"
"No, I'll get it." She walked as fast as her feet could carry her. High heels clicking as she walked, Brooke pushed past the floods of men and women preparing for the show. Making her way into the confined area she frantically searched through countless items of clothing. "Ah ha!" she exclaimed pulling out an identical dress to the one Ingrid had been wearing and examining the tag.
"Ingrid!" she hollered as she once again made her way through the hoards of people who were getting ready for the show.
"Did you find it?" Amy inquired when she saw Brooke emerge from the crowd.
Brooke ignored the woman. She didn't have time to talk.
"Ingrid what size is that dress you have on?"
"A zero," Ingrid replied.
"Crap," Brooke replied biting her lower lip. "We are going to have to do something to make this work. Put it on."
Ingrid quickly peeled off the other torn dress and replaced it with the new one.
"Its too big Brooke," Amy stated.
"I know that," Brooke replied crudely.
"What size is it?" Ingrid questioned playing with the loose fabric that hung over her small frame.
"A four," Brooke said grabbing some safety pins on a table nearby.
"A four!" Amy half exclaimed half asked. "That will never fit!"
Brooke sighed, exasperated.
"Thanks for stating the obvious," she said. "I'm going to fix it. Turn around Ingrid."
The model obeyed as Brooke bent down and folded the fabric to tighten the fit of the dress. She began safety pinning the dress.
Amy put her fingers to her face and deliberated.
"The audience is going to see those safety pins," she said.
Brooke groaned.
"You're not helping the matter you know? I'm the designer I know what I am doing. I'm pinning the dress underneath the fabric. The pins will be discreet and nobody will see them when she's on the catwalk."
"Whatever," Amy said. "By the way, you're on in five minutes."
"Yeah. Line them all up while I finish this." Brooke finished pinning the ensemble. "Thank you God," she said placing her hands on Ingrid's shoulders and guiding the woman into her spot in line. "Lets get this show on the road."
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Brooke heard the voice come over the loud speaker as she did one last quick inspection of the ladies. "Welcome to the 3rd Annual Spring Fashions Runway Show presented to you by designer Brooke Davis. This year is going to be the best yet so let's get ready for a night to remember!"
She could hear the audience's applause. One thing that always made Brooke happy was to hear the vocals of her cheering fans. It was one way to brighten the day.
Brooke watched the models come off and go on the runway. One by one they changed into the next article of clothing. Soon enough, it was time for Brooke to get ready to walk the runway. She made her way into the private dressing room. The funny thing about Brooke was that she was always around the whole fashion show deal. She was used to girls getting dressed and undressed in front of her. However, she didn't feel comfortable getting undressed in front of people. So she had her own dressing room.
Brooke slipped into a pink sundress in which she designed with sleeves slung slightly off the shoulder and a tie in the back. After getting into matching high heeled shoes she was ready to roll.
"And now ladies and gentlemen, please give a big round of applause for the woman who made this thing happen. Give it up for designer, Brooke Davis!"
Brooke made her way down the long strip towards the audience giving little waves and flashing her million dollar smile for the crowd. Reaching the end of the walk way she stopped and held the microphone to her lips.
"Thanks so much!" she squealed.
Before turning around to walk backstage, her eyes caught his. She gave him a little wink. He was the man she had fallen for just a year before. The man who could make everything better by just smiling. The man she had given her heart and soul to. The man who had asked her to marry him just a month before. The man of her dreams. Ryan Campbell.
She gave him a quick wink and flitted back down the aisle way in front of her.
"You did so great!" Ryan proclaimed after the show was over.
Brooke was now changed into jeans and a flattering low cut top. Seeing the love of her life made her heart flutter.
Jumping into his arms, they encircled each other a tight embrace, foreheads touching. He swung her around lifting her feet off of the ground. She responded by placing a kiss on his tender lips.
"I almost had a nervous breakdown," she admitted once he put her down.
"Well you pulled it off," he smiled.
He was so gorgeous. His tousled dark brown hair and glistening dark brown eyes. Just looking at him made her heart melt.
"Thank God," she replied. "I'm tired. I have absolutely no desire to go to the after party."
"We don't have to," he offered.
She laughed.
"Yeah right, the actual designer not showing up for her after party?"
"Just say your sick," he answered.
She giggled aloud.
"Yeah," she replied. "In my dreams."
She grasped his hand and their fingers filled in the spaces where the other person's were not. Even their hands fit together like a puzzle. She felt so wonderful being near him.
"I have to go," she said disappointed.
"Yeah I guess you do," he agreed giving her a quick grin.
She gave him a loving grin.
"But don't worry baby," she giggled. "There will be plenty of time for just you and me. It will just have to wait until after the big ole' celebration."