Fashion Jungle

by Kathy Ireland

  “For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.” Dane’s voice was heavy with sadness. “I’m sorry that you lost the baby, and I’m sorry that Frederick doesn’t realize the treasure he has.”

  Everlee looked up into his swirling blue eyes. “And I’m sorry Zoe doesn’t realize what she has.”

  His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, and then he pressed them together. “Yes, well. We can’t always have what we want, can we?”

  “No.” Everlee suddenly felt exhausted. “We can’t.”

  “I’ll be in touch. And, Everlee?”

  She looked up.

  “My driver’s been with Frederick for the last few hours, trying to sober him up. He’ll be home soon. When he gets here, I suggest you tell him about the baby. At least then, he won’t touch you.”

  She gasped as tears filled her eyes. That’s right. She’d told everyone, hadn’t she? About the way Frederick had touched her, wanted things from her even when she didn’t want to give them.

  “Promise me?”

  “Yes.” Fresh tears made their way down her cheeks.

  The door to her apartment closed.

  She slowly walked into the master bedroom, pulled the satin sheets over her body, and counted the turns of the fan.

  Only this time, she refused to be a victim.

  She refused to be afraid.

  Everything hurt.

  But in the end, her husband would hurt more.

  Fall Fashion Week Countdown - 8 Days

  Grace hadn’t said anything about the article, only, “thank you” and “see you at the shoot.” Considering all that had happened, the week had flown by, and when Friday came along, Brittany had the dark circles under her eyes to prove it.

  Everyone was getting set up.

  And Brittany was holed up in her office.

  Not wanting to go through with it.

  Not wanting to see him, less than a day after being back at that hospital.

  A knock sounded on her door.

  She looked up. Zoe stood there with her hands on her hips. “Well, you look like you haven’t slept in a year.”

  Brittany glared. “Good morning to you, too.”

  “How can I help?” Zoe asked, softer this time as her expression shifted from teasing to serious. “I mean it.”

  “I just want to get it over with. I can’t be with him. I lose my head, but it’s not just that, it’s—” She almost said it was what they shared, it was what he had done, it was what tethered them together, a daughter he’d never known, one she had given up. “It’s just a lot.”

  Zoe’s face softened. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll kick him in the presidential jewels if he does anything to make you upset.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Brittany smirked. “So, if he offends me, you’re just going to walk right up to him and shove your—” She looked around the table. “Camel-colored Manolo as far up as it will go?”

  “Basically.” Zoe crossed her arms. “Got any other ideas?”

  “Nope.” Brittany stood. “I guess we should head out.”

  “Slow your roll, Mary, Queen of Scots. You look like you’re ready to be beheaded.” Zoe elbowed her just as loud footsteps neared.

  “Grace,” they said in unison.

  Sure enough, Grace rounded the corner in a tuxedo jumpsuit and matching purple hat. “I need you, both of you.”

  “Sorry, we were just coming—”

  “No, no, no nothing like that.” She waved them off. “Let’s go, faster, keep up.” She turned on her heel. “One of the models, the new one who keeps staring at the camera when I ask her not to… Chrissy? Yes, Chrissy. She locked herself in the bathroom. Marnie can’t get her out, Frederick can’t get her out, Jauq—” She sighed. “You get the point. Nobody can get her to come out of the stupid bathroom, and we have a spread for Guess going on at the Loft in a few minutes. It’s none of our business, but Marnie brought her here to meet with the photographers. Long story short, get her out.” She turned and beamed. “And don’t my girls look lovely today? All right, off you go.”

  “Well, then.” Brittany stared up at the sign for the women’s restroom. “Any ideas?”

  Zoe’s eyebrows shot up. “We can bribe her with food.”

  “She’s not a dog!” Brittany said in a hushed voice.

  “You do realize at that age, it would have worked for both of us? I almost sold a T-shirt from a shoot for a candy bar.”

  Brittany scrunched up her nose. “That’s a good point.”

  “You think?” Zoe was already digging in her purse. “All I have are protein bars, but they have chocolate, so that should do.” She knocked on the door. “Hey, Chrissy? It’s Zoe and Brittany, can we come in?”

  “No.” The girl sniffled.

  “We have chocolate,” Zoe said in a chipper voice. “Please?”

  “No!” She yelled this time.

  Brittany chewed on her lower lip. “Can you at least tell us what’s wrong so we can help you?”

  “It’s…” Her voice cracked. “It’s… I don’t know… I don’t feel comfortable…”

  “Look,” Brittany interrupted her. “Just let us in, and we can talk. That way, it can be a private conversation. Plus, I’m sure whatever you’re dealing with, we’ve dealt with it too. All right? Models stick together.”

  Zoe made a gagging motion, earning a glare from Brittany.

  After a few seconds, the door clicked open.

  Thank God.

  Chrissy looked more beautiful than ever.

  How is it possible to look that good after you’ve been crying?

  Her hair hung straight past her shoulders. Her skin was clean from any makeup, and her eyes were wide and terrified.

  Brittany and Zoe moved into the bathroom and shoved the door closed behind them.

  “It’s embarrassing.” Chrissy hugged herself. “And it’s probably nothing. I just, I don’t feel comfortable anymore.”

  “Comfortable?” Zoe asked.

  “Yeah.” Chrissy’s eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t like taking my clothes off. I mean, they say it’s normal, that they need shots like that to—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Zoe held up her hands. “Who’s telling you to take off your clothes?”

  “Marnie.” She sniffled again. “I mean, she’s been a great agent so far.”

  Brittany shared a look with Zoe.

  “She says to basically do whatever the photographers say, and Jauq was getting really handsy with me. Like he said it was an accident, but he kept touching me and then apologizing, and then he asked me to go topless for a shot. I called Marnie, and she told me not to bother her with stupid stuff, and then Jauq said that I needed to look like I’d just woken up out of bed, so he roughed up my hair and kissed me really hard. I mean, he said it was to make my lips look swollen and pouty, he said it was no—”

  “Normal?” Brittany finished, anger pulsing through her body. “No. That’s not normal. At least, it shouldn’t be. And your agent—” She clenched her fists. “Your agent should have your back. Your agent should help protect you.”

  “How long is your contract?” Zoe asked out of the blue.

  “Another four months. And I obviously have to earn back what she’s invested in me. She said I may need to get implants, too, and—”

  “No.” Brittany was firm. “Let me get ahold of Roger. He represents us. Maybe we can come up with a way for him to sign you once you’re out from under Marnie. At the very least, we can get the agency out of the UK to pick you up so you have more options than Marnie.”

  “You would do that?” Chrissy asked in a broken voice. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Like we said.” Brittany smiled. “Models stick together. Plus, we know all about Marnie and her promises. She isn’t the most… respected agent in New York.”

  Chrissy frowned. “But didn’t she discover you guys? I mean, that’s why I didn’t even read my contract. I just freaked out over having the same agent that found
you guys.”

  Brittany clenched her teeth. “Yes, I guess in a way she did, but that’s not really what happened. Just promise me you’ll text one of us if you feel like you aren’t safe or if you have questions, okay?”

  Chrissy nodded, and then more tears came. “Thank you. I didn’t have anyone to talk to. My parents died in a car accident a year ago yesterday. I just… I think I’m overly emotional because I miss them, too.”

  “Oh, honey.” Brittany pulled her into her arms and hugged her tight as sadness washed over her. “I know what it’s like to love someone and lose them. I’m so sorry.”

  Chrissy clung to her so tightly, it was hard to breathe. “Thank you. Not to sound creepy, but you’re the one who got me through it. I’d talk to your stupid poster and imagine you giving me advice like you always do in your columns.”

  “Not creepy.” She soothed. “That’s why I do what I do.”

  “Thank you. I don’t think you realize how much girls like me idolize you. Both of you.”

  “Maybe not me,” Zoe teased.

  “Please.” Chrissy pulled back. “You’re flawless, and you have your own fashion line. I would have killed to go to the cattle call for that one.”

  Zoe beamed. “Next time, just text me that you want in. It’s that easy.”

  “What? Really?”

  “Really.” Zoe winked. “Now, can we please leave the smelly toilets and get you on your shoot so I can make sure Brittany doesn’t puke during hers?”

  “You get nervous?” Chrissy asked.

  “Yeah, something like that.” Brittany smiled through her very real fear of having to shoot something sexy for the magazine with Ronan. “Plus, it’s an old flame. Long, boring story.”

  “Ohhhh, Ronan Kampbell?” Chrissy suddenly looked like a teenager again. “Is he really that handsome in real life?”

  “Yup,” Zoe answered for Brittany. “Sadly, his soul is dark, and demons feed on his heart every time he closes his eyes.”

  “Zoe!” Brittany scolded. “He’s not that bad.”

  Zoe just shrugged. Right, this coming from the girl who was secretly in love with a crime boss.

  Pot, meet kettle.

  Brittany opened the door to the bathroom and nearly turned on her heel and locked it again.

  Because standing directly in front of them was the man himself, in the flesh—Ronan Kampbell. “Did you guys get to the part where you gossip about celebrities and paint your toenails?”

  “Holy crap!” Chrissy yelped behind them. “You’re—you’re—we were just talking about you!”

  “Were you?” He seemed amused as he looked down at Brittany with a smug expression. He returned his attention to Chrissy. “And who might you be?”

  “Huge fan,” Zoe said in a bored voice. “I’m gonna go see if they’re ready for you two.”

  “Traitor,” Brittany coughed under her breath.

  “Come along, tall one.” Zoe grabbed Chrissy by the arm. “Let’s go get you to Grace.”

  “Everything okay?” Ronan asked, leaning in far too close. He smelled good. Then again, he always smelled good. But something about him felt… fake. Maybe it had always been there, lingering. Perhaps she just noticed it more now because she’d been spending more time with Oliver. Whatever it was, she was thankful for it because it made it easier to protect herself.

  “Oh yeah, you know, teens, emotions.” She stopped herself when she realized that if she had kept her girl, she would have been close to that age.

  “Hey.” Ronan reached for her. “Where did your smile go?”

  “I think you killed it the day you didn’t come to the hospital,” she blurted.

  He jolted back as if she’d slapped him.

  “Ronan! Brittany! Here. Now. Photo shoot. Lots of people. Come!” Grace was already grumpy.

  Brittany flashed a smile and side-stepped Ronan in an effort to not fall apart all over again and say something else that would bring them back to the past.

  Because that was what they did. They circled one another. Someone threw a barb, and like a time machine, the hit took them back to that hospital room.

  Back to the moment where everything changed.

  Where choices had been made.

  Futures decided.

  Hearts shattered.

  “Britt—”

  “Not now,” she snapped as she hurried toward Grace and everyone else. She would be needed in makeup, wardrobe. At least she had a few hours before she had to face him again.

  And with that thought, she reached for the phone she’d shoved into her leather pants and pulled it out.

  Brittany: I know you’re probably saving someone’s life… but I miss you.

  Oliver: Actually… no… I just lost someone in the OR.

  Brittany: No! I’m so sorry! What can I do? What do you need?

  Oliver: Your text actually came at the perfect time, I was just sitting alone in my office staring at the wall, wondering where I went wrong, what I could have done differently. And praying for the teen’s family.

  A teen?

  Her heart broke.

  Brittany: You aren’t God. You’re gifted with an incredible ability. But you can’t save everyone. Even though that’s where your heart is.

  Oliver: He was thirteen. Can you imagine losing your son at thirteen?

  No, but she could imagine losing her daughter hours after she’d been born. But Oliver was hurting; this wasn’t about her. She couldn’t make it about her.

  Brittany: It isn’t natural to bury a child. Did you do everything you could?

  Oliver: Yes.

  Brittany: Do you trust that there’s always a reason? Always a plan?

  Oliver: As a doctor, it’s divided. Science and spirituality rarely meet in the middle, but I’ve seen too many things, experienced too many miracles to believe otherwise. There is always a reason. Always a plan. But that doesn’t make it any easier when you have to tell someone’s parents that you failed.

  Brittany: I know. I’m at my shoot, but I’ll say a prayer for you. If you want to cancel tonight…

  Oliver: No! I’m looking forward to tonight. I need the distraction. It’s not the best day of my life, and I feel selfish, I keep thinking about you and him. It’s stiff competition, but I’m hoping that at least in the humor category, I have him beat since he destroyed me in the looks and power department.

  Brittany: Not in the looks department… and power is fleeting. Remember that.

  Oliver: Did you just call me sexy?

  Brittany: Ha-ha, I think you’re grasping there, Romeo.

  Oliver: What was that? I’m the sexiest man alive? I should have had the cover of People?

  Brittany: You’re impossible.

  Oliver: See? Funny. I’m funny. The funny ones always last, we have staying power, the pretty ones just end up in trouble.

  Brittany: Amen to that.

  Oliver: Thank you for texting me. Thank you for being you. Just. Thank you. I may have a slight crush on you, but not the type where I light candles and chant, just a normal, healthy, wow she’s beautiful, and I want to kiss her endlessly crush. Hope that’s okay.

  Brittany’s smile was so wide, the makeup artist had to stop doing what she was doing. “Sorry.”

  Brittany: Endless kissing sounds exhausting.

  Oliver: I’ll do the heavy lifting.

  Brittany: Color me shocked.

  Oliver: I gotta go, see you tonight?

  Brittany: You can count on it.

  She set her phone down while her makeup artist arched his brows. “Boyfriend?”

  She opened her mouth to say “yes” then stopped. Yeah, they were seeing each other, but Oliver was right, it was friendship, but one that could move into something so much more meaningful. “A friend. A really good friend.” With gorgeous eyes, an insane smile, and the ability to make even the most stressful days seem perfect.

  “Right.” The makeup artist laughed. “I have that dopey smile on my face when I talk about my
friends, too.” He shook his head. “It’s all right, keep your secrets. Now close so I can do your shadow.”

  Brittany had never been the type of person to get nervous before a shoot. She knew it was fun—or it was supposed to be, at least. But this time? The stakes were higher, and she knew the minute that she locked eyes with Ronan, she would have to pretend.

  Pretend that it was okay.

  Pretend that he hadn’t hurt her.

  Pretend that they were friends.

  Grace gave her a once-over. “Stop pinching your face, you look constipated.”

  Well, how was that for honesty?

  Brittany relaxed her face and made a solid effort to look happy and at ease as she joined Ronan on set.

  There was a bed.

  Panic set in.

  What kind of shoot was this?

  Jauq made his way toward Brittany. “The idea is to show the perfect American family. Brad and Angelina did a shoot like it years ago, and it killed. We have a few models who will act like your children. All in all, we should be done in a few hours. Where’s your robe?”

  She looked down at her silk dress.

  Was it supposed to be a nightgown? She hadn’t really been paying attention. It was a black slip dress that went down to her knees, and they’d put her hair loose around her shoulders.

  Ronan was already sitting in bed. The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned as if he’d just come home from a long day at work, and all Brittany could think of was…

  This should have been my life.

  Her future.

  Coming home to him like this.

  Sharing a bed with him, laughing about something silly that their kids had done.

  Family dinners.

  Thanksgivings.

  Christmases.

  It was supposed to look just like this shoot.

  But reality wasn’t the same as her teenage dreams, was it?

  She swallowed the sadness lodged in her throat and took a step, then another. Finally, she was standing near the bed while Ronan grabbed the newspaper in his hands and grinned at her. “Hey, wife.”

  She stilled.

  His face softened as he reached for her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “You didn’t mean it? It’s all just pretend?” she said through clenched teeth.