“Ideas. Now,” Hampstead said.
A couple of pretty boys made suggestions about changing fonts on certain pages into something like Mix but Hampstead shut them down with a cool gaze.
“Tyler,” Hampstead said, turning her gaze to him.
“I know the new guy at Mix. He used to do posters for indie bands back in the day, and he also worked as a promoter. So he’s going for a rock n’ roll kind of feel, and given the spring lines they’ll be featuring, it fits. That’s not us. We need to stay classic but with a few little tweaks here and there. Maybe a bit playful. A little bolder.”
He clearly had a different relationship with her than the others gathered around the table. Tyler served as the royal advisor, while everybody else was a mere acolyte.
“Ms. Daniels?” Hampstead said, still looking at Tyler. The room seemed to hold its collective breath.
“Agent Carter,” Ellie said. It was the first thing that popped into her head, and it seemed to take even Hampstead aback, because she raised her eyebrows.
“Meaning what, exactly?” Hampstead asked.
“Does anyone here watch the TV series?” Ellie continued. She was met with a couple of smiles from the other side of the table and a few nods. Hampstead’s expression remained utterly unreadable. “Okay,” Ellie continued, “what about evoking something like that? Kind of a bold forties retro thing with a palette that’s both muted and splashy, like the comics and the show.” Oh, my God. Had she just said that? Ellie fought a laugh at how ridiculous that sounded.
Tyler broke the silence. “I like it. There’s something to it.”
“Here.” Ellie pulled up an image that featured the character wearing a red fedora and pointing a gun. She handed him her phone.
“Striking,” Tyler said. “Bold. But still classic and classy.” He took the phone to Hampstead, who studied the image for a long moment while he waited. Ellie watched Hampstead’s fingers, wrapped around her phone. She had great hands.
Hampstead handed the phone back to him, and he passed it to Ellie as he took his seat.
“Other ideas?” Hampstead asked, sitting like she was on a throne.
A few brave souls offered tentative ideas about positioning of different elements on certain pages keyed to fonts and other graphic touches. Hampstead allowed it to go on for another fifteen minutes, and then she raised her hand. That’s all it took. Everybody shut up. Ellie glanced at the clock on her phone. Thirty minutes on the money.
“Thank you, all,” she said and almost on one accord, everyone got up, including Tyler. Ellie was a second late to stand because she didn’t know the protocol until just then. Most started to leave, but Tyler lingered.
“Set a meeting up with design,” Hampstead said to him. “No later than tomorrow afternoon.”
“Already done. We’re on for eleven. It should be on your calendar.”
And that’s why he was the royal advisor. Ellie moved past him toward the door, figuring Hampstead would want to plot world fashion domination with him.
“Thanks, Ellie,” Tyler said.
She smiled. “Thanks to both of you for letting me attend.” Oh, hell, yes. She had this acolyte speak down. Next stop, state dinners. Hampstead caught her gaze. Unreadable on the surface, but there was definitely something beneath. Lots of things. And they all made Ellie feel like she had a campfire low in her belly, and even lower than that. Uh-oh. She definitely had the hots for a target.
But damn, who could blame her? Hampstead was like Helen of Troy. A little scarier, but oh, so delicious.
“Agent Carter,” Ellie muttered under her breath as she headed toward the coffee room. Now Hampstead would remember her as the crazy intern, thus making her job that much harder to gather information. Or, better yet, Hampstead would dismiss her as yet another dumbass intern and think nothing more of her.
Somehow, Ellie doubted that. Nothing got past Hampstead, and that might pose a big problem.
CHAPTER 5
“Did you talk to your UK people?” Ellie asked around the piece of candy in her mouth as she talked to Rick on the phone. She paused and leaned against a nearby building. She was really early today, and Fashion Forward was two blocks away.
“Waiting to hear back from a couple, but the other ones hadn’t heard anything. They like the angle, and they’re checking with some of their connections.”
“If he’s playing arms dealer and brokering hits, that would explain why the Petrovs are chasing him around.”
“The question still remains, why those three guys in particular? Could be Daddy Koslov just asked Hampstead to look into the deaths, using his contacts. He probably deals with international intrigue all the time, so maybe that’s the deal.”
“Fine. Ruin my thriller, dude.” She unwrapped another piece of candy.
Rick snorted a laugh. “Okay, I have to check with another precinct about a small-time crook they hauled in. He might be a Petrov. Maybe we can get something out of him if that’s the case.”
“Oh, sure. You get all the exciting assignments while I’m stuck in a high-rise office all day with fashion-obsessed people.”
“Spare me, Els. Marya Hampstead is very easy on the eyes. And I’m sure if it came down to it, you wouldn’t kick any of those beautiful people out of bed.”
Ellie chewed the last bit of the candy, thinking about the way Hampstead’s blouses fit her. “Whatever,” she said after a pause.
“And the fact that you had to think about it just then is my proof. I’ll check in with you later.”
“Fine,” she said, irritated. This case was still going nowhere. She’d been interning for almost two weeks, and with the exception of the flip phone incident, Marya Hampstead hadn’t done anything to suggest she was on the take with an international arms dealer. Unless she was just that good at it. Hiding in plain sight, as a celebrity. That was brazen, but if it was true, she sort of admired Marya for it, though she still thought the key to this whole thing was Marya’s dad.
Ellie dropped her phone into her shoulder bag as she walked. She would be at Fashion Forward twenty minutes early, and when she entered the building’s massive lobby, the digital clock at the security counter proved her right.
She walked toward the elevators, her heels clicking on the marble. If nothing else, she’d gotten really good walking in shoes like these. Her fashion consultant had granted her a light gray pantsuit today, with another fitted but masculine-cut shirt in white and, much to Ellie’s delight, a slim black tie to match her black heels. The maroon flaps on the pockets of her blazer gave her the “edgy factor” the consultant kept talking about.
Ellie had almost made it to the elevators when she heard her name in an all-too-familiar voice. No time to run. And she’d probably look crazed if she tried to while dressed like this. She turned, steeling herself.
“Oh, hey. Hi, Gwen.” Really? Her ex here in the Fashion Forward building?
“I thought that was you. Hi.”
Before Ellie could prepare, Gwen gave her a quick hug.
“You look really nice,” Gwen said as she stepped back.
“Thanks. So do you.” But Gwen always looked good. Today’s power suit was a sleek blue that matched her eyes. She wore a very classy off-white blouse, and it amused Ellie that she knew the blouse was silk just by looking at it. Only two weeks at Fashion Forward and look at her now.
“Hello,” said the guy standing to Gwen’s right. His power suit was a light green, cut in a slim line that fit him really well, along with a classic light blue pinstripe shirt with a dark blue tie.
Gwen introduced the guy with her, then said, “This is Ellie—”
“Daniels,” Ellie said smoothly, cutting Gwen off. “Nice to meet you.” Gwen frowned, but didn’t say anything, fortunately. “So what brings you two here?”
“We have an appointment with a client,” Gwen said.
“Ah. Well, we can ride up together.” Ellie smiled. “Come on.” She should win an Oscar for this performance. She cont
inued to the elevator, hoping Gwen would suddenly be called away to the other side of New York on more important business. She pressed the button, dreading how long they’d have to wait.
“So—” Gwen started.
“Ms. Daniels,” another voice said.
Oh, God. Ellie hadn’t seen Marya approach since she’d been focused on getting through the next few minutes with Gwen. “Ms. Hampstead.” She offered her most professional smile. She recognized the two men with her, but she didn’t know their names. They smiled at her and murmured greetings.
“Gwen,” Marya said with a smile. She took her sunglasses off. “It’s been a while. How are you?”
Ellie tried to make it look like she wasn’t staring, but she was sure it wasn’t working.
“I’m well, thank you. I saw your latest projects are bringing some well-deserved accolades. Kudos to you and your staff.”
“We do try,” Marya said with another smile, and Ellie forced herself not to look at Marya’s lips because when she smiled, it made them that much more inviting. How much more awkward could this get? And since when did Marya smile? At Ellie’s ex, no less?
Marya turned to Ellie. “Gwen’s law firm handled a situation we had a few months ago. Gwen, this is Ellie Daniels. She’s doing an internship with us.” She ignored Gwen’s colleague, who seemed to grasp that this was a woman you really didn’t want to mess with.
“We’ve met,” Ellie said, giving Gwen another one of her professional smiles, hoping Gwen wouldn’t blow her cover.
“Yes,” Gwen said with an answering professional smile. “Different circumstances. Just a coincidence, running into each other here.”
The elevator dinged, and the door opened, disgorging several passengers. Ellie wanted to throw herself inside and kiss the floor because there would be at least ten other people riding up with her and she wouldn’t have to talk to either Gwen or Marya.
The elevator did fill up, but Ellie ended up between Marya and Gwen. The gods were not smiling on her this day. Perhaps it was penance for smacking Yuri Laskin with Gwen’s blender, though you’d think they’d appreciate it, given Laskin’s history.
“So how do you two know each other?” Marya asked, and Ellie wasn’t sure which surprised her more, the question itself or the fact that Marya Hampstead, ice queen, had asked it. And so help her, God, but Marya looked amazing. She wore a blouse the color of some ritzy red wine and herringbone pants and matching jacket. The latter had a cool military cut to it, like one of those World War II short uniform jackets soldiers wore, and her collar was open to expose an understated silver necklace with a small pendant that held a black stone.
“We met at a fundraising event a while back,” Gwen said, giving Ellie a pointed look. “We stayed in touch.”
Ellie silently thanked Gwen. And it was a true story, so Gwen didn’t have to lie. She’d have to have lunch with her now.
“And how did you come to intern with Marya?” Gwen asked Ellie, and Ellie silently cancelled the lunch.
“Pure chance. I saw the listing and applied. You know I’ve always wanted to get more involved in fashion publishing.” She gave Gwen her own version of a pointed look. “Chasing a dream.”
The elevator stopped at the twentieth floor before Gwen could say anything else and several people got out. One of Marya’s assistants held the door open as Gwen and her colleague worked their way out.
“Good to see you,” Marya said to Gwen. “I’ll contact you later. If you have some time this week, perhaps we can catch up.”
“I’d like that.” Gwen stepped off the elevator. “Don’t be a stranger,” she said to Ellie as the doors closed.
Catch up? Ellie’s ex and Marya Hampstead? What the hell? Still eleven floors to go. And still shoved in tight next to Marya. So tight that their arms were touching, and Ellie was afraid the heat level within her would seep through her clothes and Marya would feel it. So not cool to be this attracted to a target. So not cool at all. The elevator stopped again and a few more people got off, which allowed Ellie to move away from Marya, who appeared to be scrolling through email on her phone.
Finally, the elevator arrived at the floor for Fashion Forward. Ellie waited for Marya and her boys to get off first before she headed for the coffee, though she would’ve liked something stronger.
“Ms. Daniels,” Marya said, and Ellie turned, maintaining a perfect professional veneer. “That’s a good look on you.” Marya tugged on her own collar to indicate the tie, and then continued through the lobby. One of her boys stared curiously at Ellie for another few seconds.
Seriously? Marya Hampstead just complimented her outfit? Ellie went to get a cup of coffee, wondering what the ice queen had up her sleeve. When she got to her office, she fired off a text to Gwen: “Good to see you. Working a case. Catch up with you later.” There. That was nice enough. Liz wasn’t at her desk, but the cup of coffee on her desk was steaming, and there was a stack of layouts on Ellie’s desk to proofread. Good thing she did have an eye for that.
She sat down and started going through the layouts, trying to concentrate, but she kept thinking about Gwen and then Marya. Awkward, to be sandwiched between her ex and a woman she kind of had a crush on, who may or may not be dealing international arms—hello. What was this? Ellie stared at the photo, a full-page shot of a model doing the catwalk thing. The photo credit said “Nadia Koslov.”
“Oh, hi,” Liz said as she entered. She put another batch of layouts on her desk.
“Hi. Who’s this?” Ellie pointed at the photo.
Liz leaned over. “Oh, that’s Natalie Koslov. She goes by Nadia professionally, though.”
“Koslov?”
“Yeah. She’s not Russian, though. Well, I mean, she is, but she was born here, so she’s a US citizen. She has a lot of family in the city and in Russia.”
Of course she does. “What’s her connection to Fashion Forward?” Ellie asked, trying to sound mildly curious. “I haven’t seen her in any of the other layouts.”
“Besides the fact that Ms. Hampstead knows everybody in the industry?” Liz asked with a smile.
Ellie smiled back. “Dumb question, right?”
“Well, some models do get more play here. Natalie’s one of them. Ms. Hampstead likes her attitude.” Liz shrugged. “She uses her images quite a bit.”
“Do you know her?”
“Natalie?”
Ellie nodded.
“No, but she comes around. I’ve seen her a few times in Marya’s office. A couple weeks ago. Like, the Wednesday before you started work here. I think she’s a cousin of that guy who sometimes hangs around Ms. Hampstead. Lyev? I think that’s his name.”
Thank you, Liz, Ellie thought. “Cool. Maybe someday I’ll be able to sling names around like you.”
Liz laughed and sat down at her own desk. They worked in silence for a while until Liz put her phone on a nearby speaker and streamed some innocuous pop music. Ellie waited a few more minutes before she ran a basic web search on Nadia Koslov. Pretty well known on the circuit, it looked like. She even had her own website. Ellie glanced at Liz, who was engrossed in her own stack of layouts, and clicked on the appearances page on Koslov’s site. And how interesting. She was doing a show this Saturday, the day after tomorrow, in the city. Sponsored by Fashion Forward.
A knock sounded on the office door and both looked up as it opened.
“Hey,” Tyler said. “Do you have a minute, Ellie?”
“Sure.” She stepped out of the office.
“So I’ve got a great opportunity for you,” he said. “But there’s a catch.”
“There always is. What is it?”
“I need someone to be a gopher at a fashion show. It’s not the best work, and people can be bitchy, but you’ll get to see how it works on the ground.”
“What’s the catch?” Ellie asked.
“Besides the bitchy?”
“That goes with the territory,” she said with a smile.
He laughed. “True. I
see you’re learning how things work. The catch is, it’s Saturday.”
Oh, hell, yes. “I’m in.”
He smiled again, this time with obvious relief. “Thank you so much. I’ll warn you now that it gets a little hectic at a show, even though most of the stuff we do for Fashion Week is already over.”
“Just tell me what you want me to do.”
“Thanks. Stop by my office around four today, and I’ll give you some tips. I won’t be around much tomorrow, since I’ll be busy at the venue.”
“Okay. Thanks for the invite.”
“Oh, and, wear something similar to what you have on. It’s a great look on you.” He hurried away, but called back over his shoulder, “And wear comfortable shoes.”
That was good news. She could be a little more butch and get away with it, and she was for sure ditching the heels on Saturday, no matter what her consultant said. Ellie went back into her office and returned to looking at layouts, and then she went online and called up twelve months of back issues of every Fashion Forward publication. She sent the links to Rick and told him to get with the IT people and run searches for Russian models—especially ones that worked regularly with the house of Hampstead. She included the link to Natalie Koslov’s website and told him to run down everything he could find on her.
Could be a coincidence, a Koslov in the model stable. And since Natalie was related to Lyev, it could be Lyev helped her get a job in the industry, and introduced her to Marya. But it seemed a little too coincidental.
Liz got up with a stack of layouts. “More coffee?” she asked.
“That’d be great. Italian roast, a little bit of cream.”
“Okay.” Liz left, and Ellie dug into her purse for another cinnamon candy. She was running low. Should’ve bought some at lunch. While Liz was gone, she ran some searches trying to determine why Gwen might’ve been involved with Fashion Forward. Nothing showed up, but Ellie wasn’t surprised. Marya kept a tight lid on company business, and Gwen did the same. Which meant Ellie would have to ask Gwen personally, especially if there were no records of whatever the matter was. If it didn’t get to court and if there were no formal charges, there wouldn’t be any paper trail in public documents.
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