Fashion Faux Paw

by Judi McCoy

  Anton grabbed the hat and passed it to Lawan while Ellie and Marcus helped Beatriz stand. It was then Ellie spotted something strapped to the model’s thigh.

  She narrowed her eyes, focusing on the woman’s leg as she stood and straightened the skirt. No, it couldn’t be.

  She blinked when Anton snapped his fingers. “Ms. Engleman, we’re running behind. Get that hat on.”

  She swung around to help Lawan with the clip. Then she scuttled alongside as the model walked to the curtain, still reeling over what she thought she saw.

  “I got it,” said Lawan, right before she strode onto stage.

  Spinning in place, Ellie searched for Beatriz and found her with Marcus, standing out of the way while he helped rearrange her coat and dress. Patti stood alongside, holding both dogs in a sit.

  Was Beatriz truly wearing a gun?

  The new model raised her gaze and their eyes connected. When she winked, a flush of warning crept from Ellie’s stomach to her chest.

  Yes, she’d seen a gun, and Beatriz knew it.

  “Hey, Ellie, how about a hand!” Julie said in a loud whisper.

  The question shook Ellie from her disastrous daydream and she turned. Dominique and Crystal were waiting, and Julie was wrestling with their dogs. Spike had stuck his back leg through the fifth sleeve and was hopping like a lame rabbit.

  “Oh, crap!” Ellie bent to undo the damage. Lawan and Kate returned from the catwalk, and she stood. Dominique and Crystal were off in a flash, their dogs prancing at their side.

  One minute later, Anton’s models marched in to line up behind Marcus and his crew, but Lawan held Daisy’s hat in her hand.

  Ellie rushed over. “What happened?”

  “The little stinker won’t let me clip it,” the model answered, her voice a moan. “It dropped on the runway and I had to pick it up.”

  Anton clasped Ellie’s arm. “Do something, dog lady, or I’ll—”

  “What? Have her sew it on?” snapped Marcus, who looked ready for a fight.

  Ellie wrenched her arm away and laid a hand on Marcus. “Don’t start anything. I’ll be back.”

  Rushing to Julie and Kitty, she helped with Yasmine and Cassandra’s mini Schnauzers, making sure their jackets and chains were straight and their booties were tied tight.

  Down in a squat, she smiled at both pooches. “You two look great. Remember to sell yourself for Kitty. She wants to win this thing, and you’ll be stars.”

  Kitty grinned when Ellie stood. She followed her models to the edge of the curtain with Ellie by her side, and they watched Yasmine, in her pale green jacket and skirt, and Cassandra, in her identical jacket and fitted slacks, strut the catwalk with the dogs.

  Lights flashed and the crowd oohed and aahed, just as they had for the other designs, but she again wished there was an applause meter at work. Because she was certain, if they had a meter in place, it would show that Kitty had won the audience vote.

  She scanned the stage just as Yasmine and Cassandra returned to the waiting area. Kurt Jager thanked them and announced the models’ and dogs’ final return. Lined up in the order in which they appeared, everyone, including the designers, strode back to the stage.

  Edging through the cluster of gofers and stylists trying to see around the curtain, Ellie craned her neck and searched the mob. All the movers and shakers were in place: Anna Wintour, Grace Coddington, the big guy from W, Stefano Tonchi, and the Harper’s rep, Glenda Bailey. And directly behind them sat Vivian, Georgette, and Stanley.

  Viv spotted her and waved, and Ellie raised her hand high. She had no idea how Viv had gotten them such prime seats, but she owed her best friend a favor. Today was a day her mother would never forget, and she’d been a part of it.

  She concentrated on the models, amazed at the way they managed to control their steps when so many were on the catwalk. Patti and Beatriz did a sort of glide and stride, though Beatriz appeared to be uncomfortable with the steps, and Ellie understood her awkwardness. She imagined she’d walk like a duck if she had a gun strapped to her thigh.

  Lawan and Kate’s footwork seemed sultry and sleek, which matched Anton Rouch’s dresses, while Dominique and Crystal’s walk was springy and fun, more camp than glamour, the way they decided it should be when they wore the outlandish creations of Fiona Ray.

  Kitty’s models, Yasmine and Cassandra were last, and they did a combination bump and slide that did perfect justice to their stylish outfits.

  Each dog was on target, too, trotting beside its mistress as if it loved to dress in high fashion. Even Daisy, who refused to wear her hat, carried the tam in her mouth, which was a real scene stealer with the audience.

  The room sparkled with light, from both the viewers’ and photographers’ cameras. The press crammed the edge of the stage, hoping to catch a quote from a model or designer, and some people even reached up to pet a dog.

  After thanking everyone for participating, Kurt asked the group to leave the area, and they filed off in order. Backstage, the models raced for bottled water or juice. Eduardo stormed in with his makeup palette and began dusting faces with powder. The designers waited until he was through, then rushed to straighten the collars, cuffs, and hemlines of their creations.

  “Phew! I’m glad that’s over,” mumbled Julie, propped against the far table with a juice bottle in her hand. “The pressure in here is so much more intense than on a regular shoot.”

  “The size of this prize is enough to make anyone serious,” said Ellie. “The contract will bolster the designer’s career. Can you imagine your clothes hanging alongside those of the Olsen twins? Or finding out the dress Michelle Obama wore to visit a school or cut a ribbon was yours?”

  “I guess, because I sure would like to accessorize for the Row or one of the big houses.” Julie swallowed a gulp of juice, then cocked her head. “Hey, listen to that voice. Patti’s sister is good.”

  Noting the hush of the crowd as Janice began to sing, Ellie smiled. “Julie, can you do me a favor? Start down the line and make sure the little guys look okay, their clothes are on straight, that sort of thing. I have to talk to someone.”

  She scanned the models and found Patti standing with her eyes closed, her face a wash of color as she listened to her sister. Edging through the throng, she inched past Marcus and sidled up to big sis. When the first number finished to thunderous applause, Patti opened her tear-filled hazel eyes.

  Ellie grabbed her hand and squeezed. “She’s fabulous. Congratulations.”

  “I was so worried a while ago, when I heard her talk, but I guess that lemon and tea drink Julie fixed did the trick. I just hope Mom and Dad have the TV on. I reminded them, but sometimes they forget.”

  “Want me to call and give them another reminder?”

  “Gee, would you?” Patti swiped a tear from her cheek and gave the number while Ellie punched it in. “If I don’t stop crying Eduardo’s gonna kill me.” She sniffed, watching Ellie listen to the ring. “Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.”

  Minutes passed while Ellie spoke to the elder Fallgraves, who assured her the show was taping on their television screen and they were watching both their daughters. Grinning, she gave Patti the message and stepped back, bumping into Beatriz.

  “Oh, gosh, excuse me. I didn’t see you there.”

  “No problem,” said the model. She arched a brow. “So you’re the dog walker.”

  “I am in real life, but I’m a lot more here. Dog walker, dog watcher, dog groomer, dog dresser—anything they need done is my job—and my assistant’s.”

  Janice began her second number and Ellie knew she didn’t have much time to get to the big question, if she got to it at all. “So, you’re a model?”

  “Uh, yeah,” said Beatriz, her expression blank.

  “But you’re new. I asked around and no one here has ever seen your work.”

  “I know. Marcus grilled me, but I couldn’t give him many credentials either.”

  “So where have you w
orked?”

  “LA runways, mostly.”

  “This is a prime job, you know. The way I understand it, girls were lined up for blocks when this contest was announced and the call went out that Nola Morgan Design needed models.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  Beatriz’s simple sentences ticked Ellie off. What wasn’t the woman saying?

  “So your agent must have told you about this job.”

  “Nope. Don’t have an agent.”

  Song two finished to another round of applause, and Janice immediately segued into her third number. There had to be a way to figure out the real reason the girl was here, Ellie decided. Pandemonium would break as soon as the winner was announced, and she might not get Beatriz alone again.

  “Then how were you able to sub for Claire, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Beatriz’s features stayed cast in stone, her dark eyes unblinking, her lush mouth compressed. “I just happened to walk in looking for work when Mr. Prince found out the other model called in sick.”

  “That was a lucky break for you. I gather it’s dangerous living in LA, with you wearing that gun and all.”

  The model’s expression didn’t change. “I’m sure you’ll agree, a woman alone has to be careful in any big city.”

  Another roar of applause broke out and Marcus laid his hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Time to let us go. Wish me luck.”

  Just before she stepped back, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, his lips lingering. The models, designers, and dogs moved to the stage.

  “Did I just see what I think I saw?”

  Ellie turned to find Julie, her mouth creased in a smile, staring. “I thought you were checking on the dogs.”

  “I was, I mean I did, but Janice stopped singing and Kurt broke the applause to call the gang back out. When I looked up, there you were, and there was Marcus, kissing you and grinning like a fool.”

  “It was nothing. He wanted me to wish him luck.” Intent on shutting Julie up, she shrugged. “No biggie.”

  “Okay, if you say so.” It was obvious her assistant didn’t believe the statement. “And you’re going to tomorrow night’s party as his date.”

  “His platonic date,” Ellie clarified. “I made that clear when I agreed to go.”

  Julie heaved a sigh. “I’d take a date with him, platonic or not. You are one lucky girl.”

  Ellie moved closer to the stage, and Julie followed. The cluster of assistants and stylists had grown, causing Julie, at no more than five-one, to jumped up and down. Ellie gave silent thanks for having a bit of extra height as she peered over several of the heads.

  “What’s happening? I can’t see,” whined her assistant.

  “Then scootch in. I’m sure they’ll let you through.” Ellie nodded to the crowd hovering in front of them. As if on cue the throng parted and Julie was able to gain a few extra feet in her quest for the curtain.

  Kurt Jager centered himself between the group of models, designers, and dogs, giving a megawatt smile. Then he announced the arrival of Nola and Morgan, the owners of Nola Morgan Design. Blinding lights continued to flash while the piano player plunked out a jingle of excitement.

  “Thanks to all of you for celebrating with us,” Morgan Prince began. “As many of you know, this is our third year in business, and we’re ready to take the next step in our career. We appreciate you all for being here to share in our good fortune.”

  Cheers sounded, along with applause.

  “So, the moment is at hand,” said Nola, her face flushed. “The winner of our grand prize, one hundred thousand dollars, and their line of clothing to be featured in our fall 2012 collection is . . .”

  The crowd held their breath, as if they were a single entity. Ellie had no idea a break in the announcement could create such suspense.

  “Kitty King.”

  Nola rushed to embrace Kitty, who already had tears in her eyes. Everyone was focused on the girl and her models, who were squealing with joy, but Ellie found herself drawn to the dogs, as they were always her first priority.

  Amid all the racket, lights, and music filling the arena, Klingon had jumped into Morgan Prince’s arms.

  She did a double take, unsure of which dog he held, but Yasmine had gathered a mini Schnauzer to her chest, and that could only be her own Jojo.

  “Pick me up, will ya. I can’t see a thing through all these human legs.”

  She squatted in place and lifted her boy. “Did you hear? Our Kitty won. Isn’t that great?”

  “Sure, but why do you look like you swallowed squirrel poop?”

  “I do not,” Ellie huffed out. “Now be quiet and I’ll let you see what’s going on.”

  Rudy stretched his neck and scanned the stage. Ellie imagined chaos, but that was only a guess. There was so much noise, such loud music, so much applause and cheering.

  She let him down slowly, and nestled him against her. “Seen enough?”

  “There’s more crazy goin’ on out there than a Super Bowl win. I say we sit back and let things settle. I could use a biscuit, and I bet the other guys could, too.”

  “That’s a great idea. Let me see if I can find Julie.” The backstage crowd thinned as people seeped onto the stage. She guessed the press had given the high sign. They would let things stall for a couple of minutes, then take more formal pictures of Nola and Morgan with the winner and each of the other designers.

  She set Rudy in the pen. “Hang tight while I look for her.”

  Ellie spotted a cluster of orange curls and made a beeline for her assistant. “I suggest you collect the dogs before they get hurt. With all those stilettos stomping around someone is bound to get stepped on, and there’s a good chance a delicate bone might break.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Julie left to do her thing and Ellie returned to her usual spot on the chairs next to the snack table, which had been expanded to hold a bevy of goodies. Upon arrival, she tried to hold back her surprise as she took a seat next to Jeffery King. She hadn’t noticed earlier, but he wore the clothes of an ordinary gofer: plain khaki slacks, a worn dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and sneakers.

  “You’re not going to join in your sister’s celebration?”

  He raised a shoulder. “It’s Kitty’s time to shine, and I don’t want to tarnish it for her. It won’t look good in the papers if she’s standing next to an accused murderer.”

  The words, said so strongly, hit Ellie in the heart. “I don’t think she’d mind.”

  “She wouldn’t, but the press would have a field day, and I don’t want to take anything away from her big moment.” He folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. “I love her too much to let suspicion cloud her dream.”

  “So you weren’t there when Nola and Morgan were discussing the winner?”

  “Nope. In fact, I was against a far wall at the rear of the auditorium listening to Patti’s sister sing. The press saw me, and Detective Vaughn did, too.”

  “Detective Vaughn is here?”

  “He has been for a while.”

  “But I never saw him backstage.”

  “Maybe he just wanted to keep an eye on me. Who knows?”

  “Want me to find out?” It was time she spoke to Vaughn about what she’d learned, and quizzing him about his watching Jeffery would be a good lead in. “I have to talk to him anyway.”

  “So you’re going to tell him what you discovered last night?”

  “There are a few things he should know, and I can drop the question about you into the conversation, just to see what he says.”

  Movement from the crowd caught her attention and she raised her gaze to see Julie struggling with a group of canines. “Oops, I’d better help my assistant first, or there’s going to be trouble.”

  “Can I do anything?”

  Ellie counted the dogs and saw that four were missing, and one of them was Cheech. “You’d have to go onstage.”

  “Don’t worry. I can play invis
ible when I have to.”

  “Okay, then. Collect Patti’s Chihuahua and any other dogs you see. I doubt the models will need them for a while.”

  Standing, Jeffery edged through the thinning crowd. The noise level had lowered, and things were calming down. She walked to the pen and helped Julie with her charges. Spike had again stuck a foot through the obnoxious fifth leg of his coat, and she bent to straighten it. Daisy had no tam, and Ellie could only imagine where it was. Lucy appeared calm and collected as if used to crowds, and so did Jojo.

  “How are things out there?” she asked her assistant.

  “Almost under control. The security guards are leading people offstage. I hear they’re checking tickets. It appears about a hundred were marked with a purple X on the back.”

  “Ahh, who got those?”

  “The ones given to the models and the bigwigs. I guess they figured the models would only give their extras to the ‘in’ crowd or family, and those folks are okay.”

  Ellie groaned internally. Great. She’d given Viv, Stanley, and Georgette Patti’s tickets, so they had the ones with the X. Her mother would be at this party with bells on.

  They turned at the rattle of bottles. The caterers were back, and they were pushing a cart stacked with cases of champagne. A three-tiered cart followed behind, that one filled with appetizers, and another followed with napkins, glasses, and all manner of serving supplies.

  “This place is fast becoming a zoo. Where do you suggest we take the dogs?”

  Julie scoped out the area, then smiled. “How about if we just move things back about twenty feet and set ourselves up a couple of chairs, sort of like a line of sitting guards? Think that will work?”

  Jeffery came up behind them and joined in. “Sure. You two pull the pen out while I collect the chairs. We’ll take our seats and stay in place, spell each other if we need the restroom or something to eat. No one gets close to these little guys without going through us.”

  Impressed, the girls followed his suggestion. In ten minutes the dogs were protected and munching on Sara Studebaker’s gourmet biscuits, while Julie poured bottled water into their bowls. Some had even settled into their dog beds and were already asleep.