by Julia Kent
Entering the mall that hosted Fashion Week, we were in awe as we walked along the gleaming ivory marble floors, not much different than those at work, but somehow much more glamorous to us. Following the flow of people wearing some of the most eclectic styles, I felt a little plain dressed so casually but knew I was finally where I dreamed of being.
While the show didn’t start for another couple of days, today was really important because it was the first time we would meet our models and the last time we would see them until an hour before showtime. The measurements we got today needed to be perfect.
Even everyone with their black glossy Fashion Week access passes dangling around their necks, seemed special. After collecting our passes, I looked at mine for a moment and smiled seeing ‘Deborah Hansen, Designer’ printed across it.
A short red haired woman with ‘volunteer’ on her badge, showed us to the space Hargrove’s arranged for us to use for fittings and alterations. It was a white room with just enough room for two sewing machines, several dress forms, a long table, and a three-way mirror that reminded me of Will the day I took his measurements.
My palms were moist as I unpacked my designs and waited for the models to arrive. I had a lot of work ahead of me since I designed the clothes for a bigger girl than what the models would be.
“Look,” Dianna said as she elbowed me, “the Amazons have arrived.”
Stifling a giggle I looked at the doorway. A group of ten tall overly thin women walked into the room chatting with each other. My eyes darted quickly over their bodies as the butterflies in my stomach morphed into a twisted knot.
“Oh no, it’s even worse than I imagined,” I said under my breath.
All I could see were protruding collar bones, sunken in cheeks, and clothes that hung off bodies no different than a plastic hanger. The models looked unhealthy. Some of the problems I saw could be fixed with hair and make up, but the part that mattered to me the most were their bodies and these models were much too thin.
“Are you ok?” Dianna asked quietly. “You look a little green.”
Breathing deeply as I tried to calm myself, I opened my mouth to speak but squeaked instead. My throat felt like one of the models got lodged in there. Tears slowly stung my eyes so I looked around trying to stop them from spilling onto my cheeks.
As I blinked and fought back tears, Will walked through the door with Stewart close behind him. Don’t let him see me like this! Turning away I hoped to somehow disappear or blend into the wall. It didn’t work.
“I see your models arrived,” he said as he approached then lowered his head to my ear. “Did something happen? Is everything ok?”
The dam burst. “They’re too skinny,” I said then covered my face with my hands.
“Yes well, they’re models. Someone thinks they should look like the walking dead. You knew they’d be thin. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”
“Everything! My designs are ruined. I’ll have to start over. I can use my sketches but I have two days to make everything over again.”
“You can’t use what you have?”
I shook my head. Just by looking at them I could tell all my samples were a waste. Every detail, from the ruching to the draping would have to be completely redone. My samples were worthless now. With that amount of work, it would be easier to start from scratch. The biggest problem was I didn’t have time. It was close to impossible to recreate all of my designs in less than two days.
Will stormed off without a word and barked something at one of the models that sent her running in tears. While he glared at her abandoned friend, she said something to him before she also left.
In a blink an elegant older woman with ‘Mimi’ on the access pass hanging around her neck, entered and began talking to Will. Based on the way she carried herself, she might have been a model back in the day. Will’s voice boomed throughout the room as he spoke, this time in French. I wasn’t sure if I should be worried or impressed that he could yell in another language.
With her face red, she barked something at the eight remaining models and they began filing out into the hall. With a quick turn on her heel she exited the room and my dream went from impossible to nonexistent. The sickly toothpick models were bad, but no models were worse. How would my collection go down the runway without them?
Not wanting to be there any longer than I needed to be, I started packing up. Will spoke in hushed angry tones to Stewart before coming back to me.
“What are you doing?” he asked
“What’s it look like? I’m packing.”
“Don’t.”
He crossed the room and exited. I hated feeling like such a wuss and knew some of it was from the lack of sleep, but all I wanted to do was feel sorry for myself. Poor me! I made my dream come true and was standing at Paris Fashion Week. Yeah, that pity party didn’t last long.
My mind started to work and I wondered how many women walking around the mall on the other level would walk down the runway for me. It couldn’t hurt to ask.
“Let’s go find some models, Dianna.”
As we entered the hall, Mimi walked towards us with Will by her side. She reached out and held my hand between her cold bony hands as she spoke with a thick French accent.
“There was a horrible mistake. Gianni was supposed to be in this room, but he changed last minute. I’ve sent the girls to him and yours should arrive soon.”
She patted my hand when she finished talking and then shot Will an annoyed look before walking off. Dianna and I went back into the Hargrove’s room and as I unpacked the few things I put away, my new models entered.
Now these were the real Amazons. My new models didn’t look like they’d need to seek shelter on a windy day. They were as close to being normal women as one would find on the runway. These were the models used in plus sized ads, and while that made them controversial for runway, I couldn’t be happier seeing them.
Breathing a sigh of relief I held myself back from hugging Will, not wanting to reveal our relationship to all the strangers in the room. Dianna immediately got to work taking measurements and taking a photo of each model. She came up with the idea that if we planned hair and make up ahead of time, it would take the stress out of choosing their look after they were dressed. I loved the idea and couldn’t wait until later when I’d play paper dolls with their photos.
As I pulled the measuring tape out of my sewing case, Will came up behind me and kissed my neck sending goosebumps over my body. So much for not revealing our relationship. Truth was I didn’t care anymore. People could say what they wanted. My designs deserved to be there.
“Mmm you smell like oranges. Let’s get out of here, just the two of us,” he whispered before nibbling my ear.
“We can’t. I have a lot of work to get started on and you know Stewart won’t let you out of his sight.”
“Look at Stewart. I think he’s in love.”
I scanned the crowded room a couple of times looking for him. He had an uncanny way of changing his appearance just with his body language and for a brief moment I didn’t recognize him. It wasn’t until I realized Stewart was the man commanding the attention of two brunette models, that I realized where he was.
“So? He’s still not going to let you go alone.”
“He doesn’t need to know I’m going. I arranged for a 1959 BMW 507 to be delivered. Its a roadster, a two-seater. It’s probably already outside. We can sneak out and tour the countryside.”
“I’d love to Will, really I would, but I need to be here. I can’t just leave all this on Dianna.”
“She won’t mind. Look at her, she’s loving this. Just ask her, ok? That’s all I ask.”
Dianna was busy taking measurements on a blonde model I recognized from a Vogue photo spread. I motioned to her that I wanted to talk and then stayed out of her way until she was done. She grinned happily as she walked over.
“Do you have any idea how awesome this is?” She asked. “Of course you do, you’re
here too duh. I’m just so starstruck right now you have no idea.”
“I know! Did you see some of the designers here? Its mind blowing to think I’m showing my collection on the same runway.”
“You know,” she said as she glanced over to Will, “if you want to go sightseeing with Mr. Sexy you can.”
“Where’d that come from?”
“I’m just saying that if the gorgeous man of my dreams was in the most romantic city in the world with me, I’d want to spend some quality time with him.”
“I can’t, Dianna. I can’t leave you here alone to work while I run off and have fun. Its not right.”
“No, you have to. I’ll never have an experience like this again and I know you will. While you’re gone, I’m not going to lie, I’m pretending its my collection,” she said as she laughed. “Plus, I need to live vicariously through you, remember? If you don’t spend some alone time with Will, then I won’t have anything to dream about. I will be expecting details in the morning when we get to work on the alterations and everything else.”
“Are you sure? I really do feel bad…”
“Go! We’re done talking about it. I have models to measure dahling, now shoo!” She said with a snooty fake accent.
Dianna gently pushed me away as I wondered what I did to deserve such a great friend. Will looked at me anxiously as I returned.
“Well? What did she say?”
“She told me to go. And Stewart?”
“Smitten. Nice to see him enjoying himself for once. Now lets go before we lose our chance.”
He grabbed my hand and led me to the back of the room. Behind the three way mirror was a door I hadn’t noticed before. It opened to a long marble hallway that we followed until we reached the entrance with the crystal triangle.
“Good, I see the car arrived,” Will said as he looked ahead towards the antique shiny red roadster.
“And what’s so special about this car?” I asked as we approached it.
“Everything. Limited run, almost made BMW go bankrupt, Elvis owned one, I could go on and on.”
The convertible was gorgeous and didn’t look its age, but until I noticed Will couldn’t stop grinning as he got into the car, I didn’t realize the significance of it. He never had his own car before. For his entire life Stewart had driven him wherever he needed to go.
“Where are we going?”
“Remember the gate in front of King Manor?”
“The one your mom told you stories about?”
“That one. I found the monastery and I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“Then lets go!”
As Will steered the car out of the city, I enjoyed the warm sunshine and the wind blowing through my hair. We drove out of the city in silence as we soaked in the beauty of the city. The architecture was a combination of the old, with Greek and Gothic influences, with the new. Somehow the city joined old and new together like a complex jazz piece with all the instruments working together to create music.
The further away from Paris, the more open the landscape was. Eventually we were surrounded by green rolling hills that reminded me of the landscape of Canyon Cove. If it wasn’t for the occasional spire of a centuries old church or the cut of a castle against the sky, the two places might have been interchangeable.
After about an hour into the drive, Will reached for his folded suit jacket and pulled a folded map out of the inside pocket and placed it on my lap.
“I need your help. We should be right around here,” he said as he tapped a yellow section of the map. “I circled the monastery in red, let me know where I need to turn. I think it’s coming up and I was told it’s hard to spot from the road.”
As I collected my bearings looking at the map, I found the turn off he was talking about and placed my finger on it. “Wait, you asked about the monastery? Don’t you think Stewart will find out? Knowing him, he’ll be there waiting for us.”
Will laughed. “No, he’s not going to care.”
“I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking about. He seems very concerned about you being in danger.”
Will’s knuckles whitened on his hand that rested on the shifter while his face grimaced. Thinking I struck a nerve, I dropped it. Last thing I wanted to do was ruin a day out with him in such a romantic location. My big mouth messed things up enough for one trip.
“The road should be right up here,” I said after spotting a mile marker the map indicated was before the turn.
An old stone carved road marker had the name of our turn and Will slowed down as he maneuvered the car onto the road. The dirt road was packed so tight from centuries of use that we didn’t have to worry about dust flying into the car.
After driving further down the lonely road, the monastery appeared in the distance. The white limestone silhouette of the abbey jutting up into the sky, growing more luminescent as we arrived.
“How did your mom even find this place?”
“She loved history and this is one of the oldest monasteries,” he said as we walked among the ruins. “You can see how the church still stands with its towers, and over there is what’s left of the cloisters and the library. The original building is well over a thousand years old, but was destroyed first by the Vikings, then later in wars after being rebuilt each time.”
The abbey was the largest of the ruins and still impressive. It looked like a medieval castle and I could easily imagine monks from centuries ago praying there. Following the path, we came upon two pylons on either side of where the path widened.
“This must’ve been where the gate was,” he said as he walked over to one of the stone columns and placed his hand on it.
His face softened and briefly crumpled and I knew he was thinking back on his brief childhood. It hurt to see how close to the surface those memories remained.
Hearing a sound come from the abbey, I turned around but saw nothing. Probably just an animal, I thought. As I looked up into Will’s face, his eyes brightened, and he wrapped his arms around me.
“Thank you for coming here with me. You have no idea what this means to me,” he said before kissing my forehead.
“Of course. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”
“Well isn’t this sweet,” a male voice with a thick Eastern European accent echoed against the ruins. “Come out, Marco. It’s him.”
As I turned around I saw another man approaching from one of the other ruins. Marco was a monster of a man in a painted on black t-shirt and bald head. The man who spoke looked exactly the same except for his crooked nose which must have been busted years ago. Will tightened his grip on me as they came closer, but it didn’t matter.
Marco grabbed my arm and roughly pulled me out of Will’s grasp while the man who spoke lifted a gun to Will’s head. I couldn’t breathe. I considered screaming, but knew there was no one around to help. As I trembled in fear, Marco squeezed his thickly muscled arm like a boa constrictor around me further as if to tell me I was in more danger than I realized.
“Oscar, what to do with the girl? Kill her now, yes? That will be fun,” Marco said with a cheerfulness in his voice that sent chills down my spine.
“No, no. We bring her to Dimitri too. She might be useful. In the least she might be helpful in making this one talk.”
“We only have one injection.”
“Use it on her,” Oscar said then slammed the blunt end of the gun into Will’s temple.
“No! Will!” I screamed as his body collapsed to the ground. I felt a sharp prick at the base of my neck. My body went limp as I fought him. Using all my might, I tried to shove his enormous arm off me, but my limbs wouldn’t move. Suddenly my vision blurred and Marco slung me over his shoulder. Hanging like a rag doll, everything spun before going black.
Chapter Sixteen
Will
Slowly lifting my head off my chest, I tried focusing my eyes. Seated on a wooden chair with my arms tied behind me, I closed my eyes and tried to push past the throbbing in
my head.
I wasn’t alone. Voices spilled into the room, bouncing off the stone walls moist with condensation. The grey flagstone floor chilled my bare feet as I wondered why they took me and where I was.
“Deborah?” I whispered, hoping she was close.
I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to her. Inhaling deeply I caught the faint whiff of oranges. She had to be near.
I tried to move my arms, pushing against the ropes to loosen them, but nothing came of it other than my realizing my arms were tied to more than just my chair. Moving and stretching my hands as much as I could, I finally felt the soft flesh of her hand with my fingertips.
“Will…” she whispered, her words slurring, “please be you.”
“Yes, its me.”
“They drugged me…I…I…”
“Shhh, don’t speak. I’ll get us out of here somehow.”
The only light in the windowless room came from a single bulb dangling from the ceiling. Voices echoed against the stone from an adjoining room. Forcing myself to focus despite the pain in my head, I was able to make out a long metal table and a few chairs.
Attempting to use my legs as leverage, I realized my ankles were tied to the chair. Pushing with my feet our chairs scraped along the stone floor. Not wanting to draw attention, I stopped as my mind spun.
It was useless to struggle. Whoever these men were wanted us there. They knew what they were doing. Hearing a soft sob behind me, I flexed and struggled against the ropes to get enough leeway to reach her hand which quickly closed around mine.
“What’s going on? Who are these people?” She cried, her voice filled with fear.
“I wish I knew,” I said as a tall, thick bodied silhouette filled the doorway.
A man in a tight black t-shirt and shaved head nodded towards us. “Dimitri, they’re up.” He announced with a thick indescribable accent.
“Its about time. I was worried you killed another one too soon with that stuff,” Dimitri joked.
Dimitri’s accent was American but there was somewhere else underneath it. As he stepped towards the light I was surprised to see he was a slender built man with closely cropped black hair. His looks weren’t remarkable or startling like his companions. Dimitri could easily blend in with a crowd. In a lot of ways he reminded me of Stewart.