Ginny’s mom eventually came around, and she was a wonderful grandmother. Brooklyn could never thank Ginny enough for all she’d sacrificed to raise her and give her a life with opportunities. Brooklyn couldn’t ask for a better mom.
Now, thanks to her, Gage Monahan had come into her life. She knew he was here to protect her against an unknown threat, but there was natural chemistry between them. When he wasn’t around, she found her mind drifting to him, wondering what he was doing. When they were together, it was all she could do to think at all. He sucked the air from the room and thoughts from her head until he was her entire focus.
That wasn’t good. She was in the midst of the most critical point of her new career. She didn’t have time for things like romantic feelings. The show and her clothing line needed to take up her entire focus. Maybe down the line, when her dresses were a hit and she was basking in the glow of a successful show, she’d have time to explore whatever it was between them. In the meantime, she needed to tend to her business and ignore her suddenly raging hormones.
Stella skidded inside the office, her breath sawing in and out as if she’d just ran a marathon. Sadly, Stella was a smoker, so she probably hadn’t gone thirty feet.
“Brooklyn, I just got a call from Shoshana Emery’s husband. You’ll never believe this. She was murdered yesterday.”
Brooklyn sat down hard in her chair. She’d known Shoshana for years and trusted her knowledge. She was one of the first people Brooklyn called when she launched the show, and she’d been so excited, adding her ideas and expertise.
Gage had been working on his computer, but he came forward when Stella broke the news. “Who’s Shoshana?”
“She’s in charge of wardrobe for the show,” Stella told him.
“What happened?”
“She went running in Central Park and was stabbed to death. The police think it was a mugging because her cell phone and watch were missing.”
Brooklyn felt sick. She prayed Shoshana hadn’t suffered. “Did they catch the person responsible?”
“Not yet.”
“I’m going to make some calls,” Gage said as he retreated to the conference table with his phone.
As much as she needed to mourn her friend, it left a gaping hole in their show schedule. Shoshana was responsible for everything related to wardrobe and overseeing the dressing of the models. She was in a small circle of people Brooklyn trusted implicitly and had been a part of the group who came up with the themes of each shoot. They’d gone over what they wanted the models to wear. Most of the designs came from Shoshana and her years of expertise. Brooklyn loved her costume ideas. Shoshana had already picked all the clothing and accessories. Four assistants were sorting them and getting them ready to be shipped to Fontana Island now.
“I know it seems cold since she just died, but do you want me to find someone else to take over her job?” Stella asked pensively.
It would be hard to hire someone on short notice. Filming began in less than a week. “Is Beatriz Pace in the building?”
Stella consulted her iPad. “I think so.”
Though she didn’t know the woman outside of runway shows, she trusted her. Brooklyn had worked with Beatriz on several occasions, and she was magic with a needle and thread. She’d suggested her to Shoshana, and she’d hired her based on Brooklyn’s recommendation and Beatriz’s experience. “Ask her to come to my office. I’ll see if she wants the job before we open it up. Then we need to inform the other women.”
“On it,” Stella said as she quickly departed.
Shoshana would be deeply missed from Brooklyn’s trusted circle of confidants. She’d learned over the years to treat everyone with respect but to trust few. Too many people wanted to see others fail.
Ten minutes later, a knock sounded on her door.
“Come in.”
“Hi, Brooklyn.” Beatriz stuck her head inside. “Stella said you wanted to see me?”
“Yes, come in, Beatriz.”
“What do you need?”
“I have some bad news. Shoshana Emery passed away last night.”
Beatriz gasped and covered her mouth as tears shimmered in her eyes. “No. What happened?”
“She was killed in Central Park.”
Beatriz stumbled to a chair and dropped down. “I didn’t know her well, but she was so nice to me. I just spoke with her yesterday afternoon. I had a question about some items for one of the shoots.” Tears streamed down her face. “I can’t believe it.”
“Me either.” Brooklyn forced her own tears back. “With the show being so close, we can’t hire someone and get them up to speed in time. I would like to offer you the position of lead wardrobe stylist.”
Beatriz slammed against the back of her chair and covered her heart with her hand. “You want me to do the job? I’ve never run the show before.”
“I realize that, but I’ve seen you in action, and I have faith that you can handle it. Shoshana has detailed notes and photos that should help you. The outfits have already been selected and ordered. Your primary responsibility will be to make sure the outfits coordinate with the correct shoot.” She named a salary below what Shoshana earned but more than Beatriz’s current pay.
Beatriz thought about it for a moment. “Then yes, I accept.”
“I’ll call Penny in accounting to let her know so she can draw up a contract.”
“I feel guilty for being excited after Shoshana was brutally murdered.”
Brooklyn stood. “I need to let the other wardrobe assistants know what happened.”
They entered the room where three women were busy packing the items and labeling the boxes. She delivered the bad news, fighting tears again.
Chapter Seven
It was hard to get work done when people were constantly streaming through Brooklyn’s office. Though Gage planned on digging into the backgrounds of potential suspects, he wanted to watch the dynamics of the people Brooklyn interacted with on a daily basis. Someone close to her might be trying to sabotage her business. He liked the twins for it, but he wasn’t sure they could pull off canceling the special guests. That reeked of an inside job.
He’d talked to a detective with the NYPD, but he had little information on Shoshana Emery’s death. Another jogger found her inside one of the arches that resembled small tunnels in Central Park. The police had no suspects or leads.
It seemed highly suspicious that she was connected to Brooklyn, and she’d been murdered. If the same person were trying to disrupt the show, they’d upped their game exponentially to murder, possibly for the second time counting the poisoned dress.
He could tell Brooklyn was hurting at the loss of her friend. He wanted to go to her and just hold her. Take away her pain. He had to remind himself constantly that he was her boyfriend in name only.
Tonya came rushing inside, her eyes wide and panicked. “Brooklyn, Ms. Graves is here to see you, and she won’t take no for—”
“Hello, Brooklyn.”
A tall woman breezed inside, followed by a man holding a video camera on his shoulder. She was undeniably beautiful, with dark brown eyes and short black hair in a pageboy style.
“Carol,” Brooklyn greeted. “What are you doing here?”
So, this was the infamous Carol Graves. Gage sat up straighter. She had every reason to want Brooklyn to fail.
“I came to let you know I’m producing my own model search show. I won’t let you get away with stealing my idea.”
Brooklyn sighed. “You seriously don’t want to rehash this, do you? I did not steal your idea, Carol. The courts agreed. I’m busy, so I’m going to ask you to leave politely.”
“My show will be so much better than yours,” Carol boasted, completely ignoring Brooklyn’s request. “I’ll have bigger celebrities on board, too. I mean, Vito Wolski?” She scoffed. “Please.”
Brooklyn’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know Vito was a part of my show?”
She thrust a hand onto her hip. “Honey, it’s
a small community. Word gets around. I’ve been around the business longer, and I know more people than you could ever hope to meet. Believe me, they’re all on my side.”
“Well, good for you, Carol. I wish you luck. You do your thing, and I’ll do mine. As I said earlier, I’m swamped, so please leave.”
Gage gritted his teeth. His first impulse was to march forward, rip the camera from the man’s shoulder, and smash it on the ground. But Brooklyn was doing a fabulous job. She looked calm and composed against Carol’s bullying invasion. Though he wanted to help, she didn’t need him to rescue her.
“Trying to get rid of me, Brooklyn?” Carol looked directly into the camera. “See, America, she’s not the sweet, caring woman she pretends to be. She stole my idea and is trying to get away with it, but I won’t let her. She’ll be sorry she messed with me.”
Gage had heard enough. Brooklyn was overloaded with work and grieving for her deceased friend. She didn’t need this woman coming in and causing undue stress. He stood and marched forward. “It’s time for you to leave.”
Carol and the cameraman swung around to him. Carol’s brows lifted with interest. “Who are you?” She looked him up and down, and it was apparent she liked what she saw.
“I’m the person asking you to leave the premises peacefully. If not, I will have you removed.”
Carol threw back her head and laughed. “There’s no need to get snippy, Handsome. I have done nothing but visit my friend Brooklyn.”
The same guards who removed Austin and Abilene entered the office. Tonya wasn’t much of a gatekeeper, but at least she knew when to call security.
“We’re going to have to ask you to leave, ma’am,” Ed said.
“I’ll go,” she readily agreed as her sidekick swung his camera around the room. “But this isn’t over. It’s my idea, Brooklyn. You might as well stop now before it’s too late.”
Gage stepped into her path, blocking her from exiting. “What’s that supposed to mean? Is that a threat?”
She widened her eyes in innocence. “All I meant is that I’m taking control of my concept by any means possible. Do with that what you will.” She flicked her head, her black hair swinging with the movement as she maneuvered around him and sauntered out of the office. The two guards followed to make sure they left.
Brooklyn watched her leave before turning to him. “Do you think she’s guilty?”
“Possibly. We need to keep an eye out for her. She has means and motive.”
Gage returned to his laptop while Brooklyn answered her ringing phone. The rest of the day passed quickly, and before he knew it, it was time to shower and change so Brooklyn could greet the contestants.
If possible, she looked more beautiful each time he saw her. Tonight, she wore a gold dress that made her skin glow. He escorted her to the ballroom, where the thirty hopeful contestants eagerly waited. Brooklyn was fitted with a wireless microphone. It took some work to attach the belt pack transmitter beneath her gown, and Gage’s jaw clenched at the man who was doing the job. He left the room where she would wait until her name was announced to the women before he did something stupid, like ripping the man’s arms off and beating him with them for touching her.
He made his way to the ballroom to watch. The girls were sitting at round tables, chatting animatedly. The noise level was elevated as their voices rose to be heard over the soft music wafting from speakers high on the wall.
The women were a diverse mixture of ethnicities. Though he knew the minimum age was eighteen, some didn’t look old enough to drive. Man, he was getting old.
The music stopped, and Jax appeared with Kaycee Norwood, one of the judges, to raucous cheering from the women. They introduced themselves and gave a brief welcome message before announcing Brooklyn. She stepped out with a broad smile, and the girls surged to their feet, flailing their arms and screaming like she was a rock star. He guessed she was in their world.
#
Olathe Lovett couldn’t believe she was in New York City, about to compete for a chance to become a model. Her parents had been worried about her trying out for the show, but modeling had been her dream since she was a little girl. Her shimásání, or maternal grandmother, had sewn clothes for her to parade around in when she was younger. She’d perfected her runway walk when she was seven. When she read about the chance to compete to represent Brooklyn Fontana’s new dress line, she’d been ecstatic. She’d applied, never dreaming she would be selected. The entire experience was beyond exciting, and just getting to meet Brooklyn was the highlight of the trip.
A woman slid into the empty chair beside her. “Can I tell you that you’re one of the most beautiful women here?”
Olathe turned to the pretty redhead. “Thank you. You, too. I love your hair.”
The woman fingered her fiery locks with distaste. “I’ve always hated the color. Kids called me matchstick or carrot top or ginger.” She sighed. “I was always embarrassed and wore many hats to disguise it.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be ashamed. You’re stunning. And you have the best figure.”
The woman wrinkled her nose. “Too many freckles for my taste. I’m Jessie Park.”
“Olathe Lovett. Where are you from?”
“Green Bay, Wisconsin. What about you?”
“Window Rock, Arizona.”
“You have the most gorgeous hair. It’s so shiny and long. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you Native American?”
“I don’t mind, and yes. I’m proud of my Navajo heritage.”
“Have you been to New York before?”
Olathe shook her head. “First time.”
“Me, too. I’m so excited to see the sights. I straight up squealed like a stuck pig when I saw the Empire State Building.”
Olathe laughed. “I did, too.”
A hush fell over the crowd as the music stopped and lights snapped on, highlighting the stage. A man and woman appeared, and Olathe clapped with the others. She recognized Kaycee Norwood. She was a former supermodel like Brooklyn. From the information she’d been sent on the show, she assumed the man was Jackson Joiner. It was confirmed a minute later when they introduced themselves. They spoke for a few minutes before announcing Brooklyn. Olathe’s heartbeat picked up speed. She couldn’t wait to meet her idol.
#
“I love you, Brooklyn!”
“You’re so gorgeous!”
“Oh my gosh, she’s really here!”
Brooklyn waved and waited patiently for the crowd to calm down. She spotted Gage standing off to the side, and he looked so handsome, she almost forgot what she planned on saying. Tearing her gaze away, she focused on the women. So many eager faces. It was exciting to witness their enthusiasm.
It would’ve been nice to have had more time to transform the girls into models, but the network wanted a nine-day taping, so she adapted. It was challenging to condense years of learning, trial, and error into less than ten days. When she’d envisioned the concept for the show, it would last weeks, and the girls would learn from several industry insiders. Instead, she had to settle for quick lessons over the course of a few days.
“Welcome, everyone. I’m so happy you’re here for the inaugural season of Supermodel Search. You are the thirty contestants handpicked from thousands of entries around the country. If you’re here right now, it’s because I saw something in you that made me believe you could be successful in this business. I’ve been modeling since I was fifteen, so I’ve been around the industry long enough to know what works and what doesn’t.”
She paused as the women applauded.
“There are several types of models, including fitness, swimsuit and lingerie, parts like hands or feet, and promotional models found at trade shows or other live events. Editorial modeling focuses primarily on print for photography and advertising, while commercial focuses on film and advertisement, emphasizing camera presence and personality. Many celebrities fall into this category because they can influence the audience. Runwa
y modeling is how it sounds. It focuses strictly on fashion shows with the ability to rock a garment as you strut the catwalk. You could fall into one type, two, or like most supermodels, several.”
She studied the women as she spoke. They were focused entirely on her.
“As you know, only ten contestants will be selected to compete on Supermodel Search. Those chosen will be provided with a detailed schedule, but I’ll give you a brief rundown. We have less than two weeks to mold you into models and provide you with as many resources as possible to pave the way to success in the industry. You’ll be bombarded with information each day, so be prepared to learn.”
“And be ready to work hard,” Kaycee added.
“The show will be filmed on Fontana Island Monday through Friday, and we’ll return to New York over the weekend. We’ll narrow it down to two finalists by the next Wednesday. Those two will walk the runway with several top supermodels on Thursday to debut my clothing line. The winner will be announced after the show.” More cheers.
“The show will air in approximately two months. Audience voting is an important part, but ultimately the judges will decide who stays and who goes home.”
She moved across the room. “We have several prizes for the winner, including a modeling contract with Hurst Entertainment, a commercial for Flawless Face, and an ad campaign for Watson Jewelry. The woman we select will also be the first model to showcase my new line of dresses.” The women stood, about to shout in joy, but before they could interrupt, she added, “That’s not all. The winner will also be featured on a billboard modeling my dresses in Times Square and awarded a one hundred-thousand-dollar cash prize provided by Watson Jewelry.”
The women gasped, screamed, and waved their hands like Brooklyn would pick them to win right now. Once they settled, she continued. “I said that audience voting is important, and it is. When the show airs, the viewers will select the fan favorite. It could be the person the judges deem the winner or the first person eliminated. All ten will be eligible. That woman will receive twenty-five thousand dollars provided by Watson Jewelry.”
Dressed to Kill (COBRA Securities Book 22) Page 7