Page 110 of Silent Comrade
The backstage area had been partitioned offfor each collection’s models to prepare. Even with the separatespaces, there was a carnival atmosphere throughout. Even a portlyand hunched custodian in the corner seemed to get into the spirit,smiling and sweeping in time to the music piped in from the mainstage.
“Nothing’s up.” Fingering the hoop in herear, she sighed. “Tired. Nervous. Jittery. Glad this is almostover.” She darted another glance over her shoulder. Models milledaround, student hair and makeup artists touched up the models, anddesigners flitted around, nervous energy feeding on itself withchatter increasing in pitch and volume.
“I think it’s more than ‘nothing.’ First ofall, we’ve got your back. He put an arm around her and followedBritt’s gaze to the models who stood in a circle around a preeningRodeo. “Second of all, you are a beautiful woman, inside and out.Even more important, you created this collection. None of us coulddo that. None of these other designers, either.” His eyebrows rose.“Your collection is on point!”
The corners of her mouth lifted. “I know,but…”
“You have something to fear from these otherlovely ladies? Or from the other designers?”
Hesitantly, she drifted a fingertip over hercrystal-adorned glam faux-hawk and said, “No.”
Gonzo met her gaze in the mirror with afrown. “Oh, you think a certain someone will want these women overyou?”
Too close to the truth. “Moot point,Gonzo.”
“I disagree.”
“Doesn’t matter. As soon as this show ends,I need to disappear. Alone. That’s for the best, consideringeverything.”
“The best what?”
“His job. My future. His safety. My family.The virus.” She held up a hand and turned her back on the mirror.Gonzo dropped his arm to the side as he propped a hip on the tableedge. “Doesn’t matter. He’s not here.” Shaking her head to clearit, she asked, “Is everything else ready on your end?”
Gonzo peered out over her head to visuallysweep the backstage area. “Your male models are packingconsiderable heat. Some of our planted audience members as well.Stumpy’s got visuals and communication in place. Rivera won’t leaveyour father’s side. We’re ready for anything.”
She shivered. “As long as no one getshurt.”
“We’ll take care of safety.” He went fromvigilant soldier to a cute guy with a dimpled smile. “And you, gopresent the best fashion collection any student has everproduced.”
“How are you so good at fashion?”
“What? Surprised? Because I was SpecialForces? Army? Expected to be macho?”
She laughed. “It’s unexpected, is all.”
“I helped raise my youngerhermanas.We poured over fashion magazines and never missedAmerica’s NextTop Model. That Tyra and Jay Alexander, they gave goodpointers.”
“Well. Your expertise is my advantage!”
She glanced at the clock on the wall.Forty-five minutes until everyone would line up, first collectionto last, followed by another walk at the end where each designertraveled the catwalk with one of their models at their side. Hermodel was supposed to be Red. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
“It’s nothing.” He turned and waved at Kim,the tall, laughing honey-blonde standing next to Tachi. “If you’llexcuse me, I need to do some networking. To maintain my cover, ofcourse.”
“Ha.”
He sauntered over to the group. Britt wasall but forgotten.
Almost.
Jenna, her blonde hair pulled into a tightFrench roll updo with gold lame flecks on her face and neck,strolled by. “Still going to try and do a last-minute show?” sheasked. For such a pretty woman, when she opened her mouth, shebecame ugly.
“Of course. You inspired me to try adifferent idea. And wow, is it going to be fabulous.”
Jenna tilted her chin, looking down hernose. “Looks kind of work-casual to me. So last years’collections.” She fake-yawned. “I mean, it’s good if you’retargeting Target or DressBarn. It’s important that all walks oflife have accessible fashion. Not everyone can afford luxe items.”Patting her gold shift, she smiled.
That outfit seemed like gold overkill, butBritt recognized that she had no objectivity where Jenna wasconcerned. Instead, she bit her tongue. “I’m betting on my vision.”She hoped. Untested clothing patterns and materials. Untestedmodels. Untested fashion designer. Death threats. What couldpossibly go wrong?
What she meant to think was, how manydifferent wayscouldit go wrong?
