Fashion Faux Paw (11 page)

She blew out a breath. So much for her boy obeying orders, though she had to agree. This was her gig. She’d been told by Jeffery that she had the final say on anything to do with the dogs, and NMD trusted her completely. She’d already been paid her exorbitant fee, so it was too late to fire her. Besides that, she doubted they’d find someone to take over her job at this late date.

Feeling empowered by her thoughts, she took a seat and opened one of the fashion magazines she’d left on the snack table. A moment later, when she glanced at the floor, she saw shoes with spats and let her gaze wander upward.

“Can I help you?” she asked politely.

Mr. Fettel pulled his shoulders back. “What you can do is cooperate, young lady. I’ve been thrown into a position with which I’m uncomfortable, so please don’t take advantage of me.”

“Aw, he’s askin’ so nice,”
said Rudy, snorting.

She closed the magazine. “I’m sorry you’re in an unappealing position right now, and here in the canine area we’re very understanding. Tell me what you need and I’ll try to comply.”

He crossed his arms and let them rest on his paunch. “That’s a little more like it.”

“Hey, don’t let him talk to you like that.”

Biting back a snarky response, she smiled. “If you’d just get to your point . . .”

“May I sit down?”

Ellie set the magazine on the middle chair to make certain they’d be a few feet apart.

He took the far chair and straightened his tie. “We have a problem, and I’m hoping you can help.”

“A problem?”

“It’s about one of the models.”

“One of the NMD models?”

“Yes. And I was hoping you could shed some light on the issue.”

He wanted her help? Well, he certainly had an odd way of showing it. “I was hired to care for the dogs, Mr. Fettel. I don’t have a thing to do with the models.”

“I’m aware of that, but you were the only person I could think to ask.” He cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind.”

Great. She’d always wanted to be someone’s last choice. “I’m listening,” she said instead.

“It’s about Cassandra and her dog.”

Ellie had figured as much.

“He has to be replaced.”

She heaved a sigh. “I’m sure Cassandra knows someone who’d be happy to let her borrow their dog. Especially since the dog would be featured in an event of this magnitude.”

“I’ve suggested as much, but she isn’t willing to cooperate.” He pulled a handkerchief from inside his jacket and dabbed at the sweat beading his forehead. “Her uncooperative attitude is quite disturbing.”

“I don’t think she’s being uncooperative, exactly. She’s still in mourning.”

“Mourning?” His stern expression didn’t change. “Who died?”

“Her other dog, a Yorkie, if I understood her correctly.” And why not? Losing a four-legged buddy was like losing a dear friend or a member of your family. “She’s convinced Ranger is the perfect dog to take his place, and she doesn’t want to let him go.”

“Ranger?” Fettel looked confused. “Who is Ranger?”

Was this guy for real? “Ranger is the Greyhound we’ve been discussing. She rescued him after the Yorkie died, and they’ve formed a bond.”

“But—but that’s ridiculous. She lost a dog, not a parent or sibling.” He swiped the hankie over his upper lip. “No one to be depressed about.”

Ellie’s patience was all but gone. “That might be your take on losing a dog, but it’s not Cassandra’s, and I completely understand. Anyone who loves their four-legged friend loses a bit of themselves when that pet dies. They grieve, just like they would if it were a human.”

He opened and closed his mouth, as if unable to form the words. Then he shook his balding head. “But we have a contract.”

“I understand that, too.” She hated to see Cassandra burned, but . . . “I gather you already reminded her that she can be replaced.”

“Of course, but she pulled a fast one. Didn’t bring him on the first day, and by the time we found out . . . well, it was too late.”

Cassandra had told her the same thing, so she knew he was correct. “I’m not aware of anyone who has a canine we can borrow. And even then, you need to find a dog that Cassandra would accept as her Yorkie’s replacement.”

“What about these dogs?” He gestured toward the pen. “There are eight models, but ten animals. Who owns the extras?”

Ellie nodded at Rudy, who was sitting at attention and following the conversation. “The small gray and white dog is mine, and the mini Schnauzer was Lilah Perry’s. Another model is taking care of him until Ms. Perry’s family can be contacted.”

“That little one is yours?” He narrowed his eyes. “Hmm, I see.” He studied her boy for a half minute. “Is he a purebred?”

She grinned. “Rudy is all pound puppy, but they’re the best. He’s smart, playful, obeys commands—”

“Hey, I wouldn’t go that far.”

Fettel stood. “Then it’s settled.”

Rudy cocked his head.
“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.”

“Settled?” asked Ellie.

“I’m giving Ms. McQuagge an ultimatum. Either she uses your dog, or she’s off the show.”

Chapter 6

Ellie peeked around the curtain shading the near side of the stage about five minutes before the second competition began. The showroom was so crowded many of the attendees had to stand along the perimeter, fighting for space with members of the pushy press. And the press didn’t care if they were in the way. All they wanted were photos or quotes from the big shots of the fashion world.

She knew from yesterday’s contest debut that Nola Morgan Design drew important names, but the number of people attending this second review had doubled, maybe tripled in size. It was, of course, because of Lilah Perry’s demise that so many people were in attendance. Though they would never admit it, she had a suspicion they’d come on the off chance there might be another murder.

She watched as the paparazzi snapped photos of anyone who appeared important. Two women sitting to the right side in the front row had to be on the A list, because the press hovered over them like flies on honey, but Ellie had no idea who they were. She had better luck recognizing Heidi Klum, Tim Gunn, Mondo Guerra, and a bevy of past
Project Runway
contestants, mainly because Rudy had forced her to watch the show’s reruns after she told him about this job.

And Viv had coached her, too, encouraging her to read the weekly Style section in the
New York Times
and check out the daily advertisements for additions to the latest collections from Dolce & Gabbana, Lagerfeld, Marc Jacobs, Michael Kors, and all the other famous designers with a new line.

“See anyone interesting out there?”

Jumping, Ellie spun around and faced a grinning Marcus David. After heaving a breath, she said, “Sneak up on a person, why don’t you?”

His smile widened. “Sorry, but I couldn’t resist. You looked like a kid peeking down the stairs to spy on Santa Claus or maybe the Easter Bunny.”

“I’m just scanning the crowd in hope of recognizing someone. My best friend is a fashion addict, and she’ll expect me to name names next time we talk. Unfortunately, aside from the popular reality show participants, I don’t know a single person out there.”

He moved next to her, took stock of the crowd, and gave a low whistle. “Wow. The place is definitely filled with movers and shakers.”

Pulling the curtain aside, she cocked her head. “Who?”

Marcus nodded. “See those two women in the center of the front row, right side of the catwalk?”

“I figured they were somebodies, but I can’t place them.”

“Trust me, if you were in this business you’d be in awe. The one on the left is Anna Wintour, editor in chief of American
Vogue.
Meryl Streep portrayed her in
The Devil Wears Prada.
And to her right is Grace Coddington, their creative director. Word is they don’t both cover an event unless it’s the biggest of the big.” He ran a hand over his chin. “Seeing them out there makes me more nervous than I was yesterday.”

Ellie gave his arm a playful punch. If she remembered correctly, Marcus had yet to act nervous about anything. “Oh, come on. A big boy like you, afraid of a couple of magazine editors?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets. “They’re not just magazine editors, they are
the
editors. And guess who’s sitting across from them.”

She spotted a well-dressed man and woman chatting with each other while they nodded at members of the crowd. Ellie hid a smile when she realized they reminded her of a king and queen. “I haven’t a clue.”

“Glenda Bailey of
Harper’s
and Stefano Tonchi, the managing editor of
W.
With them here, this competition could only get hotter if you poured on the gasoline and lit a match.”

She recalled Vivian mentioning their names, but never thought she’d actually see these gods of fashion in person. “And since their seats are front and center, I imagine whoever is running this event sat them there as a tribute to their importance in the industry.”

“
W
is the most influential fashion magazine in the world today, so more than likely Jeffery King took care of it, though I’m sure he got his orders from someone at the top of NMD,” Marcus said, his tone serious.

Ellie had tried her best to get a handle on the hierarchy of the fashion world in the week before the contest. Having Marcus there to explain things made it easier. She only wished he’d been around earlier, when Clark Fettel had been badgering her about Cassandra and Ranger.

“Where have you been, by the way?” She turned to face him. “Hard at work for the evening wear part of the competition?”

He moved so close to her she smelled his cologne, a light outdoorsy scent that made her think of pine trees. “Why? Did you miss me?”

“What? No.” She took a step of retreat. “I’m just trying to figure out where people were when Jeffery King was arrested.”

“Oh, that.” He raised an eyebrow. “I was helping Jeffery referee a disagreement between Anton Rouch and one of his models when the cops showed. But the arrest didn’t take anyone by surprise. The way I see it, King was careless and he got caught, which is probably the way everyone else felt, too.”

“You think he’s guilty?” Miffed that everybody would be so callous, Ellie said, “That’s cruel,” and headed back to the canine area.

Marcus stayed on her heels. “Hey, he had a motive. Lilah stole Kitty’s designs. He was paving the way for his sister. As an older brother, I can understand that.” He grabbed an energy bar from the table and peeled off the wrapper. “I’d do the same if anyone hurt a sister of mine.”

Ellie sat in a chair, and opened a bottle of water. “I didn’t realize you have a sister.”

“I had three.” When he used the past tense, she wanted to ask what happened, but he’d finished his snack and tossed the wrapper in the trash. “Sorry, no more time to talk. They should start calling the lineup in about fifteen minutes, and I have to put the finishing touches on Patti and Claire Smith.”

He took off at a fast clip, waving good-bye as he walked, and Ellie muttered a curse. She’d let time slip away from her. The dogs had to go out and she only had a few minutes to take care of it if she wanted to see the evening wear competition.

After gathering her charges, she searched for her boy. Rudy was smart. He was supposed to stay close and he knew it, but he’d blown a gasket when Clark Fettel declared him the dog to take Ranger’s place. She planned to talk to Cassandra when today’s show finished and remind her that it was her responsibility to find a small dog to sub for the Greyhound, and it shouldn’t be Rudy. She could borrow a canine from a friend, or foster one for the week from a small dog rescue, but she wasn’t automatically welcome to Rudy.

“Okay, guys,” she said to half the pack as she led them out. “Make it quick, so I can watch the show.”

They did as ordered and calmly followed her back inside, where she picked up the remainder of her crew. “Ranger,” she began, hoping to cheer up the sulking Greyhound, “you do understand why you can’t be in the big finale, right?”

He sniffed, then shook his elegant head.
“Uh-huh, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Cassandra is my new mom, and I should be with her while she’s doing her job.”

Ellie smiled at his even tone. Ranger sounded like one of Great Britain’s aristocrats, so different from the little guys she usually walked. “I understand, but we’ll find her a dog she can work with. And don’t worry. She wouldn’t let anyone take your place in her heart.”

She led the second group of canines outside, still wondering about Rudy. If he got in the way of someone who didn’t like dogs . . .

When she returned, she heard the first call for the start of part two of the Nola Morgan Design show.

“Could you bring me to the stage when it’s Cassandra’s turn to walk the ramp? If I can’t be with her, I’d like to see how she looks in full gear,”
Ranger asked politely.

“I’ll try, but it gets tight up at the front. Let me see if I can find my guy.” She scanned the area and, with no sign of him, decided she would find someone to stay with her charges while she began a search. Music blared as a last call went out over the loudspeaker, and she locked gazes with Cheech. “Any idea where my boy is, little buddy?”