Till Death Do Us Bark (38 page)

Two hours later, Ellie finally had the time to study her runner, who was no more than five feet tall and looked to be just out of high school. So far, the diminutive girl had worked her butt off, welcoming models, collecting their dogs, kowtowing to designers, and running errands for whoever needed her. She’d even held a one-sided commentary with Rudy, who had found an out-of-theway spot under the table and made it his own.

In short, she’d been a breath of fresh air in the middle of high-fashion chaos.

Because it was near noon, things had quieted down, so Ellie asked Kitty to sit with her next to the water cooler. “You seem to know everyone,” she said. “Have you worked in this industry long?”

“I’ve been an assistant for the past three years while I studied at Parsons School of Design. My brother Jeff—”

“The man who delivered the baskets?”

“Right. When he finally got his big break with NMD, the company sponsoring this event, I got a break, too. He’s their new Director of Promotions, so he’s my boss.”

The information had Ellie recalculating Kitty’s age. “Do you mind if I ask you another personal question?”

“You want to know how old I am, right?”

Pleased to see that Kitty was smiling, she said, “Sorry. You must get that a lot.”

“At least once a week, and I don’t mind.” When Rudy crawled out from under the table and jumped in her lap, Kitty ruffled his ears. “I mean, I’ll probably be happy that I have this baby face in another twenty years or so.” She ran a hand through her blond hair. “I’ll be twenty-five on my next birthday.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. And Rudy seems to like you, too, which is a good sign, considering he doesn’t cuddle up to just anyone.”

Her yorkiepoo gave a groan of contentment under Kitty’s gentle hand.
“This chick is too much.”

Unaware of Rudy’s positive comment, Kitty said, “Your boy’s a cutie, but I’m into all dogs. What about you?” Then she giggled. “Oh, gosh, that was a totally dumb thing to say. Of course, you are. I mean, you make your living working with dogs, so you must love them, right?”

“Dogs are the center of my life,” Ellie answered, hoping her sincerity showed. “When I rescued Rudy he rescued me, and he’s become my best four-legged friend. I also walk some of the greatest canines in this city. It’s a treat being here with little guys, because they’re my favorite size.”

“Mine, too,” Kitty said, scratching Rudy under his chin. “But my building is a no-go on pets. As soon as my designs make money, I’m going to move to a place that will let me have a dog.” She heaved a sigh, leaned back in her chair, and surveyed the people still rushing past. “We may be here all night, even though the designers are supposed to be finished with their first piece by four. The initial runway walk is scheduled to close the day at five, but it’ll be a miracle if they make it on time.”

Ellie’d been hoping to meet someone besides Patti Fallgrave who had an inside track on the fashion business— someone who could fill her in on industry gossip—and it sounded as if Kitty would be able to do just that. “I guess you know quite a bit about this contest? What it took for the designers to get here and all?”

Kitty glanced at the industry professionals walking around the pen, stopping at the watercooler, grazing the snack table, and interacting with the dogs. “This business is crazy. You’ll meet folks from every walk of life here, all hoping for their big break. Each day is different, and I love it that way.”

Ellie moved closer. “But not everyone in the industry is pleasant. There’s back-biting and smack talk, plus a lot of design theft.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Believe me, I know that first hand.”

Before Ellie could comment, a dark-haired woman appeared before them. Dressed in red spandex pants, a red tunic, and red strappy heels, she parted the crowd with her presence. After stowing a huge bag under the table, she set her mini-Schnauzer in the pen with the models’ dogs.

She glared at Kitty. “This is the place where the dogs are being kept for the Nola contest, correct?”

“Hey, Lilah.” Kitty brushed away her tears and sat straighter in her chair. “How are you doing?”

The woman held her hand out to Ellie, acting as if Kitty hadn’t spoken. “I’m Lilah Perry, one of the four designers chosen for this contest. You must be Ellie, the dog sitter.”

“She’s the dog professional, Lilah,” Kitty answered, her voice tight with displeasure. “And one look at the little guys in the pen should tell you where you are.”

“Oh, hello, Kitty,” Lilah said, as if seeing the girl for the first time. “What are you doing here?”

Kitty’s lips thinned. “I guess you haven’t heard. NMD and the CFDA hired me to assist for this gig.”

“Well, how lucky for you to have a big-whig brother working at NMD these days.” Lilah almost sneered. “I’m starving,” she then announced, her tone demanding. “Is there anything decent to eat around here?”

Lilah’s voice was so loud just about everyone within shouting distance turned to stare. Couldn’t the woman see the table filled with food?

Standing, Kitty picked up an energy bar. “There’s plenty of fruit, and I hear these are good, with lots of flavors to choose from. They even have—”

“Aah! Are you trying to kill me?” Lilah’s voice rose to shrill. “There are peanuts in that bar.”

Kitty’s face flushed red. “Sorry, sorry. I forgot about your allergy. Let me read the list of ingredients. There’s got to be one in here that doesn’t contain peanuts.”

Ellie continued to watch the show. The rude new designer was as thin as a supermodel, but didn’t look healthy. Dark circles ringed her eyes and the wrinkles across her forehead added years to her face.

The crowd murmured as Lilah kept muttering. “She knows about my food problems . . . clear the night of . . . could kill me . . . thank God I have my pen.”

“That dame needs a conk on the head,”
Rudy stated, watching as Lilah retrieved her bag from under the table and began to dig.

When she finished complaining, she ignored a flustered Kitty, who was still reading ingredients, and flounced to Ellie’s side. Narrowing her hazel eyes, she inspected Rudy from head to tail. “I thought all the dogs in this contest were purebreds. This one certainly isn’t.”

The second Ellie heard the comment she wrapped her fingers around her yorkiepoo’s muzzle. “This is Rudy. He’s a pound puppy of the best kind, and he’s all mine.”

Kitty stopped reading the energy bars and glanced at Ellie. “You’ll have to forgive Lilah. Besides her peanut allergy, she has another severe affliction. It’s called overinflated ego.”

Several of the people standing nearby laughed. As if making a point, the designer put her hands on her nonexistent hips and nodded toward her mini-Schnauzer. “My baby’s competed in conformation shows, so I know something about the canine world. I was assured I’d be fitting a purebred dog.”

“Just because a dog isn’t a purebred doesn’t mean they’re bad, or untrainable, or unlovable,” Kitty interjected. “And why are you picking on a dog?”

Lilah’s kohl-lined eyes narrowed. “Poor you, still feeling sorry for yourself because you didn’t get one of the design spots.” She focused on Ellie, who felt as if she was sitting center court at the U.S. Open. “Have you seen Cassandra or Dominique? They’re my models, and I wanted to take a good look at them before their fitting.”

“Uh, no,” Ellie said. Her head was starting to spin, and she wondered what on earth she had gotten herself into.