It was a big shoot.
So, unsurprisingly, Frederick was there.
And, naturally, he was ignoring her because one should never mix business with pleasure, right?
She tried not to look annoyed. The pinched expression on her face wouldn’t sell this handbag. Neither would the fact that she kept looking over her shoulder every single time she heard feminine laughter coming from the corner.
The studio was set up for a multi-layer shoot; handbags, gloves, scarves, and earrings.
Fall accessory madness for Trend, the magazine that Brittany worked for. Speaking of Brittany… she was supposed to show up after she grabbed Roger from the hospital.
“Everlee, sweetie.” Jauq snapped his fingers. “Over here. Yes, loosen your fingers a bit from the strap, push your neck forward a bit. There you go.”
The fact that he even had to coach her would be insulting if it weren’t for the fact that she was distracted. Her stomach rumbled with emptiness as more laughter came from the corner.
“Sorry.” She managed a small smile for Jauq, “Last night was a long one.”
“I heard.” He clicked another photo. “Zoe’s line’s supposed to be a huge hit at Fashion Week.”
“Yes.” Everlee beamed over the safe topic. She’d be fine as long as he didn’t ask when she was going to pop out some kids. Any sort of family topic was off-limits. “We’re all so proud of her.”
“Well.” Another click. “She deserves it. All of you do.”
Jauq lowered his camera and looked away, then ran his hand down the graying ponytail that fell past his shoulders. His black-rimmed glasses slid off his nose, and he pushed them up. “Why don’t we take a break?”
Ah, she’d been too focused on her safe topics to remember his.
Talking about the three of them always made Jauq remember her.
Danica had been his favorite out of the four of them.
Dane’s sister.
Their best friend.
“You guys, I met the most amazing photographer today!” Danica swirled around the small, cramped room, her skinny arms outstretched as she let out a giggle and then pulled her long, chocolate-brown hair into a ponytail.
A new shipment of trainees had just landed in their cramped apartment, making it around sixteen girls in less than six hundred square feet.
Yeah, they were living the life.
“Come on!” Brittany pulled Danica’s hand as the four girls giggled and made their way to the fire escape.
Danica pulled out a cigarette for each of the girls. Everlee took one greedily, hoping it would help keep her appetite at bay when all she wanted was pizza, heavy on the cheese.
On command, her stomach grumbled.
“So. Hungry.” Everlee waited for Danica to light her cigarette, took two puffs, and blew out the smoke. “All right, spill, who is he? Have I worked with him yet? God, some of the photographers are sexy.” One in particular. Frederick. But that was their secret, right? Just theirs.
“His name is Jauq.” She grinned. “He’s older, but his ponytail…”
“Eww!” Zoe scrunched up her button nose. “He’s old? Like as in your dad?”
Danica lifted a shoulder. “Who cares? He said we should hang out sometime.”
“That’s code for he wants to see you naked,” Brittany said softly. “You should be careful.”
“Easy there, Bible thumper,” Zoe teased, earning an answering smile from Brittany, who honestly didn’t mind the nickname. She was good.
So crazy good, it was annoying.
“What’s he look like?” Everlee tried to change the subject. “Tall? Dark? Handsome? Does he meet the checklist?”
Danica pulled a piece of white paper out of her tight Levis and unfolded it. They had a master list and had made copies for each other for when they each found their happily ever after. “Well, he just did a cover for Vogue, so he’s well known at least. Rich?” She went down the list and read. “Big apartment? Well, I guess I don’t know yet. New Yorker through and through? Absolutely, the guy has the accent and everything.” Her eyes fell to the bottom, and then it was like they all went silent. “Would he love me?”
It was a stupid thing to put on the list.
Everlee had been the one to add it. Brittany had encouraged her because after one year of modeling in New York, it was impossible to know if people loved you for you, or only for your face and your body. Was any of it even real?
It didn’t feel that way.
And their agent didn’t make them feel like anything more than glorified objects that made her money. And if you didn’t, well… You were gone and sent a lovely bill in the mail with an itemized list of what you owed her for having to put up with you for a summer.
It wasn’t what people saw on TV.
In ways, it was glamorous.
But a lot of it was like a really competitive summer camp where you weren’t given food, and cocaine addictions were encouraged.
“I bet he could,” Danica said in a dreamy voice. “He looked at me like… like he saw past everything else.”
They all sighed with her.
Because that was the dream.
Look past the face.
See the woman beneath.
Brittany clutched her worn black Bible to her chest. Everlee gave a small shake of her head.
Brittany just smiled with everyone else. “It will happen for you, Danica, I know it will.”
“Yeah, wish I had that faith,” Danica said with a half-smile. “For the record, thank you.”
It was one moment in years of them, where they would confess and dream with the sounds of sirens and yelling and the smell of trash lining the street in Hell’s Kitchen.
“Friends forever,” Zoe said in a cheesy voice as the girls all shared a group hug, only to be interrupted by a new girl, who poked her head out the window with a snarl.
“Who put their crap on my bed?”
Everlee sighed.
While Zoe said in a sarcastic voice, “Fairy tales really do come true!”
“Everlee!” Brittany stalked into the room. She was tall, but her high heels made her even taller—everyone took notice.
But that was exactly what happened when you were Brittany. People stared, and they had trouble looking away. With gorgeous hair that had strands of every color of brown in the world, blue eyes, and legs for days, she just… commanded a room.
Everlee used to be jealous.
But Brittany had never been anything but supportive and wonderful. Beautiful. She was the perfect woman and smiled at everyone, including their old agent, who had basically been trying to shove them into prostitution every single time they went overseas. They’d learned their lesson really quick when several of their friends never made it back and were still considered missing.
“Hey.” Everlee grabbed a bottle of water while Jauq switched lenses. “How was Roger?”
“Oh, you know.” She looked flushed. Why did she look flushed? Her cheeks had a pink hue that wasn’t normal for her. “Did you sprint here or something?”
“Hmm?” Brittany pressed her lips together, her eyes wide.
“Okay, we both know you can’t lie to save your life. If the world was going to end based on your ability to lie, we would all die.” Everlee laughed, feeling the stress of the day dissipate. It was like Brittany took it all away with one single conversation, sometimes even with just her presence.
“So?” Brittany crossed her arms and then uncrossed them. Her fidgeting was her tell, mainly because she was always so composed that Everlee sometimes wanted to mess up her hair and run away just to get a rise out of her.
“Who is he?”
“He?” Brittany’s voice had a high pitch to it. “Oh, um… Roger, yes he’s great. He’s not going to die, and after I fed him, he was in a much better mood.”
“Right.” Everlee waited.
Brittany stared her down and then slumped. “Okay, fine, there was a doctor.”
“Ohhhhhhh
.” Everlee clapped her hands. “Tell me everything. Was he hot? Did he ask to have sex with you during his break? Please tell me he used a cheesy pick-up line like, ‘I’m a doctor…’”
Brittany gave her a confused look. “How is that cheesy?”
“If he said it in a low voice, puffed out his chest, and gave you a smolder… cheesy, all of it. That’s like you walking up to some poor soul and going, ‘I’m a supermodel,’ then waiting for them to faint.”
Brittany shook her head. “It is not!”
“Is.” Everlee sighed and took a seat in one of the chairs while Brittany did the same. It wasn’t lost on her that the laughter was getting louder from Frederick’s corner, as if he were throwing a frat party.
The girls worshipped him.
“You’re so funny, Frederick!”
“You’re so hot!”
“Do you work out?”
Everlee squeezed the water bottle so tightly, the cap almost popped off. It wasn’t helpful that Brittany was giving her a look of concern either, as if to say, “hey, should I go over there and kick him in the nuts?” Though knowing Brittany, she’d just politely tell him that he was a jerk, smiling the whole way through it before telling him that he needed Jesus.
Taking her cue, Brittany started talking. “He was Roger’s surgeon.”
Everlee gasped. “A surgeon!”
“Shhh!” Brittany hushed her. “Not so loud. Besides, you know how I am with dating now that…” She just shrugged. Yeah, now that her love life had exploded with blood and gore for the world to see. Train wreck? Absolutely. Life-altering? Even more so. Though nobody could ever figure out why it was so devastating.
It felt like the only part of herself that Brittany kept from her friends. Everlee chose to ignore it.
They all had their secrets, didn’t they?
“I know.” Everlee put her hand on Brittany’s, noticing her new Rolex and freshly painted pale pink fingernails. See? Perfect. “But don’t you think it’s time?”
“Maybe.” She crossed her legs. “I guess. I don’t know. What if he’s there?”
“The surgeon, or the man who shall not be named? And where?”
Another sigh. “Roger sacrificed himself on the altar of friendship and convinced the hot doctor to go with me to the gala.”
Stunned, Everlee just stared.
“Yeah.” Brittany fidgeted with her purse as if she needed something to do with her hands. “He couldn’t just start with coffee? The poor doctor’s going to get thrown into a den of hungry wolves.”
“Eh, more like thrown into shark-infested waters with a severe head wound and blood all over his face. But, yeah, basically the same thing.” Everlee flashed her friend a smile. “Look at the positive, you won’t get attached over coffee and a quiet dinner and then see him run for the hills. This way, it’s like a Band-Aid. He can either take it and stay, help you heal”—she elbowed Brittany and did a little jig—“or he’ll run out of the gala screaming.”
“Sounds like a great first date. The doc runs out screaming, I hide in the bathroom and try to stay far, far, away from the family.”
“I swear it’s like they put a homing device in your purse—where you are, they are.”
“Tell me about it.” Brittany grabbed her phone and scrolled through it. “Are we still on for drinks later?”
“Yup.” Everlee stood as Jauq motioned for her to get back to work.
“’Kay.” Brittany kissed her on the cheek. “See you at Domino!”
“Bye!” Everlee watched her friend leave in a controlled flurry of perfection. She shook her head and relaxed as she moved effortlessly in front of the camera once more.
See? Five minutes with Brittany, and she was already calmer.
And as if sensing her peace—
Frederick shouted out some profanity at someone, which had everyone roaring with laughter and telling him how funny he was.
Yes. He fed his beast well.
It hurt to think that after years of marriage, she was only now seeing that it would always be about him.
And what she could bring to the table for him.
She wondered how much longer he would put up with someone who refused to feed his need for attention and compliments. Because every time she gave, he took, leaving her emptier than before.
“One minute.” She smiled at Jauq, then walked over to her purse, popped a pill that looked like aspirin, and then returned. “Okay, ready.”
“Headache?”
Heartache. “Yeah, sorry, you know how the lights get me.”
Jauq grinned. “I do, but they must be bright to capture your perfection.”
“Thank you.” She relaxed again into another pose and let the numbness wash over her.
It was fine.
It would be fine.
After all, she was living the dream.
Wasn’t she?
She was early.
She hated being late.
It was the exact opposite of what people expected when they saw Zoe for the first time. She dressed in bohemian colors, a mixture of Dolce and Michael Kors that always made people do a double-take. Bold colors paired with extravagant textures and patterns all tied up with one dazzling pair of Stuart Weitzman boots.
Her clothes represented her life.
She wanted it to be colorful.
Free.
Beautiful.
Maybe it was her way of controlling something, just one thing. She eyed her cell with a worried look.
Seven missed calls.
All from Dane.
One text that had a nice little clock emoji on it as if to remind her that time was running out. Perfect, just perfect.
He always got what he wanted.
Always.
Even her.
“I’ll make it go away,” he whispered. “I’ll make it all go away.”
“What do I do?” Zoe wailed. “I can’t have this go public. My parents will disown me!”
“I told you, I’ll take care of it, and I will.”
She exhaled. Only nineteen, and already she had a sex tape that would make any porn star proud. The video hid nothing, and it had been done on purpose.
That was the worst part.
She’d been set up.
But who would do that to her?
“I’ve got this, just promise me you’ll let me take care of you. Promise me, Zoe.” He begged, he pleaded. Dane was not a man to do either of those things.
He’d said he loved her.
She wasn’t sure he loved anyone more than he loved himself. She checked her cell and put it back down on the table just as the waiter brought over four glasses of water. They always ordered four.
It was a way to keep Danica’s memory alive.
That and the tequila shot that sat near the empty seat until it was one of the girl’s turn to take it and make a toast to the fourth friend who had found life too hard to live.
“You’re early.” Dane’s low, hypnotic voice had her jumping in her seat. Of course, he’d probably gotten her schedule from their secretary, who was never good at saying no to handsome men with fat wallets and most of New York dangling from their wrists like one half of a handcuff.
“And you’re not invited.” She grabbed her old Kate Spade, the very first purchase she had made when she landed her first cover, and hooked it around her chair, still not making eye contact.
He sat.
“Please, sit, join me,” she said sarcastically.
“I will, thank you.” His grin was wide, menacing, sexier than it should be, and too powerful to continue staring at. It was as if the sun were beating down on her face, threatening to burn her alive if she kept looking. “We should probably discuss Fashion Week.”
That got her attention. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I own half your company, don’t I? Isn’t it typical for business partners to meet for drinks, go over plans? I just want to make sure you have everything ready to go.”
“Okay, f
irst of all, I bought back your half.”
“You still owe interest and one tiny debt.”
Tiny debt, her ass. “Second, you wouldn’t know how to plan my runway show if I held you at gunpoint.”
“You’re welcome to try.” He tilted his head in amusement then raised his hand.
The waiter stumbled over his feet to make it to the table. “Mr. Saldino, the usual?”
Naturally the poor kid was shaking. She knew that feeling well. It’s like Dane couldn’t help himself.
Was there any restaurant Dane hadn’t ruined for her?
“Yes.” Dane nodded his head. “And a whiskey sour for the beautiful woman scowling in our direction.”
Zoe gritted her teeth. “You know I hate whiskey.”
“You don’t actually hate it. You just despise that it reminds you of the taste of my kiss.”
He had her there.
She would die before admitting it. “The runway show has already been planned. I stayed up late for months, agonizing over the order of the designs and making sure that everything was ready from the coloring to the background music. I’ve got this.”
“You always do.” He leaned in, his tan forearms pressed against the tabletop, and ducked his head. “You’re prettier when you’re not glaring.”
“I’m glaring because you make me angry.”
“I make you angry because I’m right, which makes you…” His voice trailed off as their drinks were delivered in record speed.
He tilted back his scotch on the rocks, his eyes never leaving hers. “Say yes.”
She gulped against the dryness in her throat. “No.”
“Well, then.” He stood and pulled something out of his jacket, then slid it across the table, one massive finger still holding it pinned to the wood. “I guess you’ve left me no choice.”
“But to pass me a note and ask me to circle yes or no?”
“Don’t be cute when I’m being serious. That makes me angry.” His voice deepened. “It makes me remember what it was like between us before Danica died. We were a team.”
Fashion Jungle Page 4
