“You know how this business goes. It’s eat or be eaten,” said Marnie. “Well, I think I’d rather eat.”
With that, she walked off.
“Frederick,” Everlee called. “Wait, this isn’t you, you don’t have to—”
“Wow!” Frederick turned on his heel. “This isn’t me? Do you even realize what I’m facing right now? The police are all over me. All over my laptop. All over some encrypted files that apparently were no longer encrypted.” He glared and then looked ready to puke. “I’m done with you and whatever the—”
“Enough.” Roger walked up to the group, earning a wide-eyed, over-the-shoulder stare from Marnie. “Go.”
“Frederick,” Marnie called, her tone a bit panicked. “Leave it.”
“Wow.” Everlee stared dumbfounded at Roger. “Are you telling us that she’s actually afraid of you?”
He just shook his head and turned to Zoe. “We need at least three male models and another woman who can fit into that.” He pointed to a slinky black number with combat boots and colorful thigh-high stockings with a draped army jacket over the top.
“Okay.” Zoe nodded. “Okay, just let me think…” She gave them all a desperate look.
“Ronan,” Brittany blurted, earning Ronan’s cautious gaze. “Publicity is his thing. He’ll do it.”
“I will?” Ronan asked, his voice cracking.
“He will,” everyone else confirmed in unison.
“Yeah, right, Ro?” She would do anything for her friend. “Anything.”
“Suurrre.” He shook his head. “I would love to wear…” He glanced over at the men’s clothing hanging on the racks and gulped. “That.” Another gulp. “In public.”
“It’s high fashion.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “What about the rest of it?”
“Dane!” Everlee snapped her fingers.
“Oliver.” Brittany tossed him on the sacrificial altar of friendship and new relationships. “And what if we got Grace up here? She loves trying new things.”
Everyone gave her a doubtful look.
“I’ll get her,” Roger announced. “She owes me a favor.” And then he called over his shoulder. “I’ll grab your boy toy, too, Brittany. Can’t promise I won’t ask what he puts in his protein shakes.”
Brittany groaned while Ronan gave her a curious look. “What?”
He shrugged. “Just never took you for the type of girl that was into all that bulk.”
“Um, every girl likes a solid six-pack.” This from Zoe as she recovered and fixed her hair. “I can model the last dress when I walk through. It’s not going to be perfect, but…” She took a deep breath. “It will work. Right?”
Brittany wanted it to work, but she wasn’t sure. It was extremely fast-paced. Things had to be timed perfectly. For the last six days, they’d helped Zoe work on the show, and now, they were going to help her succeed even if they had to bribe the guys.
“Right.” Brittany found herself saying a little prayer as Roger approached with Oliver and Grace. They both looked as though they were being walked toward the figurative plank. “Hey, so we need a favor.”
“This one explained.” Grace pointed to Roger, subjecting him to a malevolent glare. “I loathe the day I told you I owed you.”
“And yet I don’t, and probably never will.” He grinned. “That’s your outfit, mmkay?”
Grace’s eyes widened. “At least it’s gorgeous, even if it flashes a bit of thigh.”
“A lot of thigh,” Roger corrected.
“That’s not at all helpful, Roger, thank you,” Zoe said through clenched teeth, grabbing Oliver by the hand. “And you get to wear this.”
His eyebrows shot skyward, and he stared at Brittany, then swallowed hard and shook his head. “Well, I guess there’s a first for everything.”
“He’d better be getting a really big kiss or something else tonight,” Ronan said under his breath.
“Ah, the senator.”
Ronan held out his hand. “Nice to see you again. Am I being too optimistic when I ask if your outfit has more… color?”
“Only the best for Ronan.” Zoe dangled a hanger in front of them. Ronan looked heavenward and muttered a curse. “How is this supposed to fit me?”
“That should get you a lot of votes.” Oliver whistled.
“If I ever live it down.” Ronan grabbed the hanger. “Yes.”
“We go on in five,” Zoe told the room. “Guys, Grace, head to makeup and hair so they can do something really quick, and then line up. Brittany and Chrissy, you walk down first, together. Ronan.” She licked her dry lips. “Ronan, you’re right after. Once you get to the end, twirl Chrissy a bit, and then lean in and kiss Brittany’s cheek, I want it to look… familial.”
Oh, God. Brittany tensed but nobody seemed to care—at all.
Within minutes, everyone was lined up and ready to go, and Zoe looked like she was seconds away from puking.
“It’s going to be fine,” Brittany assured her.
Zoe was bent over, her hands on her thighs, sucking in deep breaths. “How do we know it’s going to be fine?”
“Well.” Brittany eyed the guys. “Dane’s here. He fixes things, right? He won’t let you fail. Furthermore, I keep praying you don’t fail, so I’m just going to believe you won’t. How’s that for having some faith?”
Tears gleamed in Zoe’s eyes. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you and Everlee, Danica, Dane, everyone. But I thank God I have you.”
“Same.” Everlee grinned, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, Brittany knew it would be a while before Everlee felt okay with the shift in her life, in the future she saw for herself. But Brittany also knew firsthand that just because the window closed right along with the door, that didn’t mean there wasn’t another window somewhere just waiting for a person to crawl through.
Oliver winked at her; he seemed more excited than annoyed.
And then the music started.
And it was time to go.
Brittany grabbed Chrissy’s hand, squeezed it, and they took the catwalk together, as mother and daughter.
For the first time.
The crowd went crazy when they got to the end, especially when Ronan joined them on stage. The cameras were blinding, the chatter and talk insane. Ronan twirled Chrissy then bent low and kissed Brittany on the cheek. Then they walked back, as a family.
Oliver passed Brittany with Everlee soon following.
Within minutes, they all lined up again while Zoe made her way down the middle, proud, beautiful Zoe in a tight, white dress that set off her brown skin so beautifully, it almost hurt to look at her.
Standing ovation.
Brittany’s eyes filled with tears as she clapped for her friend, and when Zoe finally made it back to the end, it was Dane of all people who walked down to meet her and hand her a bouquet of white roses.
Then kissed her full on the mouth for everyone to see.
Brittany gasped while Everlee’s eyes widened.
And the best part of the entire thing was that Zoe, angry Zoe, kissed him right back.
Dane released her, grabbed her hand, then walked her back through the line. They followed back into wardrobe, adrenaline pumping, so tense it was tangible.
That was what Brittany had loved about her job.
About modeling.
The adrenaline, the knowledge that people weren’t just looking at her as a person but as a model for something they wanted for themselves. It was never about Brittany, it was about the designers and how she could make them look good. There was something so satisfying about helping someone else.
Because that was what she felt like she was doing, helping sell something she believed in, and enjoying herself in the process.
“Wow.” Oliver pulled Brittany in for a kiss. “I’m not sure I’m ever going to recover from that. Until then, I just got paged, so I’m going to grab my cell and then I’ll be back to celebrate.” He looked back at Zoe. “We are celebrating, right?”
“Yes!” She hopped up and down. “Absolutely.”
He disappeared. Brittany quickly changed and then went in search of Ronan. Maybe they could sit and talk?
“Hey.” She found Chrissy instead, wiping off her makeup. “Is Ronan still here?”
“He went to go change.” She shrugged and then reached for her purse, knocking Brittany’s to the floor. “Oh, sorry!”
She reached to pick up the fallen lipstick and billfold and froze.
Lying face-up was a picture of Chrissy when she was twelve. “What’s this?”
Brittany couldn’t find her voice. “I can explain.”
“Explain why you have my seventh-grade picture?” Chrissy’s eyes darted back and forth as if she were trying to figure things out.
“I think you should sit.” Brittany reached for her.
“No.” Chrissy jerked away. “This is weird. You know this is weird, right? What’s going on?”
“You knew you were adopted,” Brittany said softly.
Chrissy’s eyes widened. “No, there’s no way, I don’t believe—”
Brittany took a deep breath and blurted, “I’m your biological mother.”
Chrissy burst into tears and ran off while everyone else just stared at her like she’d grown three heads.
Ronan and Oliver were already heading toward their dressing rooms when Chrissy raced by them. They both gave Brittany equally concerned looks.
Brittany gave Zoe a pleading look. Her friend nodded quickly. Brittany’s eyes welled with tears as she took off after her daughter.
Her. Daughter.
She didn’t have to look far.
Chrissy was in the corner, shoving her things into a small duffel bag, tears streaking her makeup, hands shaking. Her cell phone nearly slipped from her grip as she fumbled it and finally managed to get it inside the bag without it shattering on the floor.
“I’m sorry.” Stabbing pains shot through Brittany’s chest; her heart hurt more with each breath she took. “I didn’t know, I promise. I just found out.”
Chrissy stood to her full height and turned to her, crossing her arms. Her daughter was beautiful, wasn’t she? Fierce. Strong. “How long?”
“Days.” Brittany‘s voice cracked. “And, suddenly, it was like I was back in that hospital room, trying to decide the best future for you, for myself, for everyone.” Tears filled her eyes. “I was going to wait until after the show.”
Chrissy swiped under her eyes and hugged her body. “And how exactly were you planning on dropping that bomb? Hey, wanna know why we have the same hair and a similar nose? Surprise!”
Brittany squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for strength. “As silly as it sounds, I hadn’t even gotten that far. I think I’m still in shock, too.”
Chrissy leaned against the wall and then sank down until she was sitting near her bag. Models walked by them, makeup artists passed, racks of clothes rolled by. All of them reminders that the world kept spinning even though it felt like Brittany’s had stopped.
Because she was staring at it.
Her world.
Her daughter.
“I loved you,” Brittany whispered and then leaned down and reached for Chrissy’s hand. “I loved you so much, but I’d just turned eighteen and your father was out of college already working hard—succeeding.“
“I’m sixteen,” Chrissy said in a wooden voice as she stared up at Brittany, her eyes searching, questions swarming between them like a thick fog. “You were young.”
“Yes,” Brittany agreed and then joined Chrissy on the floor. “I’ve never let you go. The memory of holding you in my arms, brushing back your hair, singing songs over you, knowing that someone else would get the honor of doing those things for the rest of your life. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
Chrissy leaned her head on Brittany’s shoulder. “My mom and dad died.”
“I know.” Brittany’s throat felt like a ball was lodged in it. “I know.”
“I was so mad.” Chrissy sniffled. “So mad that God would take them away from me, so mad that they had to die. We had a perfect life.”
Something in Brittany’s chest eased. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
“But they left… and then I just felt… empty. I knew I was adopted, but I didn’t know anything beyond that, and I honestly didn’t care because it was just one more person who didn’t stay for me.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Brittany reached for her hand. “I’ve always been here.” She touched her chest as tears slid down her face. “And I’ve prayed for you every single night since the day you were born.”
Chrissy burst into ugly sobs as she held onto Brittany.
They held each other long enough that they were starting to gain the attention of people who walked back and forth between shows.
Chrissy finally let out a deep sigh. “What happens now?”
“That’s the best part.” Brittany squeezed her hand and then kissed her forehead. “Whatever we want, right?”
“You mean it?” Chrissy’s eyes were so bright, so innocent. Had Brittany ever been that young?
“I mean it.” Brittany would die before letting anything happen to her daughter.
“I would like that.” Chrissy finally smiled and then laughed through her tears. “Amazing, the one woman I looked up to all my life, and she’s the one who gave me life.”
Brittany almost started crying all over again. “It’s a beautiful mess, isn’t it?“
And, suddenly, it made sense.
All things together.
All things work together.
Brittany sighed. “We have time. Let’s go eat before they send a search party. Maybe we can talk about getting you out of those model apartments.”
Brittany hoped it wasn’t too much, too soon.
Chrissy threw her arms around Brittany’s neck. “Yes! I hate it there so much!”
“I figured.” Brittany stood and held out her hand.
Chrissy hesitated and then looked up at her. “What about my… dad?”
Brittany hesitated and then took a deep breath. “He knows I was trying to find you. I was going to try to tell him tonight, give him time to process. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah,” Chrissy said quickly. “I think I need time to process this even…” She seemed embarrassed over it, though she didn’t need to be. “What do I call you?”
“That’s another good part.” Brittany grinned. “Whatever you want. Just know I’m not going anywhere, all right?”
“All right.” Chrissy took Brittany’s hand and gave her one last hug.
As Brittany opened her eyes and looked across the room, she saw the devil himself, Dane Saldino, smile.
“Well, that went well.” Roger lifted his glass into the air and clinked it with Oliver’s. Apparently, they were best friends now. At least, according to Roger, who’d decided it a minute ago when they ordered the same whiskey.
He judged people based on their drinks. Brittany suppressed a chuckle. He always had.
According to Roger, a guy who drank good whiskey… well, he was someone you could keep around. Plus, he was easy on the eyes.
Roger winked at Brittany and then gave a warm smile to Chrissy. Strange how things were working out.
Was she really sitting next to her daughter?
Had she really just done a fashion show with her child?
She smiled to herself and then reached under the table to squeeze Chrissy’s fingers. She got a tight squeeze back.
Sixteen years of separation.
And the minute she had known, the second they had hugged, it was like part of her soul was knitting itself back together again.
So many tears shed after each of them had taken the catwalk.
And then to hold her hand, to have that moment with her where they were able to stand side by side facing the crowd. Magic.
All Brittany kept thinking was, let them know, let them see. She’d given up this spec
ial girl because she’d thought she had no other choice. Because she had been afraid. And if she were being totally honest… Because she had believed she would lose the career, the life she wanted if she kept her.
It just went to show that free will wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Neither was adulting.
“So.” Oliver sat across from her, next to Roger. “I’m new to all of this. Would we call the whole show a success?”
“He wants to know if he looked good,” Roger teased.
“Oh, no. I’m not worried about that in the slightest. I had leather pants on.” He nodded confidently.
“Don’t forget the vest,” Zoe added with a lift of her glass into the air. “Seriously, guys, I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Her eyes flickered to Dane; the guy still had a smudge of makeup on his face. It would be comical if they were allowed to actually laugh at the guy without getting a violent sneer in their direction. “All of you.”
Dane sighed. “I think I still have makeup on my face.”
“Oh, honey, that’s been there for the last hour. We took bets on how long you would last before you yelled at someone or shot something.” Roger just shrugged while Oliver gave Brittany an amused grin.
Dane grumbled under his breath about fashion.
His pants didn’t fit very well; they had been tailored for someone a lot thinner. Male models weren’t exactly known for putting in gym time, let alone hitting leg day twice a week.
The pants almost split across his thighs when he walked, though Brittany was convinced that was probably what would sell them out in the first place. He made them look good, not the other way around.
In fact, all the men had done a fantastic job.
Even Ronan.
Brittany stared into her wine glass and then stared harder.
When was the last time she’d even drunk alcohol with the purpose to forget and numb the pain?
Weeks ago, she had been hiding behind it.
And now, she was staring at a full glass.
Two weeks ago, she hadn’t even been able to think about Ronan, about her past, without wanting to numb it away.
Had she been using that as her therapy? As her way to escape?
Fashion Jungle Page 25
