We started the slow walk back to the security barrier, Jane’s nanny following. We would have to collect our luggage and get them to take it off the plane or something. I wasn’t sure of the technicalities but Jane thought it was important we tell them we can’t fly.
They probably wouldn’t be happy about having to delay the flight.
“Final boarding call for flight UT18 to Paris. The boarding gate will be closing shortly. All remaining passengers must immediately report to gate thirteen.”
My phone trilled.
Like lightning, I whipped it out, not even bothering to check the caller ID. “Hello?”
“Is that Truly Winx?” A male voice.
“Yes, it is.”
“This is Albus Wolf from the fashion council. We have made a decision on your… informal appeal.” He was speaking too slowly, my breath was caught in my throat. “We have decided to allow Every Girl Inc to continue. Congratulations.”
It was all I needed to hear. I started running for the boarding gate, Jane and Nanny following even if they were a little confused.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I said into the phone before hanging up. After all, we weren’t allowed phones in the boarding area.
“Are we open for business?” Jane asked, quickly becoming breathless.
“We sure are,” I said.
We reached the boarding gate just in time, earning ourselves dirty looks from the attendants. “You’d better hurry into your seats.”
We ran down the tunnel into the plane. Everyone else was already seated so it didn’t take much time to find the three empty seats that belonged to us.
Jane let me take the window seat because she was ‘so over planes’. Whatever. Yeah me! I watched everything out that little window, even though it was dark.
I gripped the seat for takeoff but all the twinkling lights of the city below quickly took my attention away from any fear. We were so high up it was amazing. Our city looked like it belonged in a snow globe.
For the first hour of the flight, I was in awe of everything. Much to her credit, Jane was actually really patient in explaining everything and answering all my questions. She thought it was funny that I read the safety card thoroughly and that I couldn’t believe the bathroom was just a tiny closet.
We slept after the novelty wore off. It took about seven hours to get to Paris and it was incredible seeing the city as we landed. My window practically had nose prints on it.
Getting through the immigration line and baggage claim was a little scary. Thank goodness I had Jane or I would have freaked out and gotten shot or something. All I did was stay quiet and do what Jane did.
And then… we stepped out into Paris.
I took a deep breath, needing to pinch myself that I was really there. In Paris. France. A whole other country. And we were there as guests of the Paris Fashion Week Committee.
Life could not get any better.
A taxi took us to the hostel – hopefully it was in the budget. Nanny – who I eventually found out was actually a housekeeper called Violet – stayed at the hotel across the road. She wasn’t in the budget, Jane’s parents had paid for her to accompany us. Hence the fancy digs.
But it didn’t matter where we were staying because we needed to get to work. Our clothes were not going to walk themselves down the runway, we needed models like we needed air.
Jane had conducted some research before we left home about where the nearest schools were in our hostel district. We had about an hour before the school let out so we scoped the area and had a coffee while we waited.
Parisians looked fancy. There was no other way to describe them. Most of the ones passing the café in front of us were impeccably dressed and well presented. The women looked confident and the men distinguished. The young men looked hot.
All the people watching made the time hurry by, and before we knew it, the school’s bell interrupted us and we had to run to catch up with some students.
Jane was too scared to go up to any of the girls leaving the school so it was all up to me. I tried to spot the older ones, the ones whose parents shouldn’t have a problem with them modeling in Paris Fashion Week.
As part of our preparations, I had enlisted the help of a reluctant French club again. They helped me type up a flyer that I waved in front of the potential models that explained who we were and what we wanted. It was much easier than learning an entire new language myself.
I saw a group of five girls leaving the school gates. They looked about my age and were made up of all different body shapes. They were definitely our kind of girls.
“Excusez-moi,” I said, getting their attention before holding up the flyer. “Please.”
They humored me, at least reading through the entire thing before looking at me. I didn’t know what to say so I just smiled. At least smiles were international.
One girl with dark brown hair down to her waist and startling green eyes pointed to the flyer and then at herself. I nodded, pointing at all the girls. They looked a little confused.
Yeah, I wasn’t good at charades. Never had been. Never would be.
I used my two fingers to imitate walking and then tugged at my blouse. I thought that explained walking in a fashion parade perfectly.
They must have agreed. One by one, the girls started nodding and speaking excitedly in French. I really wished I knew what they were saying.
I pulled out more copies of the flyer from my bag and handed them around. They had all our parade details on them so hopefully they would show up. If their smiles were anything to go by, they would.
I repeated the same process with dozens of girls. We didn’t need that many models, but I figured the chances of only a few showing up were quite high. We needed to sway the odds in our favor as much as possible.
When I was out of flyers, I found Jane sitting by the school’s front gate. She stood when she saw me. “Do we have models?”
“I sure hope so,” I replied.
We spent the rest of the day sightseeing around the city. I managed to work out the public transport system pretty quickly which helped. If there was something I excelled at, it was public transport. Jane, not so much.
FYI – I might have almost lost her a few times.
But only almost, I managed to find her every time.
Standing in front of the Eiffel Tower was like being in a dream. I never thought I would ever be able to see it with my own eyes and there I was, actually able to touch it. We took the elevator to the viewing platform and looked out over the city.
It took my breath away.
Paris hummed with energy I hadn’t experienced before. It rushed and flowed around buildings hundreds of years old. The history written on every piece of pavement was astonishing. If only my History teacher could have captured that same magic in his classes – maybe I would have paid more attention.
Jane had been to Paris before so she made an excellent tour guide. Even if she did laugh at my confusion at seeing a glass pyramid in the middle of the city. FYI – that’s the entrance to the Louvre museum. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
We almost got run over near the Arc De Triomphe but managed to dodge all the crazy drivers. The subway was much safer underground.
Finally, absolutely exhausted and with my mind officially blown, we returned to the hostel and fell into bed. I didn’t even notice the other girls sharing our dorm. If they snored, they didn’t wake me.
Thank goodness I slept. Because the next morning it dawned on me that we were about to perform at Paris Fashion Week and things would never be the same ever again.
CHAPTER 8
Good thing I was an excellent actor. Walking through all the tents and buildings that made up Paris Fashion Week, I almost melted with fangirl bliss. Everywhere I looked I saw my idols.
Chanel. Stella McCartney. Versace. Sass & Bide. Alex Perry.
Their logos were enough to make me freak out. Seeing their clothes was like a religious experience. Yet I ke
pt my cool, pretending I was completely unaffected.
Unlike Jane, who was really unaffected. If she cared about how monumental this was, she didn’t let on. She was all business, pulling me through until we reached the large canvas tent designated as ours.
That’s right, we had our own tent.
At least for a day.
We were shown through the tent which was basically just two rooms – the runway and seating area, and the back where we would get all the models ready.
Violet earned her chaperone fee and helped us unpack all the clothes. We hung them on the supplied racks and ironed out any wrinkles that had appeared while travelling.
After that, we set up the runway. It was just a white platform so we hung banners with our logo on it all around. If the models were photographed, we needed to make sure our logo was present too so people would know where to get the clothes.
It was tradition in fashion parades to give out gift bags to guests. We would have loved to do that now, but our budget just didn’t extend that far. Instead, we placed a leaflet with our business details and our mission on each of the chairs.
One day, we’d be able to do it right.
We were all set up, which meant we were only now waiting for our models to arrive. If they arrived. I desperately hoped we wouldn’t be recruiting Violet to walk for us.
“What if they don’t show up?” Jane asked, slumping down on the edge of the runway.
“They’ll show.”
“But-”
“Look, we had to convince a fashion council to let us stay open, plus our parents had to give us permission to come, then we had to find enough money to actually get here. The universe wants us to do this fashion parade, okay? We can pull off another miracle,” I said. We had to stay positive and have some faith.
Besides, it was all we had at that point. Too late to change things now.
“You really believe that, don’t you?” Jane asked, like she couldn’t believe it herself.
“I have to. Something has to go right.”
As another half hour passed, the doubts started to creep in. Sheer panic was about to take control. I hadn’t imagined none of our models showing up. I thought we’d have a few, at least.
Was it illegal to kidnap people off the streets and force them into pretty clothes so they could walk in a straight line for us?
Hmmm….
Just when I was seriously considering that idea, the miracle happened. A group of almost ten girls poked their heads into the tent, speaking in French. I had no clue what they wanted until they held up my flyer. Our models had arrived.
And not just those ten. We ended up with over thirty of the school girls. Just as we had hoped, there were girls of all shapes, sizes, ethnicities, and styles. So many girls but thankfully we had the perfect outfit for each of them.
Violet wasn’t exactly Miss Mary-Margaret, but she could do some serious makeup. We kept the girls natural, just using the tiniest amounts of cosmetics. Hair was the same – ponytails and a few braids were as fancy as they came.
For every girl to look good in our clothes, they didn’t need piles of makeup and heavily styled hair. They just needed to be themselves.
Being yourself was beautiful.
Being true was beautiful.
Pretending to be fake was not.
The clock was ticking down but things were under control. It was hard to believe we might actually pull it off. Every Girl Inc was actually walking in Paris Fashion Week. I still felt like pinching myself to make sure it was really happening.
“Truly,” Jane yelled over the chaos, snapping her fingers to get my attention. “We have a visitor.”
My nerves buzzed as I weaved my way through the girls to reach her by the entrance flap of the tent. A man was standing with her, wearing a snazzy black suit – probably Armani if I had to guess.
“Truly, this is August DePeriere, the head of Paris Fashion Week,” Jane said. She was standing taller, putting on her best professional demeanor.
“It’s so nice to meet you.” I shook his hand. “Thank you for inviting us here. We are so excited to be a part of your event.”
August nodded but his eyes kept flicking to the madness behind me. Surely he’d seen the chaos of behind the scenes before. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” He spoke with a thick accent but all in English, thank goodness. “Who are these people?”
“They’re our models. Everyone is dressed, we’re just putting on the final touches now.”
He pushed past me to step into the tent. “These are not models.”
Now it was my turn to stand a little taller. “Not professional models, no. We always hire ordinary girls to work for us, that’s what our entire business is about. Every Girl Inc is for every girl.”
His face was starting to grow red. “You cannot do that. We have standards. Our guests must see the best, and these are not the best. This is preposterous.”
Wait… what?
“They will see the best, they’re still wearing our clothes. Just because the models aren’t ten foot tall and ridiculously skinny doesn’t mean they aren’t the best. This is what we’re all about,” I insisted. I had to try really hard to keep the shrillness out of my voice.
“No, no, no, this will not do.” August started pacing, one hand on his hip. “You will not show here. Not today and not ever.”
My mouth flapped open and shut a few times. I was lost for words.
Thankfully, Jane found some. “But you can’t do that. You invited us here, there are people coming. We can’t just call everything off because you don’t like our models.”
“I can and I have. Now pack up your things and leave,” he said, turning on his heels and leaving our tent like it was personally offensive to be there for a moment longer.
Jane and I looked at each other in despair. So much for miracles. We’d worked dozens of them already and now it was all for nothing.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered.
I pinched myself, thinking my dream had become a nightmare. Still awake.
There was nothing I could say. I slipped out of the tent, ignoring Jane’s questions about where I was going. I needed to breathe, figure out a way to fix this. Nobody takes my dreams away from me.
Nobody.
I was not going to let anyone else down, especially not myself. I was a fighter and a dream chaser. I could do this, I just needed to figure out how.
My feet came to a halt at the end of the event limits. People were lining up, ready to come in and see the first shows of the day. Some of them might even have been waiting to see ours.
Looking past them, there was a public courtyard that connected all the surrounding buildings. It was closed off to traffic.
I got a wicked idea.
Guerrilla fashion parades were kind of our thing.
CHAPTER 9
“Okay, everyone listen up,” I yelled out over the din. I waited a few seconds while all our models quieted down. “We are changing our venue and need everyone’s help to move everything.”
“Truly, what are you doing?” Jane asked, tugging at my shirt. I ignored her.
“Please try really hard not to crease or dirty your clothes.” Blank faces. Damn different languages. Instructions were not going to work. “Follow me.”
I stacked a few chairs together and handed them to Jane. “Help me get the girls to carry these. We have to hurry or we’ll be caught.”
“What’s going on? We can’t steal things.”
“We’re just borrowing. We’ll return them. Please trust me. This is our only option.”
She took the chairs and I smiled.
Moving on to the next few seats, I did the same thing. Each girl was given a small stack to carry until we had the entire room in our hands.
I led the way out of the tent, our little elephant line heading directly for the courtyard. Jane and I had official lanyards around our necks, nobody stopped us or even glanced at us twice.
“You aren’t planning on us carrying the entire runway over here, are you?” Jane asked, huffing from the exertion. She wasn’t so good with all the physical stuff.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I grinned, knowing it frustrated her.
We set up the chairs in a U formation around an empty space in the courtyard. Jane lined up the models down a nearby alleyway, double checking their clothes and appearance was still impeccable.
I hurried back to the tent and scrawled a note with a big arrow to put on the door directing everyone over to the courtyard. August could only stop us showing in the tent, he had no jurisdiction outside the event grounds.
At least I hoped not, anyway.
Running back to the courtyard, I hung our logo on everything I could. Considering the whole thing had taken only fifteen minutes, I was pretty impressed with how it all looked. The chairs were in perfect rows, there was enough room for the girls, our logo would be photographed, and even our flyers were in place. We wouldn’t have music, but hopefully nobody would notice.
We were good to go. We just needed guests.
They should have been arriving by now. I sent Violet back to the tent to discreetly point guests our way. I’m pretty sure Violet hated me a little for that. We weren’t going to be BFF’s in a long while.
Jane waited at the end of the alleyway, her panic more urgent with every minute that passed. I knew how she felt. I just needed one more miracle.
Come on, universe, just one more.
You can do it.
I smoothed my dress – designed by Every Girl Inc, of course – for a distraction. Plastering on a smile, I took a few breaths. If nobody showed up, then we would just pack up and go home. Paris had a lot of good pastries and chocolate we could drown our sorrows in. We’d be okay. It wouldn’t be the end of the world.
But it could be the end of our careers.
Okay, don’t panic.
August could blacklist us from every fashion show in the world. He had connections, we were definitely making enemies. If our show wasn’t a huge success, nobody would ever know about us again.
Fashion Fraud Collection Page 18
