Fashion Faux Paw

by Judi McCoy

  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?”

  The Chihuahua raised his nose toward the snack table and she backed up, then lowered to her knees and gazed at Ranger’s lumpy throw. After picking up a corner, she found Rudy curled in a tight ball. With her heart in her throat she asked, “Hey, are you all right?”

  No answer.

  She tapped his nose. “Rudy, are you okay?”

  Still no answer.

  Sensing his unhappiness, she rubbed his ears. “Do I need to make an appointment with Dr. Dave?” she asked, referring to Viv’s boyfriend and the veterinarian who took care of her dog.

  He buried his muzzle between his paws and Ellie swallowed hard. “Rudy, this isn’t funny. I know you’re mad, but I told you I’d talk Cassandra into finding another dog.”

  The music rose, signaling the start of NMD’s big event, and she heard Kurt Jager call out Kitty King’s name. Kitty had to display both evening and day wear for this show, and Ellie imagined the jumpsuit she’d admired would be first.

  “All right, be that way,” she said to her boy. “But don’t go anywhere else. We’ll discuss this at home.”

  Ellie and Ranger weaved their way through the crowd and managed to arrive at a half-decent spot with a view that showed most of the catwalk. After Kurt explained to the audience that Kitty had replaced Lilah Perry, he introduced her day wear design and allowed the music to take over.

  Yasmine and Cassandra appeared, one at a time, in the jumpsuit Ellie admired. On Yasmine, who was tall and slim, the suit was all legs worn with a pair of rust-colored boots that perfectly matched the suede on the collar, belt, and pockets. Cassandra’s look took a different turn when she did her catwalk run wearing spiked, platform heels in a cream color that blended with the body of the suit.

  There was no applause meter, but from the amount of clapping Ellie heard she felt certain the audience would choose Kitty’s design today over any of the outfits shown in the competition yesterday. Her creation was definitely more wearable than Lilah’s tight black skirt and tighter jacket.

  But the winner would be chosen by Nola Morgan Design alone, and she imagined they would take into account the audience’s reaction to each piece as well as the way the creations would appeal to a normal woman who bought her clothing on a budget.

  Kurt Jager broke into the still pounding applause and began the second part of the competition by informing the audience that the next group of designs encompassed evening wear.

  Marcus David’s models began the show, the same as the day before. His evening gown appeared regal yet simple, with a white, fitted bodice overlaid with crystal beading. When the models, Patti and Claire, began to strut, their gowns swirled from the waist down with inserts of white, pale green, soft pink, and sky blue. Applause rang out, and Ellie agreed with the audience. The dress reminded her of a walking rainbow, complementing each model’s coloring and figure. Ellie grinned. Marcus was a nice guy, and his work deserved to be appreciated.

  Designer number two, Anton Rouch, had a serious demeanor and a fear of dogs. She hadn’t heard a word from him since yesterday morning, when he’d talked to her about his models, and Kate and Lawan didn’t have much to say about him either.

  His gown, unlike him and his day wear creation, was playful and interesting. The silver-shot fabric draped over the left shoulder and tapered to the wearer’s waist while the bodice dipped low over her bare right shoulder. The fabric fell from the wide-belted waist in a slash of sparkling silver threads covering a sheathlike skirt of deep magenta with a leg-baring slit that ran to the thigh.

  Both models looked comfortable and ready to go out on the town, maybe to the opera or an upscale party, and the audience seemed to enjoy the way the gown flashed in the flood of lights gleaming from both overhead and the walkway.

  The applause continued as the third duo of models appeared. Kurt Jager made appropriate commentary, even throwing in a few jokes when he introduced Fiona. Dominique and Crystal, her models, wore an over-the-top flashy orange gown covered in sparkly sequins in varying shades of green, with a flowing cape that hooked onto the bodice by a huge yellow flower that Ellie expected would squirt water at any moment.

  Again, Fiona’s design was too bright and silly for her, but someone like Lady Gaga, or maybe a circus clown, would find the ensemble wearable.

  Finally, it was Kitty’s turn. Ellie knew the girl was under a huge amount of pressure. Kitty felt undeserving of her place in the competition. She was only here because the woman who had stolen her designs was dead, and her brother had just been arrested for the murder. How sad that the biggest moment in the young designer’s life was so tainted she was unable to enjoy the ride.

  The music blared as Yasmine appeared first, dressed in the stunning feathered gown. After making a two-part turn in place, she sauntered down the runway, her tall, slender body swaying in perfect time to the beat. The crowd gasped, then showed their approval with thundering applause as she sashayed back to the top of the stage.

  A moment later, Cassandra began her dip and sway. She wasn’t as tall as Yasmine, and she was broader across the shoulders and waist, but the feathered bodice fit her perfectly. When she turned in an elegant circle at the bottom of the catwalk, the gown’s color palette floated from pale pink to purple with every color in between getting a chance to shine. She did her own gracious saunter as she returned to the top of the ramp, where both models again swung in a circle, then disappeared through the curtain.

  Ellie smiled. If Kitty were next to her, she would have hugged her. Both models had done the spectacular dress justice. In the face of Jeffery’s arrest, that had to count for something.

  It took a while, but the audience finally filed out, and Ellie led the Greyhound back to their area. She had to make sure t
he dogs were returned to their proper owners and the toys and treats were put away for the next day. One by one, the models appeared to collect their charges, and she sorted out the carriers and helped the women store their pets inside.

  After Yasmine put a leash on her own mini Schnauzer, Jojo, and Lilah Perry’s dog, Klingon, she asked if Ellie had the time to talk with her privately. Ellie said yes, but when she turned around, she came face-to-face with three people who gazed at her as if she was at their command.

  “Hi,” she said, putting on a smile.

  “I’ve brought some people here to speak with you,” said Clark Fettel, his face a mask of superiority. He nodded toward the woman beside him. Nola McKay was short but undeniably elegant in dress and manner. They’d been introduced earlier, but Clark must not have been told. “This is Nola McKay, CEO of Nola Morgan Design.”

  Ms. McKay held out her hand and Ellie shook it. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

  Before the woman could answer, Clark continued, “And this is Morgan Prince, the company’s CFO.”

  Ellie grasped his outstretched hand. She’d seen him that first day, studying the activity around the food table, but they hadn’t been introduced. “They wanted to meet you, to discuss the . . . um . . . matter we talked about earlier.”

  The matter we talked about earlier? Ellie wasn’t quite sure what to say until she saw Cassandra standing behind the tall, broad Mr. Prince. “Oh, you mean Ranger. The Greyhound.”

  “It’s all right, Ellie,” said Yasmine, who’d been waiting for a private moment. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

  After the supermodel walked off with both mini Schnauzers, Ellie expelled a breath of frustration. If she’d known she was going to get stuck in the middle of a contract negotiation, she might not have accepted this gig.

  Taking a seat, she continued to smile while she sized up the NMD biggies now sitting across from her. Both appeared to be in their mid-fifties and well taken care of. When she glanced at their hands she saw that they wore matching rings, though Ms. McKay’s was smaller and more feminine than her partner’s. When Fettel brought over three more folding chairs and set them down, he and Cassandra took their places.

  “Dontcha kind of wonder who the sixth chair is for?” came a voice from beside her feet. “Reminds me of the first time Detective Demento brought us in for questioning.”

  She reached down and patted Rudy’s head. This wasn’t exactly the best time for her pouting pooch to awaken from his sulk and start talking.

  “Don’t answer any questions without the judge here, Triple E. He wouldn’t let them get the best of you.”

  She circled his muzzle with her fingers and gave a gentle squeeze.

  “Hey, I know. How about we just get up and walk outta here?” he mumbled. “What are they gonna do? Fire us?”

  Unable to think straight, she gazed at her visitors. “Would you excuse me for one minute? I have to take my dog outside to ward off an accident.” She grabbed her boy’s leash and pulled him from under the table. When he dragged his feet, she bent and picked him up. “We’ll be right back.”

  “Hold it a second. I don’t hafta do business.”

  She ducked around the corner leading to the back door. “But you do have to shut up. There’s no way I can concentrate with you sticking your two cents into the conversation.”

  He gave a doggie grin. “My comments are worth more than that, and you know it.”

  “You do realize they’re here because they want you to be Cassandra’s dog in the show on Friday.”

  “Hah!” Rudy struggled to get out of her arms. “I’m no swishy canine. No way they’re gonna get me to wear those sissy designer duds.”

  Ellie set him on the floor. “And you don’t want to help Cassandra or Ranger?”

  He scratched his hindquarter. “No.”

  “Not even to get your face in a magazine or newspaper?”

  “Nope.”

  “How about a cover?”

  “A cover?” He perked up his ears. “A cover of what?”

  Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know, but with so many of the big fashion magazine editors sitting out there I’m sure one of them will give this contest a cover. Heck, NMD could already have that worked out. If you and Kitty won, there’d have to be some recognition.”

  “Me and Kitty?”

  “Yes, you and Kitty. Cassandra is her model, but Kitty would be the winner of the contest.”

  “Oh, I—uh—forgot about that.”

  “It’s really Kitty that you’d be helping. If they fired Cassandra, Kitty would need to start all over again. Remeasuring, redesigning, doing all the work that goes with creating one of those sample outfits for a new model. She’s already at a disadvantage, coming into this on the second day. Working with a canine model who’s a stranger could make it worse.”

  “I didn’t think about that.”

  “Tomorrow is an off day, to give the designers a chance to complete the set of third outfits for each model, and sew one that matches for their dogs.” When his head cocked, she decided to offer him a choice. Something she’d been thinking about all afternoon. “I do have another idea. One that might take you off the hook and give Nola Morgan Design more good publicity.”

  “Ah, okay. I’d still be happier if I didn’t have to make like a pretty boy.”

  “Great. We’ll worry about it after I give my thoughts to Nola and—”

  “Ms. Engleman?” Clark Fettel stuck his head around the corner. “Who are you talking to?”

  “Uh, no one—just myself—and my dog.”

  His eyebrows mimicked question marks. “Your dog?”

  “Yes, my dog. Do you have a problem with that?”

  He frowned. “No, of course not, but Nola and Morgan are waiting, and since they’re sponsoring this event and your paycheck, it might be nice if you paid them some attention.”

  “He’s got you there, Triple E.”

  Rudy was correct, of course. She put on a happy face. “We’re done here, so lead the way.”

  He turned and Ellie gave her boy a look. “Remember, no additional commentary. There still might be a way to get you out of this,” she whispered.

  They arrived in the dog area, where Nola and Morgan had helped themselves to bottled water and energy bars. Ellie took a seat and Rudy stationed himself at her feet. Since the two bosses looked so approachable, she decided to pour on a little charm. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for giving me the chance to be a part of this event,” she began. “It’s very exciting to be in at the start of something this huge.”

  “Patti Fallgrave spoke so highly of you, we had no choice but to take her suggestion,” said Morgan. He glanced at Clark. “I believe you already know about our problem with Cassandra and her dog.”

  “I’m aware of it, yes.”

  “But we’ve come up with an idea that might work, if you and your own dog are agreeable.” He went on to ask if she would allow Rudy to be Cassandra’s canine for the finale. “We’d be sure to mention your dog-walking service in future ads as a thank-you. Or would you want an additional fee?”

  “Gosh, no. You’ve already taken care of that. I just have one worry.”

  “And that would be . . .”

  “My boy isn’t a purebred. He’s a pound puppy, and the ASPCA could only guess his lineage.”

  Nola bent forward and chucked Rudy under the chin. “And what do they think he is?

  “A yorkiepoo. That’s half Poodle—”

  “And half Yorkshire terrier. I thought so. He looks a lot like my own little man.” She sniffed back a tear. “I lost Eddie six months ago, but it seems like yesterday. The feelings are still so raw, I haven’t been able to replace him.”

  Morgan patted her hand. “So you see, we’re in sympathy with Cassandra’s feelings, but we know it will also put Ms. King in a bind. There really isn’t time to search for another small dog that’s agreeable and at ease with both the women.”

  “There is one altern
ative,” said Ellie. Seeing Yasmine earlier had made her think of it. “With Lilah Perry gone, her dog, Klingon, is an orphan.”

  “What a frightful name,” said Nola, shuddering. “Though it does match Lilah’s personality.”

  “I guess that means you knew her fairly well?” said Ellie.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” she answered. “And we didn’t much care for—”

  “Now, Nola, that isn’t professional,” her partner interrupted.

  “I know, but this isn’t a public outing. And anyone who knew her will tell you the same thing.” The CEO leaned back in her chair. “Knowing Lilah had a fresh mouth and a nasty way of treating others, I wasn’t surprised when Jeffery accused her of thievery. But he had no proof, so we had to go with the designs that were submitted, and hers were definitely at the top of the list. When we saw what happened onstage, we were more than happy to give Kitty a chance to prove herself.”

  “But what do you think about Jeffery King being accused of killing Ms. Perry?” asked Ellie.

  “Jeffery? We believe he’s innocent.” Nola clutched Morgan’s hand. “That’s another thing we need to discuss.”

  “Hey, aren’t we gettin’ a little off topic here?”

  Ellie bit her lower lip. She didn’t like the sound of Nola’s last sentence and decided to wrap things up as fast as possible. “So, Cassandra, do you think you could work with Lilah’s dog? He seemed sweet and easy to handle. Call Yasmine and ask her about him, why don’t you?”

  Cassandra exhaled a breath. “Okay, yes. I have her number, and I’ll call her tonight. If she thinks Klingon will walk the runway with me, I’ll use him. In a way, it will be a tribute to Lilah. That should make Nola Morgan Design look sympathetic in the press, don’t you think?”

  “Exactly,” Clark Fettel agreed. “Stellar promotion for NMD. We’re honoring Lilah Perry’s memory. No one need know she was a bitch.”

  The three women gasped in tandem. “Really, Fettel, was that necessary?” asked Morgan.