by Judi McCoy
“He’s a mess,” Lucy confided. “But I’ll calm him down.”
“You mean he’s actually talked to you?”
“Sure. He’s chattered away since the moment I met him.”
“And he speaks in—in English?”
“I guess. It’s canine-speak. Why?”
She eyed her boy, the little stinker, now being returned to the pen by Julie. According to Rudy, neither Cheech nor Chong ever spoke a word. How could he lie to her like that?
“No reason. I was just wondering. So . . .” She held up the brush. “We’ll let Julie take care of Cheech while I make you beautiful. You ready?”
“Just don’t trim too much off my ears. And please don’t button the top thingy on that coat. It’s too tight. Fits me like a choke collar.”
“I see you’re talking to them again.” Julie sidled next to Ellie after dropping the last group of canines into the pen. “Learn anything interesting?”
“They’re nervous, so we need to stay calm, cool, and collected. That’ll help.”
“Got it.” Julie began brushing the Chihuahua. “He looks good, don’t you think? Should I put on his coat?”
Ellie finished trimming Lucy’s muzzle, then passed Julie Cheech’s outfit. A tingling sensation ran up her spine and she closed her eyes. The afternoon had been quiet. Too quiet. The dreaded tingle could mean only one thing.
“Hello, my darling girl,” said Georgette, breaking into her thoughts. “What have you been up to?”
“Mother, what are you doing here?” Ellie glanced at Julie and rolled her eyes, then focused on Georgette. How had her mother managed to sneak back here now, when security was supposed to be heightened? “Where are Vivian and Stanley?”
“Out front, saving me a seat, of course. We’ve been here forever. Viv insisted we take our places early, and she was correct. You should see the mob out there.”
A knot formed in Ellie’s throat. “Then maybe you ought to claim your chair. With that many people, a security guard could confiscate your seat for someone truly important.”
“But we have tickets. That would never happen,” said Georgette, her sculpted nose raised in the air. “I just wanted you to know we were here with you.” She inspected Lucy’s red coat with the black toggles, then gave Cheech a once-over. “When will you be bringing the little creatures out?”
Creatures? “They’re dogs, Mother, or canines, and I won’t be bringing them anywhere. We’re getting them ready for their fashion debut, but their owners will be in charge of taking them down the runway. Didn’t you see their posters on the walls out there?”
“I did, but I still can’t believe what I saw.”
Ellie had an idea of what her mother was going to say, but she let Georgette have her way. “And what was that?”
Her mother scanned the canine ring, stopping her perusal when she laid eyes on Rudy. “Was that your boy in the photos, mingling with all the purebreds?”
Ellie gave an internal tsk. “Of course it was. In fact, he was almost a model until they decided to use another mini Schnauzer. Rudy is very photogenic.”
“Wouldn’t he be happier spending time at one of those doggie day spas that seem to be all the rage? I hear there’s a wonderful shop on East Eighty-fifth, Canine Concierge or something, that does dog sitting.”
She took a step toward the pen and Rudy stood up straight, causing Ellie to cringe inside. There was no love lost between her self-absorbed mother and her snarky four-legged friend. With the tension mounting, she had no idea what might happen between them.
“What’s the ex-terminator doin’ here? She belongs in a padded cell,” Rudy announced.
The statement, so loud and accusing, had all the dogs eyeing her mother with interest.
Georgette continued her appraisal. “Spas are supposed to be the newest thing for canines. Your dog might enjoy it there instead of . . . here.”
“Yer kiddin’. She wants to take me to a spa?” Plopping his bottom on the floor, Rudy scratched his side with a rear leg. “Hmm. Maybe that’s not such a bad idea. It might be a nice change bein’ pampered for a while.”
Ignoring her boy, Ellie set the dressed mini Schnauzer inside the pen and Julie did the same with Cheech. “And why is it you think Rudy shouldn’t be here?”
“He is a mixed breed. Perhaps he doesn’t belong with all this canine excellence.”
Rudy jumped to four legs. “Say what!” When a few of the other dogs yipped encouragement, he gave a loud bark.
Ellie pointed a finger and raised her voice. “Quiet, all of you.” Then she scooped up the next dog, and nodded for Julie to get Dominique’s girl. Hoping her mother would take the hint, she announced, “Okay, guys, we’re on a roll now. Everyone just keep it down. We have work to do.”
Georgette spun around, took one look at Fiona Ray’s purple and orange dog creation Ellie held in her hand, and stuck out her lower lip. “What in the world is that supposed to be?”
“A designer’s idea of dog-wear that will match whatever she’s come up with for her third creation.” Ellie was not a fan of Fiona’s work, and had to agree with her mother that this outfit was too over-the-top, but Georgette’s comments weren’t helping to win over the dogs.
“Why do we gotta wear that cat poop?” asked Spike, Crystal’s French bulldog.
“Yeah, why? That thing is worse than the bunny ears and cotton tail I had to wear for Easter,” Kiki added.
Ellie raised the garment up, and Julie lifted an eyebrow. “Your mother is right. I’m not even sure how to put the darned thing on.”
“All we can do is our best,” said Ellie, nodding at Spike. “Sit still,” she said to Kiki. Then she gazed at Georgette. “Mother, you need to get out of here. You’re upsetting the dogs, and we have a lot of work to do. There’s no more time to chat.”
Georgette huffed out her displeasure. “Then I guess I’ll be going. Viv’s trying to get us invited to some big hosting spectacular that will take place when this entire event is over. I’ll see you there.”
Ellie steeled her spine as her mother flounced from the area. She was going to smack Viv if she’d managed to get her mother invited to tonight’s big NMD celebration.
“Don’t let her get to you,” advised Julie, sensing Ellie’s annoyance. “My mom would be just like yours, if she was here. Lucky for me, she’s still back in Wisconsin, probably watching this entire thing on television.”
“This is being televised?” Ellie asked, swallowing another knot of anxiety.
“You didn’t know?” Julie grinned. “Why do you think I’m all dolled up?”
Ellie gazed at her assistant, assessing her mountain of red corkscrew curls, her clean purple jeans, and her fitted black bodice, laced with sparkly jet beading. Then she held the orange and purple doggie-wear high. “I don’t mean to offend you, but you kind of match this creation of Fiona’s.”
“Golly, no,” Julie said with a shudder. She rotated the dog wear up, down, and sideways. “I’m still trying to figure out where this fifth leg is supposed to—” She bit her lower lip. “Oh, no. Really? Do you think—Good Lord, does she actually want us to slip this on over his—”
Ellie quickly slid the outfit on Spike, including the fifth leg Julie was referring to. She couldn’t imagine the practicality of taking your male dog for a walk while he wore this coat. Dogs dribbled when they did their business, and sometimes did worse. The coat would need a washing after every trip outside. It was obvious Fiona had no experience with canines.
Music sounded from the staging area and Kurt Jager welcomed the crowd. Gofers and assistants scattered as Patti and Beatriz came charging through the backstage mob, which seemed to part as if the models were holding magic wands.
“Where do you think Marcus is?” asked Ellie. In both of the earlier showings, the designers had gone out with their models.
“He knows his girls are pros,” said Julie. “Or at least Patti is, and she’ll guide that new girl. I’m sure he’s concentrati
ng on the next creation, so he’ll be ready when they get back. It’s a rat race from here until the end, with everyone aiming for the last design and its wow factor. Of course, having a four-legged friend that will ham things up could only help the designers’ chances.”
Ellie banged the heel of her right hand into her forehead. “That last design has to be flawless, and so do the dogs. Their personality has to shine through and sell the clothing, just like a model is supposed to do.” She gazed at Rudy. “Why haven’t I told them that?”
“Beats me,” he answered with a yip. “But maybe you should get Daisy and Baby ready, or that Rouch guy will throw a fit. And we sure don’t want that to happen.” He jumped over the fence in one quick leap. “Maybe I should be on the lookout for him.”
Ellie ran her fingers through her disheveled curls and squatted to face him. “Only if you promise to stay out from underfoot and don’t leave this area. And whatever you do, don’t go onstage. Think you can do that?” she asked in a whisper.
When he answered with a sneeze, she picked up the next two dogs, Baby and Daisy, and passed Baby to Julie. “Okay, we went out of order. Pair three is finished, and this is pair two. Do you have their duds?”
Ringing applause sounded from the runway, showing the crowd’s approval of Marcus David’s day wear designs. Kurt Jager continued his running commentary while Patti and Beatriz dashed back in and raced to change into the second creation.
As far as Ellie was concerned, the entire parade was a test of endurance, strategy, and focus, for both the designers and the models. Another round of applause accompanied Lawan and Kate as they snaked out and returned to go around the pen, giving Dominique and Crystal room to make their entrance in Fiona’s first design.
In between watching the models strut to the stage, she and Julie continued to groom and dress the dogs. By the time the first round of creations went through the catwalk, all the dogs were finished in style.
“If it’s okay with you, I’m taking a quick potty break,” said Julie, racing past the snack table to the restrooms.
Ellie had just managed to catch her breath when the sound of Kurt Jager’s voice broke out. “And now, Nola Morgan Design presents the second round in the competition. In this round, our talented designers give us, for your viewing pleasure, evening wear.”
Just then, a woman slipped in through the rear entrance Julie and Ellie normally used to take the dogs out. Rushing past the crowd watching Anton’s models, the girl ran to the dog area and dropped on a chair.
“Janice?” Ellie blinked. She’d completely forgotten that Patti’s younger sister was supposed to be the entertainment.
“Am I on time?” Janice croaked. Then she cleared her throat. “I cannot believe this. I think I’m coming down with something.”
“Something?” asked Ellie. “Something like what?”
Janice covered her mouth and coughed. “I don’t know. A cold maybe or a throat thing. I woke up like this, but Patti had already left, so I couldn’t tell her.” Standing, she pulled off her hip-length jacket and tossed it on a chair. Then she brushed her black suede skirt and straightened her skintight black turtleneck sweater. “How do I look?”
Assessing the fall outfit of fitted suede and cashmere, with an eye-catching Yves Saint Laurent scarf tied perfectly around the singer’s delicate neck, Ellie grinned. “You look great, just like a rising blues singer should. I have bottled water. Will that help?”
Applause filled the air and Janice turned to the catwalk entrance in time to see her sister glide back through the curtain. When she and Patti locked gazes, they sprinted toward each other and met halfway between the dog pen and the walkway.
“I was so worried. But you’re here,” said Patti.
“I know. I tried calling, but you must have turned off your cell,” said Janice at the same time.
Ellie stood, preparing to take over and keep everyone calm. “All right, you two have said your hellos. Patti, it’s time for you to get back to your station and dress for the big round.”
“Oh, God, yes, you’re right,” said the supermodel. She gazed at her sister. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound a little . . . funny. And not ha-ha funny. Kind of—of croaky.”
“She’s fine, she’s fine,” said Ellie. Turning Patti around, she shoved her in the direction of the station. “She doesn’t need to know about your possible ‘something,’” she told Janice when her sister was gone. Then she did the same with Beatriz, who looked a bit confused. “Beatriz, just follow Patti. She’s the pro, so she knows what to do. You got that?”
Beatriz nodded, but her manner was a bit too rough and tough. “I’ll give it my best, but I’m new here, remember?”
“I know, and so does Patti.” She looked at Janice. “We have a little time. How about if I fix you a cup of hot tea with honey and lemon?”
“Honey and lemon?” Janice whispered in a rattled voice. “You have that here?”
“We have everything,” said Ellie, leading her back to the row of chairs. “Julie, there’s someone you need to meet. This is Janice Fallgrave, Patti’s younger sister, and she’s here to sing. In fact, she’ll be on in—” Ellie saw Lawan and Kate leaving the catwalk and gave her best guess, “About thirty minutes. She needs hot tea with lemon and honey, so do your magic and make it happen, please.”
Julie went to work at the far end of the setup area. The catering company had arranged a professional drink bar that held tea bags, creamers, real and fake sugar, bottles of honey, cut lemons, canned whipping cream, and chocolate and cinnamon sprinkles to go with the heated pots of French roast and decaf that were brewed fresh each hour.
She sat next to Janice and patted her hand. “Have you checked anything out? Is your pianist here? Do you know where you’re singing on stage? Have you met Kurt Jager?”
Janice heaved a sigh. “My pianist is on the other side of the stage, doing his thing. We’ve worked together before, so he knows my key and the songs I’m singing. No one told me anything else, so I’m—”
Another warning tingle tripped up Ellie’s spine when Janice stopped midsentence and gazed over her head.
“Ms. Engleman,” said Clark Fettel, his voice demanding, “I should have known you’d be the one to waylay our entertainment and upset the running of the show.”
Chapter 16
Clark Fettel trundled off with a confused-looking Janice, and Ellie heaved a breath. Then she took a seat on one of the chairs, in search of a calming moment. The second round, evening wear, was almost finished. That meant the first models of the third round, Patti and Beatriz, would be there at any moment. Dressed in Marcus’s final creation, they would pick up their clothed and groomed dogs, and make their big runway entrance.
Each group of models would then strut onto the catwalk with their dogs, receiving, she imagined, a volley of oohs and aahs because the little darlings were so adorable. After each trio did their thing, the designers would be called out to join their models, which meant eight models, eight dogs, four designers, and Kurt Jager all clustered on stage for a final round of applause.
When that was over, everyone would file backstage while Janice sang to entertain the crowd. Nola and Morgan would use the time to decide which designer received the big prize and, when Janice bowed to her last number, Kurt would call everyone back and announce the winner.
To Ellie, the entire scenario was mind-boggling.
“You gonna be okay?” Rudy asked, sitting on the chair next to her.
“I’ll get through it, but it’s really important that you stay out of the way. Think you can sit here and MYOB?”
“Uhh, yeah, but I’m not gonna like it.”
“I know, and I appreciate your honesty, but please—”
Before she could finish, she spotted Patti and Beatriz, wearing their black toggled coats and dresses, marching toward her with Marcus following. She jumped to her feet and raced to the pen, where Julie was waiting. She picked up Cheech and passed him to Patti, while Julie r
etrieved Lucy, untangled her leash, and passed her to the new girl.
Ellie watched Beatriz stride behind Patti, her movements a bit awkward, her steps hesitant.
“Do you see the way she’s carrying herself? I can’t believe I got stuck with a novice,” Marcus whispered from behind her. “I begged for a more seasoned model, but Morgan wouldn’t budge. Maybe she’s his latest conquest, but she doesn’t seem the type.”
His latest conquest? There was no time to ask questions. Lawan and Kate were already in front of her, waiting for their babies, with Anton Rouch standing behind, his face grim, his mouth a thin line.
“The mutts need to wear these. I don’t care how you get them on. Just do it,” he grumbled, passing Ellie two small, round sections of cloth.
She gazed at Lawan and Kate, who wore smart-looking hats set at a jaunty angle on their head. Groaning internally, she passed a tam to Julie.
“What in the hell are we supposed to do with these?” her assistant muttered, turning the bit of cloth in her hand.
The grumpy designer continued to stare as Ellie removed Baby and Daisy from the pen and passed Baby to Julie.
“Put that on your dog and keep your fingers crossed,” she told the girl. “And be thankful you have some hair to work with.”
Unfortunately, Daisy was almost hairless, so Ellie had to anchor the hat to the Chihuahua’s ear. It was a totally impractical idea for a dog owner, especially one whose pet was near bald, and it only showed how little Anton cared about dressing a canine.
“Be good,” Ellie told Daisy, once the clip was set. “That’s all I can do. It’ll only pinch for a bit; then we’ll take it off.”
Daisy gave a full-body shake and her tam dropped to hang off her ear. Ellie bent to refasten it and the Chihuahua yipped.
“Hey, watch it with that clip. It’s pulling my ear out.”
She gave another shake and the hat went flying. Anton rushed to rescue it, but it was too late. Beatriz stepped on the hat as she made her way off the stage, slipped on the tam, and fell on her backside.
