The modeling industry had changed so much since she began years ago. Social media played a big part in the evolution. Models were being scouted and discovered on Instagram or TikTok. Ginny had even launched a social media division in her company to search for the next fresh face. Models were now their own marketers, using their accounts to generate interest. Earning power was no longer contingent on how many covers a model graced or how many runways they walked. It was how many Twitter or other platform followers they collected.
Competition for modeling jobs was fierce. There had always been a rivalry between movie and television stars. They were known commodities, and if a company or designer could get them to wear or promote their product, they would spend advertising dollars there instead of hiring a professional model. With the rise of social media, advertisers looked at different means of getting their product to the mainstream. People with hundreds of thousands of followers were suddenly more appealing than traditional models. Influencers they were called, and they sported hefty fan bases. It forced models to become social media experts, too.
One of Brooklyn’s goals for the show was to give the women exposure through her accounts, as well as those of the network and the sponsors. The impact could be huge for their success. Brooklyn’s career would’ve been very different if she had to start now. When social media took off, she’d hired someone to handle her various accounts, and Carson had been with her for years. He kept her platforms active when she didn’t have time to post.
Gage was dressed and waiting for her in the kitchen when she stepped off the elevator. He looked mouthwateringly delicious in a light-blue button-down shirt that brought out the color of his eyes and gray pants. The sleeves hugged his impressive muscles, and she remembered how they felt wrapped around her body.
“You look beautiful,” he said, making her realize she’d been staring at him for who knew how long.
“Thanks. You sure you want to sit in the room all day and listen to the women list the reasons why they want to be a model?” So as not to arouse suspicion, she’d explained to Kaycee, Jax and the crew that Gage was interested in learning about the production of the show, so she’d invited him to sit in on the interviews and accompany her to Fontana Island.
“I’ve got my laptop, so I’ll have plenty of work.”
They entered the same ballroom from last night. It’d been transformed into an interview area. Off to one side, tables were set up with a selection of breakfast items. The caterer would keep it fresh all day, switching to a lunch menu and then dinner.
She and Gage both chose muffins and fruit to munch on while they chatted with the staff. She introduced him to people he hadn’t yet met.
“Brooklyn.”
She turned to see Carson Phelan rushing toward her. He grabbed her hands. “Are you okay after what happened last night?”
Brooklyn’s eyes widened. “You heard about it?”
“Hon, everyone did. You’re blowing up.” He lifted his phone and punched buttons before turning the screen for Brooklyn to see. A video played of Gage wrapping his body around her and practically carrying her to safety. “It looks like Brooklyn Fontana’s hunky new boyfriend would do anything to protect her,” the headline read.
“We were caught up in a shooting.”
“Yeah. Maurice Massey was the target. We need to get the word out that you’re okay.” He positioned her against the wall and taped a short video to assure everyone that she was fine and sending prayers to the victims and their families. Carson’s fingers flew over the keys as he posted the message to her various accounts.
Jax and Kaycee appeared, and by the matching looks of worry on their faces, she knew they’d also seen the video. Jax hugged her.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I saw the news last night, but I did not know you were involved,” Kaycee said.
“Our driver was one of the casualties.”
Stella arrived, looking frazzled as usual. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“It was late. Stella, I need you to get Rico Pena’s information. He worked for the car service we use. I want to send his family something. And find out about his funeral arrangements, too. We need to send flowers.”
“On it.”
“We need to go get pretty,” Kaycee informed them.
“We’ll talk more later,” Jax promised.
Brooklyn waved goodbye to Gage and headed to the area designated for hair and makeup. Once they finished, they took their seats at the judging table.
Clark Hardy entered the room with headphones around his neck and a clipboard in his hand. “Okay, everyone. Showtime.”
Brooklyn adjusted the notes in front of her. Along with iPads that held photos taken when the women arrived yesterday, they each had hard copies of the contestants’ bios.
Brooklyn’s blood was pumping. This show was her baby, and it was coming to fruition. She glanced at Gage. He was sitting in a corner, out of the way of the camera crews. Just seeing his face gave her strength. She was coming to depend on him. He grounded her.
“The first woman is Alease Beal,” Peggy Watts, the contestant coordinator, announced. Brooklyn flipped to her bio and skimmed the pages. She’d read them thoroughly and highlighted tidbits to bring up with each woman.
A beautiful woman with ebony skin and long black hair entered with a million-dollar smile. “Oh my gosh, I’m so excited to be here. You’re so stunning, Ms. Fontana,” she gushed.
“Thank you. Tell us your name, age, and where you’re from.”
“My name’s Alease Beal. I’m nineteen from Montgomery, Alabama.”
“What made you try out for the show, Alease?”
She tossed her arms out to the side adorably. “I’ve wanted to be a model since I was little. It’s my dream.”
“You have the legs for it,” Kaycee said. “Let’s see your runway walk.”
Alease glided forward. Her gait wasn’t terrible, but she could use some fine-tuning. Her posture was good.
“Let’s see you in your swimsuit,” Jax said.
“She looks like a model,” Brooklyn noted when she left to change.
“With a few tweaks, her walk will be good,” Kaycee agreed.
Alease returned and modeled a red and white bikini. Her legs looked a mile long.
The next contestant was a blonde with long hair she constantly tossed over her shoulders like she was auditioning for a shampoo commercial.
“Why did you apply for the show, Crystal?”
“Everyone has told me I’m so beautiful my whole life, and they said I should be a model, so here I am.”
“Is this something you want, or are you just doing it because people said you should?” Kaycee asked.
Crystal looked perplexed. “Well, both. Of course, I want it,” Crystal assured them. “I think it’d be a kick. I mean, with this face, I’m destined to be a star. None of the other girls here are anywhere close to as gorgeous as I am.”
Brooklyn slashed a line through her name. Arrogance wasn’t attractive.
The next woman who entered had hair as shiny and black as a raven’s wing and light-green eyes.
“Striking,” Jax murmured.
“My name’s Olathe Lovett,” she said. “I’m twenty-one from Window Rock, Arizona.”
“What a pretty name,” Brooklyn said.
“How do you pronounce it again?” Jax asked.
“Oh-lay-thuh. It’s Native American for lovely or beautiful,” she informed them.
“Well, it suits you,” Brooklyn assured her. “Why did you try out to be on the show, Olathe?”
“I’ve wanted to be a model as long as I can remember. Also, I want to be a role model to younger girls and represent the Native American culture and my Navajo tribe.”
“Did you make the dress you’re wearing?” Kaycee asked.
“My shimásání, or grandmother, sewed it for me.”
She returned in her bathing suit and looked incredible. Br
ooklyn added a star by her name.
The next girl sauntered in, throwing up her hands. “Stop the auditions right now. I’m your next supermodel.”
Another red line.
After three more contestants who weren’t up to par, another woman scurried inside, covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m so happy to be here.”
“We’re happy to have you. What’s your name, and where are you from?”
“My name’s Nari Kim, and I’m twenty-two from Spokane, Washington.”
“What do you like most about yourself?”
She thought about the question for a minute. “I’d have to say my compassion. I always champion the underdog.”
“What about your weakness?”
“As a Korean-American, I’ve always felt like my ears were too big.”
The next girl stomped in, looking like Paul Bunyan’s daughter. Her gait was heavy, and she bobbed her head forward like a turkey strutting down the runway, but she took lovely, androgynous pictures. Designers were always looking for quirky, and she fit the bill. Still, she was a work in progress. Brooklyn wasn’t sure two weeks was enough time to mold her into a model.
The next woman who entered announced herself as Rubi Hewett. She was plus-sized, with skin the color of espresso and kind brown eyes.
“What made you sign up for this show?” Brooklyn asked.
“I want to represent the women who aren’t skin and bones. I’ve got extra padding, and I’m fine with it.” She slapped her backside. “I don’t think you have to be skinny to be beautiful.”
“I completely agree,” Brooklyn stated. “Why do you think we should pick you?”
“I’ve got the complete package,” she boasted, not arrogantly. “I’m smart, athletic, and I’m willing to do what it takes to make it in this business. You won’t find anyone who will work harder than me.”
“Fifteen-minute break,” Clark Hardy announced after Rubi left.
Brooklyn stood and stretched her muscles. She felt optimistic that they would find the diamond in the rough—the woman who would be the next supermodel and represent her brand. They’d seen several candidates already who would work.
Once they were reseated, the next girl breezed in. “My name is Hazel Castillo, and I’m ready to be America’s next Latina supermodel.”
“Why should we pick you?” Kaycee asked.
“I can do it all. You want a runway model? I’m her. You want someone to pose for pictures? That’s me. You have a commercial you need shot? Hit me up. I’m adaptable, and I’m willing to do anything to get the perfect picture.”
The next woman clomped inside looking like a foal that had just been born—she was all gangly arms and legs. Her long red hair was the color of a California sunset. Brooklyn longed to work with her, but once again, she feared there wasn’t enough time to get the job done.
A woman with long brown hair strutted inside, all swagger and attitude. Her sneer instantly set off Brooklyn’s internal alarms. “Name, age, and city?
“I’m Tisha. I’m twenty-two from Jersey.”
“What brought you here today, Tisha?” Kaycee asked.
“A friend bet me I couldn’t make it on the show. I wanted to win the fifty bucks. Plus, I’ve always been known as the mean girl. I wanted to set the record straight on national television.”
“Why are you a mean girl?” Jax asked.
Tisha shrugged a shoulder. “I got into a lot of fights in high school, and I was suspended several times.”
Thick red line through her name. They didn’t need the drama.
The next woman was a bubbly blonde named Genie Kerns. She’d been a former gymnast until a growth spurt added eight inches to her frame. She now stood at five-ten, and her photos looked editorial. Brooklyn wasn’t sure if she was a model or just a pretty girl.
A redhead with sparkling green eyes and dimples entered. “Hi, all. I’m Jessie Park from Green Bay, Wisconsin, and I’m twenty.”
“Hi, Jessie,” Brooklyn greeted. “What made you try out for the show?”
“I’ve loved you since I was little, Ms. Fontana. I saw your ad for Stratus Shoes in a magazine, and from then on, I copied all of your poses.” She did an excellent replication of one of Brooklyn’s stances for the footwear company.
“Your bio said you weren’t able to play sports growing up.”
“That’s right. My family has a history of heart problems, and my mom was extra cautious. I was diagnosed with a heart murmur when I was little, but it never affected me.”
The rest of the day passed with more models filtering through, some good, some not. Throughout the process, Brooklyn’s eyes strayed to Gage. She was aware of him the entire time. He didn’t seem to pay much attention to the interviews, but she could tell he was aware of what was happening inside the room.
They broke for a lunch of sandwiches, salads, and an assortment of desserts. After she filled her plate, she made her way to Gage and took a seat beside him. “Have you been incredibly bored?”
“Nah, it hasn’t been bad. I’m getting work done, too.”
She took a bite of a delicious turkey on whole wheat before noticing Gage munched on the same sandwich. Not surprising that they had similar tastes in food. They chatted while they ate, and all too soon, it was time to retake her seat. Once auditions resumed, the time flew by.
After all the women had been interviewed, Brooklyn, Jax, and Kaycee compared notes and discussed bios and photos to determine the twenty who would move on to the next round. Most of the picks were unanimous, with a few being debated among the trio.
Once confident of their picks, they headed to the rooftop deck, where the thirty women anxiously awaited. Brooklyn adjusted her earpiece as they stepped off the elevator. Jax would feed her the names of the women they selected.
Lights had been strung all around, with tiki torches providing additional illumination. Manhattan spread out from all directions, including views of the Hudson River, and a strong wind added a bite to the air.
The women cheered boisterously when the judges appeared. Brooklyn hated to disappoint the ten women who didn’t make the cut. She stopped in front of them and waited for Clark Hardy to give her the signal to begin.
“Thank you all for trying out for the inaugural season of Supermodel Search. The response has been overwhelming, and the level of talent has far exceeded our expectations. It wasn’t easy narrowing it down to the twenty who will compete for ten available spots. Without further ado, and in no particular order, the first woman who will be in the running for a chance to be the next supermodel is…Olathe Lovett.”
Olathe covered her mouth and then accepted a hug from Jessie Park. She looked shellshocked as she took her spot on the stage.
“Next is Nari Kim.”
Nari gasped and rushed forward to take her spot, eagerly hugging Olathe.
“Terica Burr.”
She jumped up and down and joined the others, soon followed by Alease Beal and Genie Kerns.
Brooklyn called the rest of the names, including Carmelina Heinz, Jessie Park, and Hazel Castillo. They selected two plus-sized women, Rubi Hewitt and Rose Cooper. When there was only one spot remaining, she studied the eleven women in front of her. Several were openly crying. Others looked devastated. A couple looked like they couldn’t believe their name hadn’t been called already.
“The final contestant is…Amber Waters.”
Amber cried out and lifted her hands in the air. “Thank you, Jesus.” She hurried to join the others.
Brooklyn made her way to the ones who didn’t make the cut. “Remember what I said. I saw something in every one of you. Just because this is the conclusion of your time here, it doesn’t mean it’s the end of your journey. Keep working hard. I believe in each of you. If it’s your dream, never give up.”
Several of the women clapped and agreed, stating they wouldn’t quit. She wondered if any would try out again for the next show—assuming the network picked it up for a second season.
All she wanted to do was find Gage and bask in his comfort. She hated telling the contestants that they hadn’t been selected. Each one deserved a shot, but there were only so many spaces available.
#
Gage sat inconspicuously in the corner of the room that had been designated for interviews. It was the perfect vantage point to keep an eye on Brooklyn and anyone who entered, but it was still out of camera range. He was also out of the flight path of the crew, who hustled to arrange lights, equipment, and microphones. One long table in the front had been set up where Brooklyn would sit with Jax Joiner on one side and Kaycee Norwood on the other. Kaycee was a stunning former supermodel who looked like she could pass as Tyra Banks’s twin. She and Brooklyn were good friends, and Kaycee would teach the women how to own the runway like a boss—her description.
It was interesting to watch the production of a television program from behind the scenes, but he’d seen it before. Three of his coworkers’ wives owned TKO Productions. He’d watched the filming of Kaitlyn Colton’s healthy cooking show and Reed “Abs of” Steele’s home renovation program. He wished Brooklyn could’ve used TKO Productions for her show.
People were running around, moving cameras into place, adjusting microphones, and checking the lighting and sound, among other aspects of the production. Brooklyn and Kaycee had spent a long time in the area designated for hair and makeup. When they emerged, they both looked like successful supermodels. Jax had spent time there, too. His platinum hair stood up in artful spikes, and if Gage wasn’t mistaken, he was also wearing foundation and black eyeliner.
Dressed to Kill (COBRA Securities Book 22) Page 9
