She laughed. “We run a very tight ship.”
“Then what will I do? I can’t fail. Not now. I do have another dress. It’s a little… different.”
Her face was furrowed, but I could tell by how her eyes were darting back and forth she was thinking. Then it was as if a lightbulb went off inside her magical, brilliant mind.
“The dress you were telling me about?” she asked, excitement in her voice.
“Yes, why?” It dawned on me. “No, not a chance.”
“Yes, you can do it. This is your design.” She was already pulling me toward my small dressing area, keeping her voice holding the calm that I’d grown to adore.
“Yes, but…”
“No buts. All you need to do is to walk down the runway, pose, scan the audience and smile with your head held high, make some eye contact with the right people, and walk back. There’s nothing to it.”
“No offense, but how would you know?” As soon as the stupid question was out of my mouth I groaned. “You were a model.”
“For over twenty years. Come on. Let me help you get ready. I’ll give you a few more pointers.”
“I’m going to be sick,” I moaned as she dragged me along.
“No, you are not. You are a brilliant designer, an extremely beautiful woman, and if those two amazing attributes weren’t enough, you have fire in your belly. So show the world what Rafaela can do.”
I gripped her arm, avoiding panicking. “Okay. Let’s do this, but I’m going to need your help.”
A huge smile crossed her face. “Lift your arms.”
Horror pooled in my stomach and I almost doubled over. “Make sure my hair covers my back. Okay?”
Fleur was one of the few people who’d heard about my horrors. She’d become my den mother of sorts, taking me under her wing more than once. She knew my secret when I’d kept as much of my past as possible from everyone else. In her eyes, I saw the same sadness I felt in mine, but also the same anger I’d felt for years.
She wouldn’t hesitate to give my father not only a piece of her mind but also a lasting memory regarding anguish. “Don’t worry, honey. You’ll be beautiful.”
The woman was a miracle worker. Not only did she have me dressed, helping with a couple of alterations needed, but she also had hidden talents, her quick hairstyle and makeup creating an entirely different person.
When she was finished, I stood in front of the mirror, my chest aching from the crush of suffocation. I was shocked, fanning myface in some ridiculous attempt to keep from crying and ruining the makeup.
“You are an artist, Fleur. Thank you so much.”
“It helps when you have the perfect canvas to start. You look amazing.”
The song playing was one I knew well, selected to be used for four girls hitting the runway before the group with Valerie. “Oh, God. I can’t do this.” I peered down at Golden Angel while gripping the edge of the table.
“Yes, you can. Take your dog with you.”
“Are you kidding? They’ll crucify me. Can you just imagine? But I don’t know if I can do this without her. Why, oh, why?” I loathed the feeling of terror, of my past always crushing down on my future.
She lifted a single eyebrow. “No, I think taking Golden Angel with you will bring down the house. You have nothing to lose.”
The next song began to play and if I didn’t get in line, my professors would be furious.
“Baby girl. Time to make your debut as the next greatest model.” I laughed to try to ease the tension while grabbing her leash. How perfect that I’d purchased a new collar and leash with colors matching the festive dress I was wearing. Maybe I could pull this off. Maybe.
As soon as I moved into position behind the curtains, one of my professors noticed me.
“What are you doing?” Ms. Devane asked in her heavy French accent. Her look of disdain when seeing Golden Angel pissed me off instantly.
“My model was sick. The show had to go on.”
