CHAPTER 34
LAILA
Lexi kept shooting concerned glances in my direction as we drove to the venue.
“I’m fine, Lexi. Keep your eyes on the road.”
Lexi drummed her fingers on the wheel before reaching into her cupholder and grabbing a pepperoni stick and a square of cheddar cheese from a plastic baggie. She popped both in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Just concerned about my friend. Sue me.”
“Like I said, I’m fine. There’s nothing to be concerned about.”
“You look tired.”
“Gee, thanks. That’s just what a girl wants to hear before she walks a runway in front of millions of people. You’re the best.”
Lexi chewed the inside of her cheek.
I rubbed my forehead. “I’m sorry. All this stuff with Storm and the press just has me on edge. When tonight is over it will get better. Right?”
“Don’t ask me. I have no idea. But I’ll be here, okay? We’ll get through it, whatever happens.” She nodded down at the baggie in the cupholders between us. “Pepperoni stick? The agency will never know, and it might just give you the energy you need to get through the show.”
My stomach growled, betraying my hunger.
Lexi made eyes at the bag one more time and I caved to temptation, grabbing a pepperoni stick and a piece of cheese and nibbling at them like a rodent, trying to make it last the rest of the drive to the venue.
When we arrived, we were flagged down by coordinators who knew we were coming. They ushered us into the closed underground parking away from prying eyes and the paparazzi. Thank God for Cupid’s Arrows thinking things all the way through and being prepared for the worst. They knew how to be proactive and look out for their girls, and that meant a lot to all of us.
Lexi parked the car and helped get my bags out of the trunk. We made our way upstairs and backstage through winding corridors that eventually led to a green room of sorts, where I was immediately dragged to a chair for hair and makeup.
Lexi put my bags by my station and straightened. “I’ll be out front waiting for the show to start. If you need me, call me. Okay? I’ll have my phone on me the whole time.”
“Thank you, Lexi.”
“You got it.” She gave me a one-armed hug, which earned her a death wish of a glare from the hairstylist who was already trying to brush through my locks. “Oh, and Laila? Break a leg and have a fucking blast. That’s your runway up there. Own the shit out of it, yeah?”
I grinned. “Promise.”
The next hour passed in a blur. People fussed all around me, putting on my makeup and fixing my hair, while the design and wardrobe teams made sure all my outfits were at my station and ready to go. I had two assistants assigned to me to help with outfit changes between walks, and we’d gotten it down to a science yesterday at rehearsals. However, there was always room for something to go wrong, and we had to make sure we were alert and ready to go.
The hour before the show started, my nerves kicked into overdrive.
My feet went totally numb, which happened almost every time I walked the runway. Luckily, it worked to my advantage because the heels they had me wearing were terribly uncomfortable. Once I was in my first outfit with my hair and makeup finished, I was given a silky red robe to cover up, and I sat in my chair, waiting for the action to begin.
Within minutes, the first incident occurred.
Jennika spotted me lounging in my red robe and hurried over like a nosy neighbor.
“Hey, girlie,” she said, her voice sweeter than usual, “you look absolutely gorgeous. I love the big tousled curls on you.”
A dozen thoughts raced through my mind all at once. The first?
She’s being fake.
Us lady folk had a way of detecting such things, and I knew in the core of my being that Jennika was putting on a show. I also knew that I didn’t want to participate, and I certainly didn’t want her to think I was fazed by her little social media stunt last night. I still didn’t know what it meant or what the implications would be, but I’d made peace with the fact that it had happened, and I would not be jumping to any conclusions.
I had made space in my heart and mind to wait and talk to Storm to hear what he had to say.
That was how my mother would have handled this crisis.
So I smiled at Jennika. “You look beautiful, too. How do you feel? Ready? Nervous?”
Jennika hesitated before laughing lightly. “Oh, I don’t get nervous anymore. Do you?”
“Sometimes. Today I am.”
“Really? Pfft, girl, you have nothing to worry about.”
Jennika never talked like this. She was dropping way too many pet names and trying to make nice. I wondered if she regretted what she did last night and the social media shit storm it had caused. Had she spared a second thought for Storm? Did it occur to her at any point that this might screw him over? The board was probably furious with him, and he was probably bailing out buckets of water from his sinking ship. They already didn’t have faith in him.
What would they think of him now?
A woman’s voice called over the crowded backstage area. “All right, ladies! First walk is in T minus twenty minutes! Make sure you’re ready to hit that catwalk as soon as the lights come up. This is the big night. Millions of people are watching from the comfort of their homes. No pressure, but don’t fuck this up!”
The models cheered.
The energy rumbled backstage and my nerves morphed into excitement. Nothing made me feel more powerful than walking the runway, and I needed some of that power desperately right now. It would help me get my head on straight.
“I’d better go to my spot,” Jennika said, patting my shoulder affectionately. “See you out there.”
“See you.”
Once I was left in peace, I abandoned my chair and got into position to hit the runway. Me and a dozen other models had the same idea, and we lined up in order at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the runway. My heart thundered in my chest and my blood rushed in my ears. My whole body felt invigorated, and it was as if every nerve that made me, well me, was singing my name.
Bring it on.
A handful of newer models rushed about, desperately looking for a missing piece of their outfit while their designers frantically scoured makeup tables.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The next eighteen or so minutes would pass slowly.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself staring into a pair of electric green ones.
I blinked. “Storm?”
It was him. What was he doing here? How had he convinced them to let him backstage? And were the flowers in his hands for me or Jennika?
Storm looked incredibly handsome in his dark blue suit. It made his eyes pop even more. The shirt underneath was a darker shade of blue, adding subtle contrast, and I had the sudden urge to smooth out the collar, even though it wasn’t wrinkled.
I just wanted a reason to touch him.
He grinned. “I had to see you before you went on. How do you feel?”
I looked around. Jennika stood near the front of the line, watching us with narrowed eyes.
“Um, good,” I said. “How do you feel?”
He chuckled. “Excellent. I feel excellent. But I’m not the one who has to walk in front of millions of people. I just wanted to wish you luck. These are for you.” He held out the flowers, a beautiful, sweeping, masterfully made bouquet of roses, greenery, and baby’s breath. “And I have one more surprise. Your sister and your dad are out there.”