Evening Bags and Executions(83)

Bella has absolutely got to get into beauty school soon.

“Wow, that’s really something,” I said, and walked over.

She expertly twisted the model’s red hair into a—oh my God, I think that’s a crow—and gave me a broad smile.

“You just wait until I get my training done and get my hands on all those celebrities,” Bella said. “The red carpet will never be the same.”

She hit the model’s hair with enough spray to freeze the space shuttle on the launch pad, then said, “You’re done. Go get your makeup.”

The model smiled and moved on.

All I could figure was that these girls were desperate for money.

Bella patted the chair. “Hop in, Haley, you’re next.”

Yikes!

“I got an idea for a scarecrow,” Bella said.

I didn’t really want my hair twisted into the shape of a scarecrow—or anything else, for that matter—but Bella was my friend, so I decided, what the heck?

“Better make it quick,” I said. “The show is starting soon.”

She glanced at her watch and said, “Damn. You’re right. Don’t worry, though, I’ll save it for Halloween.”

Bella and I moved to the racks where we’d assembled each runway look and started handing them out to the models. There was a lot of chatter and some laughter. I guess the girls were happy to have the work, regardless of the circumstances.

“Do you think customers are going to buy any of this stuff?” Bella asked, as she handed a fuchsia and purple plaid pantsuit to one of the models.

I figured this campaign to launch their fall clothing line had cost Holt’s a fortune, so I was sure they’d advertised the heck out of it. I hoped, for Ty’s sake, it would be a success.

“Knowing our customers, they’ll buy two of everything,” I said, and thrust a navy blue dress with orange cap sleeves and patch pockets at the next model who walked by.

“We’ll sell lots of stuff,” Bella predicted. “Everybody in the audience will be looking at my hairstyles, not the clothes.”

“How’s it going?” Jeanette asked as she walked up. She eyed the emerald green and burnt orange polka-dot dress Bella was holding. “That is a smart-looking dress. I would wear that with those turquoise and orange pumps we just got in. What do you think?”

I thought I might get sick.

“We’re kind of busy here, Jeanette,” I said. “Did you need something?”

I know that was sort of rude, but handling all these dust-rags-in-the-making was starting to get to me.

“We’ve got a packed house,” Jeanette said, smiling proudly. “Our store could very well win this contest.”

I’m sure the potential boost to her quarterly bonus was living large in her head, but I didn’t say so.

“And you know what that means,” Jeanette said in a singsong voice.

It would mean that I’d be the fashion coordinator who would work at the Holt’s corporate office—which I didn’t even want to think about right now.

“Ten minutes until the show starts,” she said, glancing at her watch.

She went into a spiel about how she’d do the welcome speech—which turned into blah, blah, blah—then left.

“That’s the last one,” Bella said, as a model wearing a mustard yellow swing coat covered with crocheted red, orange, and brown leaves left the dressing area.

“Let’s line up,” I said, motioning the models toward the stock room doors.

The order in which models walked the runway at the major fashion events was crucial, but here at Holt’s I went with smallest to tallest.

I stood back and assessed the looks Bella and I had put together. Considering what we’d had to work with, I decided it could have been worse.

Things can always be worse.

The mumble of the audience assembled outside on the sales floor grew louder, and I wondered why Jeanette hadn’t started the show yet. I slipped out of the stock room and walked through the screened-off area the workmen had built to keep the audience from seeing the fashions before they hit the runway—maybe corporate had feared a sneak peek might result in a stampede that would injure customers and bring on lawsuits.

I stepped up onto the little stage that had been built and peeked out. Wow, Jeanette hadn’t been kidding—the place was packed.

The workmen had set up two rows of chairs facing the runway, and every seat was taken. People were standing behind them, three deep. Most of them were young women dressed in really nice clothes. Jeez, what were they doing in Holt’s?

I spotted Jeanette heading toward the stage just as my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I whipped it out and saw that Rigby was calling.