Immortal in Death (In Death #3)(80)

“I’m just going to — “

“Please. It would mean a lot if you were wearing one of his designs out front. It’s a simple line, Dallas. And I’ll find some shoes that fit you somewhere.”

Fifteen minutes later, with her torn clothes stuffed in her bag, Eve spotted Roarke in the front row. He was applauding politely as a trio of large-breasted models jiggled wildly in transparent rompers.

“Great. Just what we want to see women wearing when they walk down Fifth.”

Roarke lifted a shoulder. “Actually, a great many of his designs are very attractive. And I wouldn’t mind seeing you in that number on the right.”

“Keep dreaming.” She crossed her legs and the flow of black satin over them whispered in response. “How long do we have to stay?”

“Until the bitter end. When did you buy this?” He ran a fingertip over the narrow straps draped over her biceps.

“I didn’t. Mavis made me put it on. It’s one of his without the frills.”

“Keep it. It suits you.”

She only grunted. Her torn jeans suited her mood a great deal better. “Ah, here comes the diva.”

Jerry glided out, and at each step of her dainty glass shoes, the runway exploded into color. Eve paid little attention to the billowing balloon skirt and sheer bodice that caused such a furor of approval from the attendees. She watched Jerry’s face, and only her face as fashion critics murmured busily into their recorders and dozens of buyers ordered frantically from their porta-links.

Jerry’s face was serene as she waved aside dozens of muscular young men who prostrated themselves in front of her. She sold the outfit with graceful twists and turns and clever choreography that had her stepping nimbly onto a pyramid of hard male bodies.

The crowd applauded. Jerry posed, then aimed icy blue eyes at Eve.

“Ouch,” Roarke murmured. “I’d say that was a direct hit. Is there something I should know?”

“She’d like to rip my face off,” Eve said mildly. “My mission has been a success.” Satisfied, she sat back and prepared to enjoy the rest of the show.

“Did you see? Dallas, did you see?” After a quick pirouette, Mavis threw her arms around Eve. “At the finale they actually stood up for him. Even Hugo.”

“Who the hell is Hugo?”

“He’s only the biggest name in the business. He co-sponsored the show, but that was with Pandora. If he’d pulled out — well, he didn’t, thanks to Jerry stepping in. Leonardo’s on his way. He can pay back his debts. The orders are already pouring in. He’ll have his own showroom now, and in a few months, there’ll be Leonardo’s everywhere.”

“That’s great then.”

“Everything’s working out.” Mavis fussed with her face in the mirror of the ladies’ lounge. “I have to find another gig, and I’ll wear his designs exclusively. Things are going to go back to the way they should be. They are, aren’t they, Dallas?”

“They’re heading that way. Mavis, did Leonardo go to Jerry Fitzgerald, or the other way around?”

“For the show? He went to her originally. Pandora suggested it.”

Wait, Eve thought, how did I miss this step? “Pandora wanted him to ask Jerry to model in his show?”

“It was just like her.” On impulse, Mavis took out a tube and removed her lip dye. She studied her naked mouth a moment, then chose a container of Berry Crush. “She knew Jerry wouldn’t play second lead, not to her, even though there was a lot of good buzz about the designs. So asking her was a kind of dig, you know. She could say yes, and take the backseat, or say no and miss being in one of the hottest shows of the season.”

“And she said no.”

“Made out like she had previous commitments. Saving face. But the minute Pandora was out of the picture, she called Leonardo and offered to fill in.”

“How much will she make?”

“For the show? She’ll get about a mil, but that’s nothing. The headliner gets to pick her fashions at a wholesaler’s discount, an endorsement fee for each wearing. Then there’s the media clause.”

“Which is?”

“Well, the big models get it to go on the fashion channels, the talk channels and all that. They get to pump up the designs and get paid for the appearances. Exposure and big bucks for the next six months, with an option to renew. She could rake in five, six mil plus bennies from this one appearance.”

“Nice work if you can get it. She profits in excess of six million from Pandora’s death.”

“You could look at it that way. It’s not as if she was hurting before, Dallas.”

“Maybe not. But she sure as hell isn’t hurting now. She’ll put in an appearance at this postshowing party?”

“Sure. She and Leonardo are the stars. We’d better get out there if we want any food. Those fashion critics are like hyenas. They don’t even leave bones.”

“You’ve been around Jerry and the others for a while now,” Eve began as they made their way back to the ballroom. “Anybody using?”

“Jesus, Dallas.” Uncomfortable, Mavis shrugged. “I’m not a weasel.”

“Mavis.” Eve tugged her into an alcove resplendent with potted ferns. “Don’t take that line with me. Is anyone using?”