Page 19 of Legally Yours

It’s my turn. I walk onstage, posture straight, chin up and exuding confidence.You are the queen.

I begin my model’s walk down the runway, display the design I’m wearing, then return to the stage. I hear lots of cheering and applause.

When I go in, I don’t look at Emma. I don’t even notice her. Instead, I hurry to my changing area. I remove the dress I’m wearing and put on another casual outfit.

Emma and I aren’t the only ones taking part in this event. Other models are, as well. But the spotlight is on me. I have something to prove to Emma.

Emma and the other girls strut out and display the items they are wearing. Next, it’s my turn again. The applause level goes back up as I walk out.

When I return, Leslie is beaming. “Your husband got here!”

“Oh, good! Is he out there?”

“He is. Go get your next outfit!”

I hurry off to fetch my next design. It’s a casual pair of overall shorts with a bright blue T-shirt with rolled sleeves. I pick up a pair of sandals with heels and slide them on my feet. I still have a few minutes before it’s my turn.

The hairstylist creates a loose French braid and positions it so it goes over my left shoulder. My turn!

I strut back out to the runway. I spot Liam, who’s clapping for me. I blow him a saucy kiss and saunter on by.

Models who can relate to their audiences are more successful. As I blow the kiss to my husband, the crowd cheers and the paparazzi’s camera flashes are going off almost continuously. I stop at the end, take my pose, and turn around, showing everyone just what the outfit is made of. I love outfits like this. I could live in them all day long.

The showdown goes on into the early afternoon. We get a break to eat and drink something so we can keep our energy level high. I munch a salad of romaine lettuce, cherry tomatoes, croutons and a light vinaigrette. To drink, I have sweet tea. I feel refreshed when I finish, then hurry to get my next outfit.

This time, it’s a crocheted skirt in ice cream colors, with a light pullover top that picks up on the salmon tone in the skirt. I walk out barefoot. Liam’s eyes widen as he sees me in the outfit.

Oh, I have to buy this!

He hurries backstage to find me. “Cassandra, you are doing beautifully!” He grabs my hands in his and tugs me closer to him. Then, he kisses me. And yes, that electricity is there again. “Go get your next design and get ready.”

Savoring the feel of his lips on mine, I scurry back to get my next outfit. This time, it’s a lightweight summer dress with three-quarter length sleeves. It has a scoop out on the back, with several short lengths of fabric sewn into a criss-cross pattern.

My French braid comes out and the stylist combs my hair into large waves. I refresh my lipstick and slip into casual espadrilles. I think I’m going to buy a few of these outfits, if I can. I stand by the curtain, and the stage manager pats my shoulder when it’s my turn.

I go back out and strut down the runway. The audience loves this dress! I draw energy from their enthusiasm and stand at the end of the runway, turning around and showing the dress from all angles.

The showdown comes to an end. The new designers whose designs we wore all come out and take their bows. All of the models, including me, strut out in a row. When we get to the end of the runway, the audience cheers for the model they like the most.

As I stand at the end, the cheers are almost deafening. The announcer calls out the winner.

I win!

I sneak a look at Emma. She is red-faced and scowling horribly.Hmmm. Who was it who asked for this challenge? She should be careful what she wishes for.

I seek out my husband and send a questioning look to him. He smiles. “You did a wonderful job, Cassandra! You showed each outfit to its full potential, which is why you’re the best at this job.”

Leslie and the other models all gather around me. They all nod at what Liam says. All except Emma who – just as I hoped – is left red-faced with fury. And maybe a little green with envy.

18

CASSANDRA

When I go into my dressing room, I stop suddenly. David’s in here!

Looking at him, I suspect he’s drunk. I stay at the door because I don’t like how he’s looking at me. I refuse to step completely into the room, and I won’t close the door, either. Mentally, I’m going through the building’s hiding places if I need to get away. There aren’t very many places I can reach quickly. Maybe the front offices?

“David.” My voice is frosty.