Page 33 of Legally Yours
After holding my breath all week, I’m about to exhale when a storm comes my way in the form of Emma Bardot walking toward me backstage. I keep on holding my breath as I know nothing good these days comes from a meeting with my so-called best friend. By her expression, I know she’s not here to wish me well.
“Looks like you’ve taken care of everything. Haven’t you, bestie? Too bad, actually, as I fear this will be your last fashion show.” Emma crosses her arms and throws me a wry smile like she knows something I don’t.
I smile back, but I’m playing twenty questions in my head.What is up with this woman? I thought I knew her once. I don’t recognize her at all these days. What’s she talking about? This being my last show?
“Emma, I seriously think your Christmas light string is short a lit bulb. It’s obvious you’re either pulling my leg or you’re delusional.”
“Oh, I assure you I’m not delusional, Cassandra. Far from that.”
“Well, your wires are crossed if you think I’m bowing out of this business now. I have no plans to stop directing fashion shows for Anderson Modeling. I will never resign, despite what David wants. And I have no plans to stop modeling now or in the foreseeable future. I don’t know what you’re on about.”
I cross my arms over my chest and furrow my brows to let her know two can play at this silly game. At least on my end, I mean business.
“Well, I guess only time will tell. Right, bestie? None of us know what the future holds, right? We could get hit by a bus or something else. You never know. Break a leg, dear. You deserve it!” Emma walks away, laughing and flipping a backhanded wave.
I look at Emma trailing away and notice her laughter is witchy, devious. I sense something is off but can’t quite put my finger on it. I’ve known her long enough to know she’s planning something, but what the something is I haven’t a clue.
I end up worrying for nothing as the show goes on without a hitch. The audience is enraptured. Orders are flowing. I see Liam in the distance wrangling deals with prospective clients. Time flies and soon it’s my turn to hit the catwalk as the anchor model. As I hitch up my zipper and prepare to walk out, my PA comes running up to me.
“There’s been a slight order change, Cassandra. Liam’s orders.”
“Uh, okay. I thought I was anchoring?”
“We did, too. It’s Leslie who’s going out instead.”
I raise my eyebrows and throw up my hands. Liam is the owner of Anderson. It’s his call.
I watch from stage right as Leslie goes out. She’s wearing a full-length gown with a draping hood. Over her shoulders is a faux stole, and she’s wearing elbow-length evening gloves.
I’m shocked by her look. Leslie is covered with material from head to toe. The body hiding outfit is nowhere on my list.
Liam changes the fashion line-up, too? His choice makes no sense, but I go with it. There’s not much I can do at this point.
I watch Leslie walk down the catwalk, but she stops way ahead of her mark. She’s supposed to walk to the end, do a twirl, take several poses and return. She’s at least ten feet shy of her mark. Now I’m really confused.
I turn around to ask my PA what’s going on when there’s a tremendous crash. I run to the curtain, peek out and see a klieg light fixture bent and broken. Smoke eschews from the metal and glass.
It fell right at the end of the catwalk!
I rush out onto the stage. “Leslie, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. That light has seen better days, though.”
“Was that…?”
“Yes, Cassandra. That light was rigged to fall.”
“Is that why you took my place and why you were dressed in that get-up?”
“Yes. But it’s all okay now. No one got hurt.”
“Oh, my God. Is that what she meant?” I realize.
“Who meant?”
“Oh, nothing. Forget it. I might be wrong. I’m sure I’m wrong.”
Just then, my talk with Leslie is cut short by the sound of wailing sirens. Police cars, by the dozens it sounds, are coming closer to the venue we’re in.