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"You're going to do a shoot--on my line--wow," Eliza breathed. She was so excited she almost tottered on her high heels. Sure, she'd had orders from Barneys and Bergdorf's, but
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the Easton brothers choosing her clothes to photograph brought her to a different level entirely. They only shot the best. It was like being picked for the major leagues.
"And we want your friend Jacqui to be the model for the shoot."
"Jacqui? Fabulous!" Eliza trilled. "I think that's a great idea!" She looked over to where Jacqui was artfully draped on the couch. The girl looked poised even when she was sitting down.
"I know. She's a natural." Midas nodded. "She's exactly what editors are looking for right now. You know the super-skinny skeletal look is out. Models dying from starvation and all that. Out, out, out. They want healthy. They want exotic. They want a girl with curves. She can be the new Gisele. You said your clothes are about telling a story, about transforming a woman. I think she can convey that--with her looks, she can read as Caucasian, Hispanic, even part African or Asian, like Jessica Alba. She's unique and universal at the same time."
Eliza nodded, her enthusiasm building.
"There's just one catch," Midas added, a preemptive note in his voice.
"What's that?" Eliza's brow furrowed. There was always a catch.
"Marcus already asked her to do it, and she turned him down flat."
Eliza frowned. How could she have forgotten about Jacqui's distaste for modeling? Whenever Eliza invited her out with her and her fashion buddies in the city, she always declined, saying
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she knew how models partied. Not that Eliza could really blame her--Jacqui's sole venture into professional modeling had resulted in a disastrous fauxhawk haircut. "Jacqui doesn't want to be a model, and I don't think we can change her mind." Eliza sighed. "But surely we can find someone else?"
"Oh." Midas looked troubled. "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. We always look for the right
combination--model and designer---and if one doesn't work out, we'll have to find another label. I'm sorry. So unless you can convince her otherwise . . ." He shrugged, his voice trailing off.
"I'll talk to her," Eliza said, trying to make her voice more optimistic than she felt. There would be no convincing Jacqui. Talking to her, you'd think modeling was akin to clubbing baby seals, for God's sake. She walked over to the couch, where Marcus had reinstated himself. They certainly looked cozy enough. "Jac? Can I borrow you for a second?"
Jacqui blinked, looking a bit dazed and a little drunk. "Sure. What's up?"
Eliza helped her friend to her feet and walked her over to a shadowy alcove by the cash registers, out of earshot. Eliza noticed Jeremy trying to signal her from across the room, but she ignored him for now. This was more important.
"Those guys want to shoot my line, but only if you'll model it!" Eliza whispered fiercely.
"I know. They asked me." Jacqui smiled, wondering what the fuss was all about. "I told them no."
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Eliza looked pained. "You don't understand. If you don't do it, they won't shoot my clothes."
"Really?" Jacqui asked, shocked momentarily into sobriety. "But that's so silly."
"I know, but that's what they said. C'mon, will you do it? For me?" Eliza pleaded. "I promise I'll be there every step of the way."
"Model?" Jacqui asked, making a face. Her brief brush with modeling had totally turned her off from the profession. Everyone she'd met in the industry--designers, makeup artists, stylists, editors--treated models like cattle: dumb, barely sentient beings who needed everything done for them. They even had a name for them: "clothes hangers." No thanks. "You know I can't stand it." She shook her head.
"I know." Eliza bit her lip. "I wouldn't ask if it didn't mean a lot. If it didn't mean everything to me."
Jacqui exhaled. She looked at Eliza's nervous, hopeful face. Maybe she could do just one shoot, as a favor to Eliza. Like the beach fashion show, or even tonight's task to walk the room. Come to think of it, she'd done a lot of modeling assignments as favors for Eliza in the past, so just one more couldn't really hurt. And the way Marcus was grinning at her from across the room . . . this would mean she would get to see more of him, a prospect that was starting to look very appealing.
"Oh, all right," she relented.
"Hooray!" Eliza cheered, pulling Jacqui in for a close hug. She
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