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Chapter 2
Archer Devonshire the third paced restlessly back and forth over the walnut hardwood floors of his study. The long fingers of his tanned hands pulled over the top of his Belvedere desk, the cherry wood polished and waxed to look like it was encased in the finest layer of glass. The prints of his fingers remained as he returned to pacing.
“Are you sure you want to do this, sir?”
Archer looked up at his butler distractedly.
“Hmm?”
“The…the flyers, sir. Surely there’s another way–”
“No. I’ve made up my mind. It’s the only way.”
“Well, I really don’t think…that is to say, of course, sir.” He made a stiff bow before backing towards the door. “I’ll see to distributing these right away.”
Archer gave a brief nod in acknowledgement and then continued to pace. The cleaning service would have a fit if they saw the tracks that he was wearing in the polish on the hardwood floor, but he barely even noticed.
His mind was busy turning over the problem before him. He only had a few months to show up in front of a judge with a pregnant girlfriend. He shook his head, cursing his mother for getting him into this predicament. If she hadn’t lied to try and get him out of more prison time…
But she had, and now he had to figure out how to make that lie a reality. As he had thought of solution after solution only to discard them all, it had finally struck him! All he needed to do was hire a surrogate. He had millions of dollars at his disposal, thanks to the job that now had him in the law’s crosshairs.
As the thought had tumbled through his mind over the past weeks, Archer had realized a strange, new emotion had begun to flicker whenever he thought of someone pregnant with his child, a baby with his eyes and hair, someone to raise and care for. Shocked, he discovered that what he was feeling was tenderness, something that was in short supply in his life.
He was so tired of the endless parties and vapid conversation. Then there were all the women who chased him because of his name, his money, or who wanted their fifteen minutes of fame dangling on his Armani-clad arm.
He glanced down at the mock-up of the flyer his butler was even now putting up around Manhattan. With a restless sigh, he resumed his tension-wrought pacing. God, he hoped this worked.
.
Some people might have thought that Kady was crazy for even showing up for this interview with all the packing she still had to do. She’d filled out the application while she’d still had a home, somewhere she could sleep at night, and bathe before showing up for work each day. She needed somewhere that her spare time could be used on her dreams of becoming a great fashion designer, instead of just living as a lowly model without a steady gig.
But really, if she didn’t come to the interview, there was no chance at all of getting a steady job so she could keep a home. There was nothing left for her but one more day of packing stuff from her apartment into the storage unit she’d rented for the month. And if this month went by with no work to speak of, then everything she owned would be gone. Just like that. Sold to the highest bidder at auction when she failed to pay the rent there as well.
Her mindset wasn’t at its best by a long shot as she stepped into a room teeming with what had to be over a hundred people, probably all trying for the exact same positions. There were loads of women here from teen to older, all hoping for modeling positions for the new clothing line known only as Dazzle. It was so new,
in fact, none of them were even sure what they would be wearing for the photo shoots if they got in.
Still, it sure beat sleeping on some park bench tomorrow night. Maybe she’d even be able to come home and tell the landlady about the new job and convince her to let her stay. But even if she did, Melina would not be staying there with her. She would just have to find a different roommate instead. A much more responsible one. That was all just part of growing up, and it was about time that she did, just as her stepfather had said.
Thinking of Rick did not improve her mood either, however. Since it was always with her, Kady whipped out her sketch book and started to draw a design that popped into her head. Something flashy but practical, so you could wear it in a casual setting but still look good enough for a fancy restaurant while you were at it. It was mostly about the top, but you could wear it with either pants or a skirt, long or short as desired, and still look great. Yeah, if only she could be wearing that instead of what she had on now—but this dress was all that she could afford.
Kady glanced down at her dark red dress. It was an older style, as she had bought it a resale shop down the street from her apartment. Well, ex apartment. It had a line of beading around the collar that flattered the straight line of her shoulders and an empire waist that emphasized her lithe, yet feminine figure. She’d done what she could to take the ruffles out of the bottom hem with a pair of seam rippers, but it still fell at a slightly awkward height, hitting her right above her knees. It definitely was not couture.
“Excuse me, miss, could I have a look at your drawings by any chance?” asked an older woman who was sitting nearby. Well dressed and refined, but seemingly friendly as well.
“Oh, sure,” she said, handing her the sketch book with a smile. “It’s a sort of hobby of mine, I guess. Someday I’d really love to become a fashion designer, even though the school I’d like to go to is way too expensive for someone with my limited resources.”
“Ah, understandable,” she sympathized with a smile. “I know how hard it can be for people of color to get a leg up in this industry. Hell, it was hard enough for me in the beginning, and I came from a wealthy white upbringing in the ritzy part of town. Oh, not that I mean to brag, my dear. Please don’t think that. I’m just saying that it’s really tough for a woman—any woman—to get a leg up in the business world. Even in the fashion industry, it seems.”
“I see,” replied Kady. “So I take it you’ve been in the industry for a while now then?”
“Well, yes, I’d say that I have,” she agreed, extending her hand as though preparing to shake Kady’s and introduce herself.
“Ms. Caldwell?” said the receptionist. “Looks like they need you now.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, young lady, but duty calls. Maybe I’ll see you again soon?”
“Yes, maybe,” she agreed with a smile as she watched the woman go. She couldn’t decide if she liked her for being so kind, or hated her for getting to go back before everyone else. Her interview must already be pre-approved, most likely. Then again, as a woman who looked to be in her fifties, it was likely that it was. It was much harder to find older models that still had such a perfect figure or pretty face, which the woman definitely had.
