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CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
When Deacon and Olivia arrived at the hotel where the fashion show was being held, the main ballroom was already filled to capacity. Celebrities and honored guests sat in the rows of chairs that surrounded the catwalk, and television equipment and cameras filled every other available space.
The backstage was even more chaotic. Designers, hair stylists, and makeup artists swarmed around supermodels, adjusting bras and panties, fixing hair, and touching up makeup. Reporters and photographers circled, taking notes and snapping pictures, while a camera crew interviewed the models as they were being primped. In the midst of the mass confusion, Samuel stood, his usually perfect hair mussed and his tie crooked. When he saw Olivia, he hurried over.
“Thank God you’re here,” he said. “One of the models has the flu. Another went on a doughnut binge this morning and looks pregnant in the Romeo bra and panty set. And the stage backdrop for the Lothario Collection is all wrong.”
Olivia expected Deacon to start issuing orders, and when he didn’t, she glanced over to find his eyes wide and his mouth partially open in stunned shock. For the first time, he looked like he didn’t have a clue what to do. That alone was enough to put a smug smile on her face. Especially after his lame reply to her heartfelt speech at the airport. And after he hadn’t spoken a word on the way to the hotel. Not one word. He’d just driven the Porsche like a movie stunt man in a car chase while Olivia fumed.
“What, Deacon?” she said. “Don’t tell me that you don’t know what to do.” She might’ve continued to rub it in if the show wasn’t starting in mere minutes. Looking around at a scene she had witnessed dozens of times before, she felt an invigorating excitement.
“Which model has the flu?” she asked as she took Samuel’s clipboard.
“Leila.”
Olivia flipped through the list of models. “It’s too late to call one of the alternates, we’ll have to divide up the designs Leila planned to wear.” She ran her finger down the list. “Charlize and Renee have similar measurements. Get them fitted now. Let’s not worry about the backdrop. Once the models are on the runway, no one will be looking at it anyway. And as for the poochy tummy, let’s go with it. It might make women around the world feel a little better about their own bodies. Also, you’ll need to call Kelly and have her bring me something from my house to wear on the runway—she can choose.”
While Samuel raced off to do her bidding, the side door opened, and Donny, Nash, and Grayson walked in and joined Deacon, who still stood by the door. He no longer looked shocked. In fact he was smiling. And surprisingly, Olivia smiled back before she started issuing orders.
“Grayson, you’ll need to get dressed. You’ll be going out with two of the models at the end of your collection. And the same goes for you, Nash.”
Grayson nodded while Nash gave her a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Deacon, you’ll go out last.” She didn’t wait for him to reply before she clapped her hands. “Now let’s get to it. We’ve got a fashion show to pull together.”
But her excitement left quickly enough as one problem after the other cropped up. The pop singer they’d hired to open the show split a seam in his pants and had to have them quickly stitched, but once he got onstage, he rocked the house. Olivia adjusted the deep-purple bra of the first model before sending her to Samuel, who stood at the top of the stairs wearing a headset and issuing orders into the microphone.
Once the model stepped out onstage, there was nothing for Olivia to do but hold her breath and watch the backstage monitors as the model pranced down the runway like a pony on parade. It wasn’t until she made her first turn that the crowd broke out in deafening applause, and Olivia’s stomach released a mere fraction. But this was only one design. There were dozens more to come. And with each model and each round of applause, she relaxed a little more.
During a commercial break, Kelly arrived with a dress flung over her arm. It wasn’t one of Olivia’s business suits. It was a sleeveless purple-polka-dotted dress with a flared skirt that Olivia had bought on impulse and never worn.
“I thought it was time for our top designer to strut her stuff,” Kelly said with a smile. “And I think this shows off your creative personality better than those stuffy suits you’ve been wearing.”
Olivia held up the flirty dress and smiled. “I think you’re right, Kelly. And call me Olivia.”
Kelly laughed. “I get the feeling that we’ve both done a little evolving since the Beaumonts have arrived.” She took Olivia’s arm and led her back to one of the makeshift dressing rooms to help her change into the dress.
Because she was still confused and needed some advice, Olivia spilled her guts about what had happened at the airport.
“‘Okay’? That’s all he said?” Kelly zipped the dress and handed Olivia the purple high heels she’d brought.
“That was it. And since you’ve dated a lot of guys, I was hoping you’d know what it meant.”
Kelly blushed. “Actually, I haven’t really dated that many guys—okay, so I’ve only dated five guys. And one was in third grade. But I know a good guy when I see him, and Mr. Beaumont is a good guy. If he said ‘Okay,’ then I think everything is going to be okay. Now we better hurry before the show ends without you.”
Once the makeup artist gave Olivia the once-over with his brushes, she and Kelly hurried back to watch the rest of the show.
Grayson and Nash turned out to be naturals. Grayson even gave the camera a sexy little smile as he walked down the aisle with a model on each arm. Nash was a little more theatrical. He had coached the girls he walked with, and when they reached the end of the runway, they gave him a kiss on either cheek as he flashed a brilliant smile and winked.
The Valentino Collection was the grand finale, and Olivia couldn’t help taking extra time with the models before they climbed the stairs to the stage. The last one out wore the purple lace-up corset. Olivia had just retied the bow in front for the third time when Deacon spoke.
“I liked it better on you.”
She glanced behind her. He had changed into a gray suit, purple shirt, and silver tie, and the supermodels couldn’t seem to take their eyes off him.
“You look nice,” she said.
“So do you,” he said, even though his eyes remained locked with hers. “New dress?”
