Page 131 of Flare

“Sorry,” Malcolm gasped. “I left my pass in the other building at Karen’s show and they wouldn’t fucking let me in.”

“Don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re here. Now get over to Anne so she can get all the fucking glitter off your face. I’ll bump you to the end of the line-up.” I turned back to Kip. “Thanks for the warning about Gloria. I saw her at the Barnaby show, watching Shayne’s run. He looked good, by the way. She ignored me. Fuck her. I haven’t got time to worry about anything she might do.”

Kip nodded and set about straightening seams and tweaking hem lines while I cast an eye over the latest model to join the line. “James, what the hell have you got on your feet? You need the tan shoes, not the black. Amy!” Amy rushed the correct shoes over and James did a quick swap.

I walked down the line and ran a critical eye over the next run of models, giving them a thumbs up. “Light it up for me, guys. You all look amazing.”

As they straightened and fussed and shook out their hands, I moved back to the front of the line, just behind the backdrop to do a last-second check before they passed through carrying my career on their shoulders.

Alec and Daniel had primed the audience to perfection, and so far, people seemed to be liking what they saw. Thank God. I looked to the screen on the wall and watched the two women in beautiful Regency-style dresses heading back up the runway. I’d chosen several of these couples to punctuate my collection like palate cleansers. As soon as they were done, the boys were on.

I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly, nerves jumping in my throat, my heart beating a tattoo in my chest. Holy shit. This was it. A year’s work on the line. My whole future in a matter of minutes.

The female models passed through the backdrop to the backstage arena, their lace and taffeta skirts brushing my legs. I whispered a thank you as they headed for their next change, then eyed Alec in the first of my modern men’s Regency collection and winked.

“Knock ’em dead, gorgeous. You’re gonna have agents coming out your fucking ears after today.”

He beamed. “Thanks, Rhys. For everything.” Then he schooled his expression, straightened his spine, and headed out on the runway.

I took a couple of seconds to check the audience response on the screen, relief flooding my chest at the appreciative smiles, whispered comments, and scribbled notes.Okay, focus. But as I sent the line through the curtains one by one, something warm and solid exploded in my chest. Regardless of what the reviews said, I was so fucking proud.

I grabbed Kip’s hand and tugged him close. “We did it.”

Fifteen minutes later I strode the length of the runway, head held high, flanked by Alec and Daniel with the other models following. We were greeted by an audience on their feet in thunderous applause, and I wore the biggest of smiles plastered ear to ear. No poker face for me, I was too fucking pumped. But ignoring of all the commotion, my gaze was pinned on just two people, Beck and Jack, whistling and fist-pumping the air. One look at them and the rest of the crowd faded into nothing.

I stopped at the turnaround and blew them a double handed kiss. Cameras and phones immediately spun to catch the moment. Jack laughed and struck a pose while Beck blazed red and flashed me a look that promised dire retribution. I couldn’t fucking wait.

I smiled and headed back up the runway, waving to the crowd before passing through the backdrop and into the cheers and applause of everyone backstage. Someone shoved a champagne flute into my hand, but all I really wanted was Beck. Still, this was all part of the show, and with my heart pounding in my chest, I summoned my best public smile, took a deep breath, and started making the rounds.

Not long after, Hunter sidled up and rested his chin on my shoulder. “You did it, babe. They fucking loved it.”

I spun to face him. “You really think so? I mean, I’m getting some great feedback, but it’s hard to know. A few of the big names are missing from back here.” I cast a worried look around the room.

Hunter grinned. “Well, I caught snippets of convo from the photog end and most of them were blown away. But that woman who buys for Harrods, what’s her name?”

“Eva Langley.”

“Right. I heard her talking with the Ford Agency rep about the wonderful eye for detail and that she’d be blowing her budget since she hadn’t been counting on buying from this end of the shows.”

“What?” I gripped his arms and might have even jumped a little. “Holy fuck.”

“I know.” He grinned. “And word is, Alec’s a shoo-in for Fashion Week’s Model of the Year Award. Shayne will be spewing.”

I watched the pride on his face with interest. “You like him.”

He frowned and glanced away. “Who, Alec?”

I nodded.

“Of course I like him, he’s a good model. Now go enjoy your accolades. You deserve it.”

I was about to call him on his bullshit answer when someone called my name, and by the time I turned back, Hunter was gone.

Ten minutes later there was a tug at my sleeve, and I turned to find Kip with Beck and Jack in tow. I fired a look of eternal gratitude Kip’s way. “Thank you.”

Jack immediately grabbed me into a hug. “That was awesome. You totally rocked it.” He stepped back, practically bouncing on his toes, his gaze darting around the backstage area with obvious curiosity.

“You wanna come and see what we do back here?” Kip asked Jack, firing a look Beck’s way that I couldn’t decipher.

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