Page 111 of Silent Comrade
However, Britt had bigger fish to fry thanworrying about Golden Girl. “Hey, you have a wonderful show. Yourcollection is beautiful. I’ll be rooting for you.”
Jenna froze on what looked to be a snottyretort. Stared. Gaped like a largemouth bass. Turned and stumbledas she walked away.
Wow. Britt never figured magnanimity coulddouble as a weapon. Tuck that tidbit away for future reference.
After another fifteen minutes of tuning upTachi and Kim’s outfits with last-minute hidden pins to tuck thefabric just so and adjusting hair and makeup, Britt stood andstretched her back, catching a glimpse of a familiar face.
“Dad!” she called out, hurrying toward him.Gonzo and Rodeo casually flanked her, but kept their distance.
Dad had on a light-blue long-sleevedbutton-down shirt, a navy sweater vest, and gray woolen pants. Yes,her father had worn his postmaster uniform to her fashion show. Shegrinned. He’d even slicked his thinning hair in what could best bedescribed as “male newscaster chic.” Quintessential Dad.
He reached out. “Hi, honey.”
His bear hug brought tears to Britt’s eyesas she inhaled his Brut aftershave—a scentshe associated with him as long as she could recall. She clutchedhim, panic ramping up. She didn’t want to let go. She scanned thevenue. How could she put him in this danger?
He patted her on the back, harrumphed, andpointed behind him. “This is Luis Rivera. Just started working atmy post office. Turns out we both like beer, pool, and AtlantaHawks basketball.” His brows shot up. “And he’s ex-military, too,like me.”
Rivera had on loose-fit jeans, a tanbutton-down shirt, and casual lace-up brown leather shoes. Brittdidn’t buy the getup for a minute. She’d bet a rack of clothes thathe had tactical weapons stashed all over him.
The tall, lean Latino man stuck out his handwith a tight, brief smile. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m, uh, not abig fashion fan, but the reward of going to a round ball gametonight? Hooah, I couldn’t pass it up.” He paused. “Uh, sorry. Imean, I’m sure the show will be nice, too.”
Dad beamed—as muchat his friend as Britt.
A glint in Rivera’s steely gaze. Britt knewthe score. The teammate’s awkward schtick was for show. He was hereon business, pure and simple. The business of keeping her dad safe.Good.
A tight vise she didn’t realize had wrappedaround her chest, loosened up a notch. Dad would be okay. Riverawould see to that. Dad was here. He’d get to see herachievement.
“Thanks for keeping Dad company, Luis. Ihope you enjoy the show and the basketball game.”Please keephim safe, she tried to convey with her eyes.
“Will do.” He elbowed her dad. “Hey, Sean,do you think they have popcorn for events like this?”
A grimace. “I don’t think so.” Dad sighedand blinked, rubbing his hands together. “There might be fancydrinks at the reception afterward. We could sneak one now.”
“Dad!”
“Fine. I’ll wait until later.” He made akind ofaw, shucksarm move and pointed with a thumb.“Right. Enough talking. I want to get a good seat.” He beamed ather. “I wouldn’t miss your show for the world, honey. I’m sorry tohear your sisters couldn’t make it.”
Another hug, laced with relief. “That’sokay. They had important things to take care of. But thanks againfor coming, Dad. It means a lot.”
“Can’t wait.” He had no clue about anythingto do with fashion. Heck, he really had no idea what her majorentailed. Yet, here was good old Dad, always supportive of hiskids, no matter what.
He and Rivera strolled out of the backstagearea like two peas in a pod, chatting about basketball stats asRivera pantomimed a free throw.
Britt stood by herself. Checked her watch.Twelve minutes until the show started. Her heart pounded and palmsgrew clammy as she stared around the room.
The models clustered in a group in hersection. Tachi and her friends practiced removing the jackets toreveal the surprisingly sparkly tank tops beneath as well asGonzo’s accessories he had purchased the other day. Gonzo had eveninsisted on sewing on a few fun silver four-leaf clovers “forluck.” They surprisingly looked great on the women’s tops. Britt’scollection was meant to inspire day-to-evening fashion with a fewsimple adjustments.
Hopefully a designer would see the vision.Heck, every year scouts from New York and LA fashion houses sat onthe front row of the SCAD spring show. For good reason. Typically,one or two fashion students got offered an internship at one of themajor designers. Careers had been launched from this verycatwalk.
That outcome was too much for Britt to hopefor, given how quickly she had thrown together this collection. Hermain goal was to get a passing grade and graduate.
Next goal: disappear until this mess withBeau Lequire and his creepy fixation on Kiera was resolved.
She rearranged the order of the models oncemore, since they were a model short. Disappointment created a sourtaste in her throat. No, the show should work fine. They wereprofessionals. Well, the women were. The guys had some of the worststruts she’d ever seen, but here’s hoping their bulging muscles andhandsome swagger made up for whatever they lacked in runwayskills.
Still no Red.
In case she had wondered how he felt abouther. About the show. About everything. A lump formed in herthroat.
