Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Two hours later, the soft glow of the setting sun lit the street as Anderson pulled up in front of Bowie’s.
Time had flown, as it did whenever she talked fashion.
The girls had convinced her they could pull off a Valentine’s week fashion show, with Rory promising to rally more volunteers for a planning meeting the next day.
Twenty-eight days wasn’t much time, but this wasn’t one of the Big Four’s fashion weeks.
Vanessa had instantly shut down the idea of borrowing the wardrobe from the outlet malls.
Her acting career might be in tatters, but her fashion contacts were solid.
No one was walking the runway in last season’s Gap collection on her watch.
She climbed out of the car, giving Anderson a quick thanks. “Same time, same place tomorrow?”
“Of course, Miss Barone,” he agreed before driving off.
Walking up to the building, she started scrolling through her contacts to see which designer friends might help at the last minute. She also had ideas about involving local businesses and sports teams. Surely, she wasn’t the only one who could use the good press?
Her mind was so consumed by the fundraiser, she didn’t notice the massive bouquet until she reached the door to the apartments.
Something you’d send for an anniversary or grand gesture, and it took up nearly the entire doorway.
Bending, she carefully picked up the dark-red roses and smiled, inhaling their sweet scent.
The small, sealed envelope tucked between the petals had her name on it. They were probably from her sister. An attempt to cheer her up from the shitty few days she’d been having, though she didn’t understand why the delivery person would’ve left such an expensive bouquet on the street.
Once she got inside Ivy and Sean’s apartment, she kicked off her heels and set the flowers on the table. She opened the envelope.
Don’t let the haters drag you down, beautiful. You’re always amazing to me. xo.
Smiling, she immediately pulled out her phone and called her sister.
“You okay?” Lucy answered by way of greeting. Typical for her overprotective sister.
Vanessa rolled her eyes. “You know, most people say, Hello. And of course I’m okay. Definitely better now. Thanks for the flowers, Lu.”
An ominous silence filled the other end of the line. “What are you talking about?”
Vanessa glanced at the flowers. “The roses and the note. They made my day.”
More silence. “Vanessa, I didn’t send you any flowers or a note.”
“You didn’t?” A chill trickled down Vanessa’s spine, and she squared her shoulders to clear it. Her days of paranoia were over, she reminded herself.
“No. Hang up. I want to FaceTime.” The line went dead. Seconds later, a video call came in, and her sister’s face appeared on the screen. “Show me.”
This was silly. If the flowers weren’t from Lucy, then they were probably from Natalie, or maybe even Colin. An apology for calling her a snob.
She flipped her phone camera and showed her sister the flowers.
“That’s a hundred-dollar bouquet, at least,” her sister pointed out.
“Yeah, which is why I thought it was from you. Who else would send me something like this when it’s not my birthday?”
“You’re sure they’re for you?” Lucy asked.
“Well, my name was on the envelope, so yeah.” She opened the card to double-check.
“What did the card say?” Lucy’s voice was tinged with concern.
“Okay, will you stop sounding so paranoid? You’re freaking me out. It’s flowers. If they’re not from you, they’re from someone else I know. No big deal. I’ll figure it out eventually.”
“The card, Vanessa.”
Ugh, big sisters. She read the card out loud.
“Haters? So someone who knows what happened at the club the other day.”
Vanessa sighed. She wasn’t trying to make light of it, but she didn’t want her sister to worry. Chances were there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. “Everyone knows what happened at the club. It’s all over social media.”
“Exactly. I don’t like it. People are weird, and the longer I’m married to Joel, the more I’m starting to realize that.”
Vanessa swallowed a laugh.
“Okay, that came out wrong. Joel’s not weird. The opposite, really. But having this much money and influence makes the people around us weird. I never thought we needed security, but you can’t be too careful. People do strange things.”
Vanessa twirled a long strand of hair around her finger. “I get it, trust me. I’ve been in this business long enough. But I’ve been MIA for six months, and nobody’s really been paying attention.”
“You have over a million people following you on Instagram, and you post almost daily. That’s not exactly MIA, sister dearest.”
“Well, for me, it is. It’s been refreshing having some anonymity in this town. No one really cares about high fashion here, and other than a few teens, no one appears to know me from the show. So I think we don’t have to press the panic button yet. The roses are probably from Natalie.”
“What do you mean, people don’t know you? There were thousands of videos of you kissing Jordan circulating the internet universe, and we both know they’re not from Natalie. She’d never spend a hundred bucks on you.”
True. The cousins had a twenty-dollar rule when it came to gift giving, which meant most presents ended up being ridiculous gag gifts they ordered online.
“Maybe it was Mom.”
Lucy guffawed. “Don’t try to be funny. This could be serious.”
“Fine, it wasn’t Mom.” Her mother thought big bouquets were ostentatious and a waste of money. She probably didn’t even know about what happened at Silk since she didn’t use social media. “But I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
Over the phone screen, Lucy offered a skeptical look. “I think I need to come home.”
“You do not need to come home.” Vanessa reassured her. The last thing she’d meant to do was make her sister worry about her. “I should never have called you. Can we forget I did? Can you invoke temporary amnesia or something?”
“I cannot invoke temporary amnesia, Vanessa. You’re my little sister. It’s my job to worry about you. Especially with—well, everything.”
Everything being her big fat mistake when she was nineteen that she could never live down. “K, sissy, I have to go. I love you lots. All is fine, I promise. Love you.” She ended the call before Lucy could reply.
Almost as soon as she set the phone down, it started buzzing again. Thinking it was Lucy calling back, she grabbed the phone. But she stopped short when she saw the screen.
Unknown.
Suspecting a spam call, she hit decline and opened her Instagram app. Her notifications were out of control since the incident, and she couldn’t keep up with DMs, but she checked them anyway. She knew better than to check comments where most of the trolls lived.
The first DM in the list was from @modellover2010.
Talk about weird. She’d gotten DMs from this account before and never responded.
Never bothered to block them either since most of the messages were always praising.
Sure enough, this one from earlier today read: Keep that beautiful chin up. This too shall pass.
She gave a small smile. Lucy was right. There were weirdos online who didn’t know about boundaries or respect. But there were plenty of genuine fans too. In the sea of vitriol, letting someone have their fangirl moment wasn’t a bother. It didn’t hurt anyone.
Vanessa thumbed through more of her DMs until she landed on her group chat with Nikki and Landon, two of her oldest friends from their modeling days.
Nikki still worked in modeling, and Landon was a photographer. They’d met in New York ten years ago when Vanessa was starting out and had stayed in touch ever since. Every once in a while, a job or Fashion Week would bring them together, and they’d have a blast like no time had passed.
Vanessa tapped the message.
Nikki
Girl, you alive?
Landon
Enter chat with proof of life.
Vanessa snickered and quickly typed her reply.
Vanessa
Alive and thriving, thanks.
Bubbles popped up immediately, followed by a string of laughing emojis.
Nikki
LOL, good to hear. You’ve been all over my socials for that club make-out with bouncer hottie. Thought I’d check in before it went all PR crisis.
Ugh, she should have known Nikki would be all over her most recent debacle. Which made her think…
Vanessa
Any chance you sent me roses?
Nikki
Sorry, boo. But I can if you want me to.
Vanessa couldn’t help but grin.
Vanessa
LOL, maybe another time. I got a huge bouquet and no clue who sent it.
Nikki
I’m manifesting a secret millionaire crush.
Vanessa
Gurrrrl, we don’t need those. We’re the millionaires.
That was the only reason she could afford this long hiatus. Her acting gig had paid well, but her modeling contracts made her a millionaire before her twentieth birthday.
She’d left home at sixteen to chase a dream. Making a name for herself in the industry, landing big campaigns, walking in fashion week, being on the cover of some of the top magazines in the industry. Of course, being in control and out from under the thumb of her overbearing, traditional family.
She got lucky when Chanel’s creative director had seen her walk in a show.
He thought she had the classic look they needed for their upcoming season.
Landing that contract had been her first big paycheck, and taste of financial independence.
After that, her career catapulted. She’d just turned seventeen.
Nikki
LMFAO, so true. K, love you, sis. Gotta run. Early photoshoot tomorrow.
Nikki hadn’t had that kind of luck, but she got steady work and slowly climbed the ladder of her own.
At twenty-five, they were getting old for the business, but they both had bankrolls that spoke to their successes.
Her heart squeezed at the memory of the past photoshoots she’d done with Nikki. There were a lot of good times with her and Landon.
Vanessa
Xoxo 4eva
Vanessa
Landon, proof of life!?
Nikki
He’s probably at Vibe, lost under a pile of women.
Ugh, more nostalgia. Vibe was their favorite club in New York City. The three of them used to go every chance they got. Late nights dancing, drinking, and having fun before stumbling home to their shared apartment.
They’d lived together until Vanessa was nineteen, which was when she’d moved in with her very first boyfriend, Noah, and her life pretty much nose-dived from there.
She drowned out the memories with a few minutes of meaningless scrolling before a notification flashed across the screen letting her know she’d been tagged in yet another comment.
Her stomach dropped as she scrolled away from it, but not before she caught a glimpse of the comment: slut, you deserve everything coming to you.
Her pulse quickened as a familiar knot of anxiety tightened in her belly. Letting the world fade to black, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, like her yoga instructor had told her to. In for five counts, out for five counts through the mouth.
Comments like these were nothing new. She’d been dealing with them since she started making a name for herself in her late teens. Developing a thick skin had been a necessity. Still, she was human first, and the constant barrage of negativity got to everyone eventually.
When she opened her eyes again, she was staring at the roses, the velvety petals soft and inviting. Maybe they were from someone who cared? A moment of kindness in a sea of abuse. On instinct, she snapped a quick picture, zooming in on the flowers, and added it to her stories with the caption:
Thank you for the beautiful roses and love. You know who you are.
Take that, trolls. She wouldn’t let them ruin her vibe. Time to focus on the people who cared.
But as she stared at the screen, a strange chill gnawed at her. Something didn’t quite add up. Doubt rippled through her. Something about the flowers, the card. The way they were propped at her doorway.
Before she could even finish thinking about it, another notification pinged, this time from an unfamiliar user account. Against better judgment, she opened it.
I’m glad you liked the roses. I’m just getting started.
Her heart skipped a beat, then another as her gaze fixed on the screen.
She shouldn’t have opened it. But now that she had, she couldn’t look away.