Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
Deacon
I never looked at my watch, so I had no idea how long we stayed in that car. By the end of it, as Nathan pulled the car back into its parking spot, I was biting my lip to keep myself under control. I was not going to be a cliché blushing virgin who came just from having their hand held. I wasn’t even a virgin. Sure, I’d never gone quite... that far, but I’d certainly done enough other things that the title of virgin no longer applied to me.
The car came to a stop, and I tried desperately to calm my racing heart.
“Give me your phone.”
I stared at Nathan dumbly for a moment, not comprehending the sudden demand.
He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked. “Your phone,” he repeated, looking far too smug.
My hand was released from the stick shift for the first time since we started driving, and my fingers tingled as I pulled out my phone and handed it to him.
He quickly typed something into the device before handing it back to me. “My office. Ten o’clock on Monday. You’re local, right?”
My brain still felt like it had been replaced with Jello and I struggled to keep up with what he was saying. “Um... yeah, I live nearby. It’s why I was chosen when the designer who originally had my place in the show dropped out. I could get something together quickly.”
“Good,” Nathan nodded as he opened the door and stepped out of the car. “That’ll make things easier.”
I nodded for a moment as well, until I realized I had no idea what he meant. “Wait... what’ll be easier?”
He leaned back into the open door, one arm braced against the car’s frame. “To hire you as my new designer. Assuming you pass the interview, of course, but...” His gaze flickered up and down over me. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem for you.”
Then he was gone, and I was left sitting alone in the car. I continued to sit there, dumbfounded, until the museum staff reminded me that they needed to put the car away.
Still half lost in a daze, I returned to the banquet, but I’d barely stepped through the door when I was immediately dragged out again.
“Where have you been,” Kiki hissed under her breath as she pulled me toward the prep area that acted as the backstage for the runway. There were still people here as well, mostly other designers and models, but it was at least more private than the banquet room. “I have been looking everywhere for you. Did you get drunk? What...”
She trailed off as she got a good look at me. I knew how I must look. Rumpled and dazed, it probably seemed like I’d been up to something scandalous.
Her whisper turned into a screech as she started hitting my arm repeatedly. “Tell me you did not throw away everything we’ve been working for just to get laid.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t. I... um, I think I got a job interview.”
She finally stopped hitting me, but she still didn’t look pleased. “A job interview? Where?”
“With Fantaisiste .”
I thought she would be happy, but she just looked more upset. Or maybe that was disbelief twisting her face. “ Fantaisiste ? Really? Whose dick did you have to suck to get that?”
Suddenly feeling exhausted, I collapsed into one of the folding chairs set up backstage and rubbed at my temples. “I didn’t do that. You know I’d never... sell myself like that. I just... spent some time talking with Nathan Sterling.”
“Nathan Sterling?”
Kiki’s tone caught my attention. She knew everything about every prominent figure in the high fashion world. I expected her to already know everything she needed to know just from a single name.
Instead, she started laughing so hard she doubled over.
“Deke. I love you, but you’re an idiot. I’ve researched everyone here and I’ve never even heard the name Nathan Sterling. You’ve been duped.”
I just stared at her as she continued to laugh.
Had I been tricked?
To what end?
If Nathan and I had actually slept together, I might understand. Being lied to just to get me into bed would suck, but it was realistic.
Tricking me just to hold my hand didn’t make sense.
As I sat there swimming in a mix of confusion and disbelief, a noise caught my attention. At first, I thought Kiki was still laughing oddly, but no, the sound was too far away.
Was someone else laughing?
It didn’t sound right.
Curious, and a little worried, I stood up and wandered in the direction of the noise. Kiki called my name in question, but I didn’t respond, so she ran after me.
Getting closer to the sound, I realized it wasn’t laughter at all. Someone was screaming.
In the far corner of the backstage area, someone had opened a closet to reveal what looked like a large bundle of cloth.
A very familiar bundle of cloth.
Pushing aside the screaming person, I got a better look inside the closet.
It was the model who was supposed to present my original finale. She was wearing my missing dress, and she was very, very, dead.