Chapter 31
DASH
Istood there watching the sky open up like someone had turned on faucet.
Shit.
This wasn’t in the forecast. Did I check the forecast? No. I did the thing every other normal person did—I looked up at the clear blue sky and used my critical thinking skills.
I had been busy the last hour, in and out of tents finalizing things. I didn’t think I needed to doubt the fucking sky.
The crew scattered like ants, rushing for any cover they could find.
Models shrieked and fled toward the backstage tents, their hair and makeup already ruined.
The runway—my perfect, pristine runway that had taken days to construct—was getting absolutely hammered.
Water pooled on the surface, turning it into a reflecting pool.
The audience section was a disaster. Mom’s friends were scrambling for their purses, holding programs over their heads in a futile attempt to stay dry.
The white chairs were already soaked. The flowers were getting beaten down by the rain.
Influencers clustered under the first-aid tent, phones out, probably already posting about the chaos.
Thunder cracked overhead. And then the wind picked up. The fabric draping from the columns whipped violently, threatening to fly out to the sea. One of the lighting rigs swayed dangerously.
“Kill the power!” someone shouted.
The audio tech was frantically unplugging speakers, rushing them toward the equipment vans before they got fried.
The perfect playlist we’d spent hours curating was never going to happen.
The mics were useless in this. Everything was falling apart.
The show was supposed to start in an hour. One hour.
Adrian jogged up, his hair already plastered to his head. “Dash, we need to make a call.”
“I know.”
“This isn’t safe. The lightning alone is bad. If any of this rigging comes down—”
“I know.”
Elizabeth rushed over, Buck clutched to her chest while Mandy tried to shield them both with her jacket. “What would Bernadette do?” Mandy asked, raising her voice over the wind. “If she were here, what would she say about safety?”
I knew exactly what Bernadette would say. She’d shut this whole thing down without a second thought. Safety first, always. That was her entire job.
“We need to pack this up,” Adrian said, the CEO in him already making the call I couldn’t. “Get everyone inside, protect the equipment we can, and figure out a backup plan.”
“I booked for tonight only,” I said. “There is no backup plan.”
Briggs appeared from somewhere, water streaming down his face. He started barking orders at the crew, his lawyer brain immediately shifting into crisis management mode. “Everyone under cover! Now! Production assistants, start securing anything that can blow away! Models, get to the hotel!”
I watched them scatter, following Briggs’s commands. My brother was good at taking charge, making decisions under pressure. It was what he did.
But this was my show. My vision. My chance to prove I wasn’t the fuck-up everyone thought I was. No. No fucking way was I letting a little water from the sky obliterate everything I’d worked for. An idea started forming. It was crazy. Probably impossible. But it might work.
I needed to find Krista. She would know how to execute it.
She could help me figure out how to make it happen.
Or she’d tell me I was being an idiot. I understood what my family was saying, but I needed Krista to tell me she’d already run through all the scenarios and there weren’t any available solutions.
I turned and started scanning the chaos for her. She had to be here somewhere.
“Elizabeth,” I said to her, grabbing her attention. “Where’s Krista?”
She grimaced and suddenly looked very guilty. “Dash, I’m so sorry. She left.”
The words didn’t make sense. They did, but they didn’t. “What?”
“She left for the ferry about an hour ago.”
Of course she’d left. Of course she’d bailed the second things got complicated. I was pissed. I needed her and she fucking abandoned me. But beneath the hurt was regret for every word I had said in anger. For letting her walk away without fighting harder.
But I didn’t have time for any of that right now. I had a show to save.
I turned back to the set, rain streaming down my face, and made a decision. I was pushing forward. With or without her. With or without anyone’s help. This was my show, and I was going to make it happen.
“Adrian!” I shouted over the storm. “Get everyone back here! Tell them we’re not canceling!”
He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Dash, be reasonable. That’s crazy.”
“I’m being completely unreasonable, and I don’t care!” I wiped water from my eyes. “This is happening. Tonight. I just need to figure out how.”
Briggs appeared beside Adrian, both of them staring at me with identical expressions of concern. Great. The responsible brothers were about to stage an intervention. The babysitter didn’t do the trick, so now they were going to bully me themselves.
“Listen to me,” I said before they could start. “I have an idea. It’s crazy, but it might work. I need everyone to trust me. Please.” I looked at both of them. “I know I’ve given you plenty of reasons not to trust me. I know my track record. But I’m asking you to trust me now. Just this once.”
They exchanged a look.
“You know the legal liability you’re putting on us,” Briggs said.
“Yep.”
This was it. This was the moment that would define everything. My moment. Sink or swim. And I was an excellent fucking swimmer.
“Listen up!” I shouted, my voice carrying over the sound of rain hammering against the tents. “I know this looks bad. I know we’re all wet and miserable and you’re probably thinking we should pack it in and go home.”
People stopped moving. Models with makeup running and hair flat against their scalps all looked at me. I had all eyes on me. This was my moment.
“I didn’t come here to quit. I didn’t spend weeks planning this show, coordinating every detail, and working my ass off to make this perfect just to let a little rain stop us.” I gestured at the runway. “This is a Blackwell show. And Blackwells don’t quit.”
I saw something like pride flicker across Adrian’s face.
“So here’s what we’re going to do,” I continued, pulling off my jacket and tossing it aside. “We’re going to embrace this. We’re going to make this the most unforgettable runway show anyone has ever seen. We’re showing off swimwear. It’s meant to get wet!”
I kicked off my shoes and socks. My shirt was already clinging to my chest, my pants soaked through. I probably looked ridiculous. But I also felt alive. Invigorated.
“Who’s with me?” I called out.
For a moment, nothing happened. Adrian and Briggs looked like they were debating which hospital to check me into. Then one of the models stepped forward. She was wearing a robe over her first outfit, her hair wet and in thick curls. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, or it had melted off.
“I’m in,” she said. “Not like I can get any more drenched than I already am.”
Another model joined her. Then another. The crew started talking among themselves. The influencers were buzzing. This was content gold and they knew it. A fashion show in the rain, snatching victory from the watery jaws of defeat? This was going to break the internet.
“Lighting crew!” I shouted. “I need you to angle those rigs straight up. I want the light hitting the rain. Make it look like diamonds falling from the sky.”
Everyone got moving. When the lights came on, the effect was stunning. The rain caught the golden light, making it look like a blessing instead of a curse.
“Sound crew, get those speakers under cover but keep them running. We need music.”
They nodded and got to work.
“Models, you’re going to walk this runway like you own it. Rain or shine, you’re goddesses. Act like it.”
Hair and makeup were moving in. I had been on enough sets to know they could cement that makeup on their faces. It would take a sandblaster to get it off, but we could deal with that afterward.
When I turned around, Adrian looked stunned. Briggs was grinning, which was a strange look on him. Mom had her hand over her mouth. Elizabeth was bouncing Bucky, who seemed delighted by all the chaos.
“Dash,” Adrian said, stepping closer. “This is insane.”
“I know.”
“It’s also brilliant.”
“Thanks.”
“You need help?”
“I need someone to manage the front of house. Make sure our guests are comfortable. Get them towels, umbrellas, whatever they need. Make them feel like they’re part of something special instead of just wet and miserable.”
“On it.” He turned to Briggs. “You’re with me.”
“Mandy,” I called out. “I need you to coordinate with the models. Make sure everyone knows the running order.”
“Got it!” She was already heading into the model tent.
I turned to find Callum watching. “What do you need from me?”
“Social media,” I said. “Get those influencers organized. Have them livestream this. Tweet about it. Post stories. If we’re doing this, we want the whole world watching.”
He grinned. “Consider it done. You really think this is going to work?”
I shrugged. “It has to. If it doesn’t, the swimwear still gets attention because everyone is going to be talking about the spectacular failure. It’s a win-win.”
“You don’t mind them chalking this up to a disaster?”
“It won’t be the first one I’ve navigated.
” I looked my cousin up and down, thinking I had judged him too harshly when he’d shown up here.
He had the Hollywood good looks of all the LA Blackwells, of which there were many.
I figured I might as well put it to good use.
“After you do that, you want to be in the show?”
He laughed. “Seriously?”
I gestured to my bare feet and untucked shirt. “Lean in or stand out.”
He started laughing and kicked off his loafers. Then he stuffed his socks into his loafers. “Lean in.”
“Good man.” I clapped him on the shoulder.
“Good luck,” he said before walking over to where the influencers were gathered.
No matter how this all ended up, no one would be able to say I didn’t go for it.