Fashion Faux Paw by Judi McCoy Page A

it was too late.”
    Cassandra had told her the same thing, so she knew he was correct. “I’m not aware of anyone who has a canine we can borrow. And even then, you need to find a dog that Cassandra would accept as her Yorkie’s replacement.”
    “What about these dogs?” He gestured toward the pen. “There are eight models, but ten animals. Who owns the extras?”
    Ellie nodded at Rudy, who was sitting at attention and following the conversation. “The small gray and white dog is mine, and the mini Schnauzer was Lilah Perry’s. Another model is taking care of him until Ms. Perry’s family can be contacted.”
    “That little one is yours?” He narrowed his eyes. “Hmm, I see.” He studied her boy for a half minute. “Is he a purebred?”
    She grinned. “Rudy is all pound puppy, but they’re the best. He’s smart, playful, obeys commands—”
    “Hey, I wouldn’t go that far.”
    Fettel stood. “Then it’s settled.”
    Rudy cocked his head. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.”
    “Settled?” asked Ellie.
    “I’m giving Ms. McQuagge an ultimatum. Either she uses your dog, or she’s off the show.”

Chapter 6

    Ellie peeked around the curtain shading the near side of the stage about five minutes before the second competition began. The showroom was so crowded many of the attendees had to stand along the perimeter, fighting for space with members of the pushy press. And the press didn’t care if they were in the way. All they wanted were photos or quotes from the big shots of the fashion world.
    She knew from yesterday’s contest debut that Nola Morgan Design drew important names, but the number of people attending this second review had doubled, maybe tripled in size. It was, of course, because of Lilah Perry’s demise that so many people were in attendance. Though they would never admit it, she had a suspicion they’d come on the off chance there might be another murder.
    She watched as the paparazzi snapped photos of anyone who appeared important. Two women sitting to the right side in the front row had to be on the A list, because the press hovered over them like flies on honey, but Ellie had no idea who they were. She had better luck recognizing Heidi Klum, Tim Gunn, Mondo Guerra, and a bevy of past Project Runway contestants, mainly because Rudy had forced her to watch the show’s reruns after she told him about this job.
    And Viv had coached her, too, encouraging her to read the weekly Style section in the New York Times and check out the daily advertisements for additions to the latest collections from Dolce & Gabbana, Lagerfeld, Marc Jacobs, Michael Kors, and all the other famous designers with a new line.
    “See anyone interesting out there?”
    Jumping, Ellie spun around and faced a grinning Marcus David. After heaving a breath, she said, “Sneak up on a person, why don’t you?”
    His smile widened. “Sorry, but I couldn’t resist. You looked like a kid peeking down the stairs to spy on Santa Claus or maybe the Easter Bunny.”
    “I’m just scanning the crowd in hope of recognizing someone. My best friend is a fashion addict, and she’ll expect me to name names next time we talk. Unfortunately, aside from the popular reality show participants, I don’t know a single person out there.”
    He moved next to her, took stock of the crowd, and gave a low whistle. “Wow. The place is definitely filled with movers and shakers.”
    Pulling the curtain aside, she cocked her head. “Who?”
    Marcus nodded. “See those two women in the center of the front row, right side of the catwalk?”
    “I figured they were somebodies, but I can’t place them.”
    “Trust me, if you were in this business you’d be in awe. The one on the left is Anna Wintour, editor in chief of American Vogue. Meryl Streep portrayed her in The Devil Wears Prada. And to her right is Grace Coddington, their creative director. Word is they don’t both cover an event unless it’s the biggest of the big.” He ran a