Fashion Faux Paw Read Free Page B

days.” Lilah almost sneered. “I’m starving,” she announced, her tone demanding. “Is there anything decent to eat around here?”
    Lilah’s voice was so loud just about everyone within shouting distance turned to stare. Couldn’t the woman see the table filled with food?
    Standing, Kitty picked up an energy bar. “There’s plenty of fruit, and I hear these are good, with lots of flavors to choose from. They even have—”
    “Aah! Are you trying to kill me?” Lilah’s voice rose to shrill. “There are peanuts in that bar.”
    Kitty’s face flushed red. “Sorry, sorry. I forgot about your allergy. Let me read the list of ingredients. There’s got to be one here that doesn’t contain peanuts.”
    Ellie continued to watch the show. The rude designer was as thin as a supermodel and quite beautiful, but she didn’t look healthy. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and her wrinkled forehead added years to her face.
    The crowd murmured as Lilah kept muttering. “She knows about my food problems . . . clear the night of . . . could kill me . . . Thank God I have my pen.”
    “That dame needs a conk on the head,” Rudy stated, watching Lilah retrieve her bag from under the table and begin to dig.
    When she finished complaining, she ignored a flustered Kitty, who was still reading ingredients from the different bars, and flounced to Ellie’s side. Narrowing her hazel eyes, she inspected Rudy from head to tail. “I thought all the dogs in this contest were purebreds. This one certainly isn’t.”
    The second Ellie heard the comment she wrapped her fingers around her yorkiepoo’s muzzle. “This is Rudy. He’s a pound puppy of the best kind, and he’s all mine.”
    Kitty stopped reading the energy bars and glanced at Ellie. “You’ll have to forgive Lilah. Besides her peanut allergy, she has another severe affliction. It’s called overinflated ego.”
    Several of the people standing nearby laughed. As if making a point, the designer put her hands on her nonexistent hips and nodded toward her mini Schnauzer. “My baby’s competed in conformation shows, so I know something about the canine world. I was assured I’d be fitting a purebred dog.”
    “Just because a dog isn’t a purebred doesn’t mean they’re bad, or untrainable, or unlovable,” Kitty interjected.
    Lilah’s kohl-lined eyes narrowed. “Poor you, still feeling sorry for yourself because you didn’t get one of the design spots.” She focused on Ellie, who felt as if she was sitting center court at the US Open. “Have you seen Cassandra or Yasmine? They’re my models, and I wanted to take a good look at them before their fitting.”
    “Uh, no,” Ellie said. “But maybe I could—” She stifled a grin as a Bradley Cooper look-alike dressed in a black tank top and well-fitting black jeans strolled to her side.
    “Hello,” he said, sizing her up from head to toe. “I’m Marcus David. One of the designers.” He shook Ellie’s hand with a strong grip that matched his generous biceps. “I heard I was getting a new plus-sized model. Is that you?”
    Plus-sized model? Ellie didn’t know whether to be ticked off or pleased. To this group, plus-sized was a term for anyone who wore a size twelve or larger, but asking if she was a model . . . ? “Um, nope. I’m in charge of the dogs.”
    He gave her another once-over. “Too bad. Not about the dog thing, but about the modeling. Your hair is fabulous, and so are your eyes. I could do a lot with you, if you wanted to change professions.”
    “Marcus, really,” Lilah began. “She’s not exactly model material. Her shoulders are too broad, and her ass, well—”
    “Well, nothing,” Marcus said, huffing out a breath. “I could do great things with that—”
    “Maybe you should stick to designing for chubby women, since they do run in your family.” She folded her arms and shifted her gaze to Ellie. “This one reminds me of—”
    “Excuse me, but I’m standing right