Married by Midnight (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Series, #12) Read Free

hopefully a season of superb sales to follow.
    It was another fifteen minutes before Reed was able to escape to the back.  He pushed through the crowd of models, some changing in the hallways, all in various stages of undress, none of them seeming the least bit perturbed that a man was striding past.
    His eyes skimmed the crowd but there was no sign of the petite waif with the copper-gold hair.  Frowning, he headed for the show director’s office.  “Where is she?”
    He had to shout above the din inside the room which was so full of people he could hardly find the director in the crowd.  “The girl who fell on stage.  Where can I find her?”
    At his words Ali Messam extricated himself from the mass of bodies surrounding him and pushed to the front of the room.  “Mr. Davidoff.  My humblest apologies, sir.”  He clasped his hands in front of his chest and gave Reed a look of deep regret.  “It was my fault.  One of the models suddenly fell ill and I was forced to grab whoever was available. That dress, it had to be shown.  Do you not agree?”
    “Yes, yes.”  Reed frowned, his eyes searching the room. He had no interest in the ‘whys and wherefores’.  He just wanted to find the girl.  “Now where is she?”
    Ali lifted his shoulders and shook his head.  “I do not know, Mr. Davidoff.  After she fell down she ran back to the dressing room and then she disappeared.”
    “How can I find her, then?  What’s her name?”
    “I do not know that either.”  Ali lowered his brows.  “But if I may say so, sir, it will make no use to find her.  This girl, she has nothing.  You should have seen the clothes she was wearing.  What sense would it make to sue?”
    Reed glared at the man who was beginning to try his patience.  “What’s her name, dammit?  And don’t tell me who I can and can’t sue.”
    Ali jerked back, obviously surprised by Reed’s aggressive tone, then he gave a curt nod.  “Let me get you the list,” he said and turned away.  In less than a minute he was hurrying back with a clipboard on which a sheet of paper was secured.  He shoved it under Reed’s nose.  “We hired forty-three temps for this show, some as models, some as dressers, some as make-up artists.  I believe she must have been one of the dressers.  Definitely not a model.”
    Reed’s eyes skimmed the paper.  “So which one is she?”
    The man looked distressed.  “I don’t know.  I just grabbed whoever was closest at that moment.  I didn’t ask her name.  Maybe when she comes to pick up her check...”
    “And when’s that?  A week or two down the road?  Not good enough.”  Reed snatched the clipboard from the director’s hand.  “Find her and bring her to me.”  With that he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Ali Messam staring open-mouthed after him.
    Reed strode through the milling crowd and headed back to the stage.  Maybe someone in that area could tell him where she’d turned.  Or maybe she hadn’t even left.  Could she still be there, hiding behind the heavy curtains?  A stretch, he knew, but he was willing to give it a try.
    When he got to the now deserted stage there was no-one to be seen. But there, lying to one side on the catwalk lay the gold slipper that the runaway model had abandoned.  Someone must have kicked it to the side and out of the way.
    Reed walked down the runway and bent to pick up the slipper.  Now he understood.  These slippers were way too big for a girl as tiny as the one he’d seen on stage.  No wonder she’d stumbled in them.
    He turned it over in his hand, realizing that a way-too-big abandoned slipper was of absolutely no use to him in this situation.  All he had to go on was a list of names, possibly an address that he could only hope was her real one, and the hope that she’d show up in a week to collect her pay.
    Reed gave a grunt and turned to leave the platform, the gold slipper still in his hand.  He knew he should just let