Never Too Rich (61 page)

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Authors: Judith Gould

Tags: #Fashion, #Suspense, #Fashion design, #serial killer, #action, #stalker, #Chick-Lit, #modeling, #high society, #southampton, #myself, #mahnattan, #garment district, #society, #fashion business

BOOK: Never Too Rich
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You’ll love me even more when you
hear what’s in store,” Jack predicted. “Print ads with Billie Dawn.
Separate ones with just you for downtown magazines like
egg
and
Interview.”

Now William Peters, who had been studying Hallelujah
intently, abruptly shot up out of his tub chair and joined in.
“We’ll launch her with a major press party at M.K., make music
video ads, book her on the talk shows, modeling Edwina G. outfits,
of course—”

“—
and give the Absolute vodka
agency some competition,” Jack thought aloud, his creative gears
whirling, “by doing a series of full-page heavy cardboard ads with
Hallelujah paper dolls and cutout Edwina G. outfits to stick
on—”


Whoa there, guys!” Edwina cut in
firmly. “I can understand your excitement, but hold it. Just in
case it hasn’t sunk in yet, not only is this my show, which
I’
m
running, but that child’s a minor. My very own underage
flesh-and-blood minor, to be exact. So cool it, sit down, and let’s
discuss this step by step before you get completely carried away.
There are things that have to be hashed out. For one thing, we are
not going to exploit any daughter of mine.”


Oh, Maaaaa!” Hallelujah wailed,
and shot Edwina a pleading look. “I
want
to be exploited.
I’d love to be!”


Not if I have anything to say
about it,” Edwina said firmly, “and I do.” Her silver-gray eyes had
turned as intractable and stony as the hull of a battleship on a
cloudy day.


Ma, don’t pull a king-size bummer
on me. Not after gettin’ me all hepped up? Okay?”


I’m not, sweetheart,” Edwina said
gently. “Trust me. I only have your very, very best interests at
heart. If we don’t watch it, these guys are liable to take total
advantage of you. Believe me, they only
look
human.”


So? I don’t mind doin’ it for
nothin’!”


No, sweetums,
no.
If you’re
going to be putting in an honest day’s work, you’re going to
receive an honest day’s pay. Commensurate with the going rate, I
might add. Now, then. We’ve also got to work out little snags such
as school. The last I heard, it
is
still in
session?”

Hallelujah picked at the dangling belt of her
cut-off jacket. “I know
that.”
She pouted. “It’s no tragedy
if I miss a day or two, is it?”


Just hear me out, that’s all I
ask. First off, you don’t know from Adam about
modeling.”


So? I’m a quick study. An’ Billie
Dawn can help me!” Hallelujah looked exhortingly at Billie. “You
will, won’tcha?” she pleaded, her tawny eyes wide and
desperate.


Of course I will, honey!” Billie
declared warmly, draping an arm around her shoulder and giving her
a hug. “I’ll teach you myself.”


Awesome!” Hallelujah eyed her
worshipfully.


You also have to be made aware of
the realities all this would entail,” Edwina went on, “and
before
you leap.”


Yeah, yeah,” Hallelujah mumbled,
shifting restlessly from foot to foot.

Edwina sighed. “You really don’t have any idea what
you would be letting yourself in for. Contrary to popular opinion,
modeling is not a glamorous career. It’s damn hard work.”


So? Who’s afraid of
work?”


I know you’re not, but if you’re
hired as a model, then you first have to be represented by an
agency. We don’t want any conflicts of interest, do we?”


I suppose not.”


Good. That’s why tomorrow, right
after school, you’re expected up at Olympia Models. I took the
liberty of setting up the appointment already.”


Far-out, Ma!” Hallelujah cried.
“You’re the
greatest!”
She was hopping feverishly up and
down. She could see it already.
Fashion shows! Music video ads!
Fame!

 

Chapter 64

 

Girls, girls, girls.

Live girls standing around or sitting on the gray
wool banquettes.

Time-frozen girls staring out from the spotlit
brushed-steel frames on the gray wool walls, and up from the
fashion magazines spread out on all the occasional tables.

And, behind a sleek laburnum door which was opened
or closed by girls going in or coming out, yet more girls, these
without glamorous faces, ruthless cheekbones, or lean, marketable
bodies. They were seated around a huge round laburnum booking
table, with multiline telephones, trays of index cards, and
computer consoles and screens at each work station.

Olympia Models, Inc., was a veritable harem of
female flesh.

The sight of so many sleek beauties crowded in the
reception room stopped Hallelujah in her tracks. Inwardly she
quailed. Turning her head, she looked hesitantly at Edwina, who
smiled encouragingly before taking her by the arm and leading her
to the reception desk. It was manned by yet another striking
beauty, this one an ex-model in her mid-thirties whom age and the
demand for ever-more-youthful faces had relegated to
behind-the-scenes action. She looked up, saw Hallelujah, and
reached for an oversize manila envelope. “Speedy Messengers sure
deserve their name,” she said, holding it out. “You’re getting
faster all the time. Now, this goes to 1301 Sixth Avenue. And for
heaven’s sake, whatever you do don’t bend it! There’re photos
inside.”

Smiling at the receptionist, Edwina cleared her
throat and said, “I’m afraid there’s a little mix-up. You see, my
daughter isn’t a messenger. She’s here to see Ms. Arpel.”

The receptionist looked momentarily nonplussed.
Blushing slightly, she slowly put the envelope back down. “Oh. I
see,” she said. “I’m afraid we aren’t . . . er . . . actively
seeking . . . er . . . people her type at the moment. Besides, Ms.
Arpel is a very busy woman. No one is permitted to see her without
an appointment.”


I know that,” Edwina said, “and we
have one. This is Hallelujah Cooper, and my name is Edwina G.
Robin—”


Oh, gosh!” The receptionist looked
stricken. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea . . . it’s just that . . .
we so often get walk-ins, you know, and . . .”


That’s quite all right,” Edwina
assured her gently.

The receptionist punched a few numbers on her
telephone. “Dolly? Ms. Cooper is here.” When she hung up, she gave
a friendly smile. “Ms. Arpel’s secretary will be right out. Oh,
here she comes already.”

Edwina and Hallelujah turned around.

The woman bearing down on them wasn’t exactly model
material, with her orange Orphan Annie frizz and round rimless
glasses, but she was efficient. After introducing herself, she
said, “I’m to show you in at once. If you’ll please follow me?”

Edwina and Hallelujah followed her briskly down a
short gray-carpeted corridor lined with more spotlit model blowups.
At the end, she paused at another laburnum door and knocked
twice.

Olympia’s voice came from inside. “Come in.”

Dolly opened it and stepped aside, motioning for
Edwina and Hallelujah to enter the spare, brightly lit room. She
did not go in. “Is there anything I can get anyone?” she asked from
the doorway.

Olympia, phone to her ear, covered the receiver with
one hand. With the other she waved at Edwina and Hallelujah and
blew them each a kiss. “I’ll be right with you. Things are a little
crazy around here today, but what else is new? Just sit. Want Dolly
to get you some tea? Coffee? Soda?”


No, thanks,” Edwina said, and
Hallelujah shook her head.


That’s it for now, Dolly,” Olympia
said, still listening to the squawking at the other end of the
line. “Just bring me the three copies of the Cooper contract I had
you prepare, and hold any more calls.”


You got it,” Dolly said. As she
turned around, she nearly collided with a delivery boy from the
local coffee shop.

Olympia motioned him inside. When the kid put the
foil takeout container on her desk, she said, “Dolly’11 pay you,”
and made shooing motions with her hand. Into the phone she said,
“Listen, you want to quibble over prices, you can quibble till you
get blue in the face. It won’t sway me. My girls gotta eat. . . .
Sure, seven hundred an hour’s a lot of money. Be my guest and call
around. See if you can find another Kiki Westerberg at that rate.”
She undid the foil container as she talked and tossed the cardboard
lid into a high-tech waste container. “Don’t mind me,” she said to
Edwina and Hallelujah, covering the receiver again with her hand.
“I didn’t have time for lunch.” She scowled at the
tuna-and-cottage-cheese platter, selected a carrot stick, took a
bite, and lit one of her white-filtered cigarettes. “Yes, Stanley,”
she said into the phone. “You’re catching on . . . that’s right.
I’m intractable. Do what I said. Call around and then get back to
me if you’re still interested. Yeah. ‘Bye.” She dropped the
receiver into the cradle. “Christ!” she said in disgust. “You never
heard so much yeh-yehing in your entire life.” She looked across
the desk at Edwina and Hallelujah, who were seated in the two
facing Mies van der Rohe chairs. “You’d think I was asking for his
blood. Anyway, sorry to have kept you two waiting.”


That’s quite all right,” Edwina
said. “What are old friends for?”

Olympia stabbed out her cigarette, took another bite
off her carrot stick, and cocked her head. She squinted
appraisingly at Hallelujah. “Heaven help me, if I hadn’t known you
were coming I’d never have recognized you.” She smiled in
amusement.

Hallelujah giggled. “It’s the totally awesome new
me. Well? Whaddya think?”


What I personally think doesn’t
matter,” Olympia said pointedly as she lit another cigarette. “At
least, not in here it doesn’t. If you want to hear my private
thoughts on the matter, I’ll tell you. But
outside
these
premises.”

Hallelujah was in rapture. No lecture was coming on,
thank God!

There was a knock at the door and Dolly bustled in
with three copies of the contract. She handed them to Olympia and
hurried back out, shutting the door behind her.

Olympia slid one copy across the glass desk to
Hallelujah, another to Edwina, and kept the third one for herself.
Stabbing out her cigarette, she picked up her Ben Franklins and
pushed them onto the tip of her beaky nose. “As you can see,” she
said, looking from Hallelujah to Edwina over the tops of the
lenses, “it’s a standard contract. What it basically does is
protect the model and this agency.”


And what about the client?” Edwina
quipped.


I’m not here to represent the
client,” Olympia told her flatly.

She’d switched to her business mode, which precluded
any light-hearted banter. “My allegiance lies with the model.”


Have a heart!” Edwina
exclaimed.

Olympia eyed her narrowly. “I do, and believe me,
it’s only big enough for my girls. Since Hallelujah’s about to
become one of them, my sole responsibility is to her.”


Way to go!” Hallelujah
said.

Edwina shot her a steely look. Hallelujah.
Her
Hallelujah. Her one and only. And suddenly now, a
turncoat rooting against her very own mother! Really! This had all
the signs of a major insurrection coming on.


Now, then,” Olympia continued,
oblivious of Edwina’s outrage, “if you’ll look at the first page of
this contract, you’ll see that paragraph one empowers me to deal
with any parties wishing to retain Hallelujah’s modeling services
...”

Edwina nodded as she carefully read through the
paragraph on her copy.


. . . Paragraph two covers the
fact that Hal’s a minor, can work only a limited number of hours
per day, and that it’s all contingent upon her legal guardian. In
other words”—Olympia looked over her glasses at
Edwina—”you.”


Thank God for small favors,”
Edwina muttered dryly.


. . . Paragraph three indemnifies
this agency from liability, damage, and so forth for reasons of
breach of warranties . . .” She waited until Edwina had read it
through. “Is everything agreeable?”


So far, it looks kosher to me,”
Edwina said.


Good. Then let’s go on to
paragraph four, compensation. You’ll notice it gives this agency a
commission of twenty percent, which is the going rate in this
business. Also note that compensation is defined to include all
forms of income, including future residuals.” Olympia waited until
Edwina had read it carefully through. “Any questions
yet?”

Edwina shook her head. “No, it spells everything out
quite clearly.”


Now, then. Paragraph five,
accounting. Subparagraph A authorizes this agency to receive all
monies due Hal, minus the agency commission, of course. Because
she’s a minor, I took the liberty of specifying that it be paid
into a special trust fund which you will set up for
her.”


Good,” Edwina said. “I was going
to suggest that myself.”


On to subparagraph B, which deals
with the agency’s records and bookkeeping. If you have any
questions, now’s the time to ask them.”

Edwina read slowly, nodding thoughtfully to herself
every now and then. “It’s fine,” she said, flipping it to the next
page.


Which brings us to the last
paragraph,” Olympia said. “Six. Term and termination. Subparagraph
A states that any and all compensation received from assignments
this agency has set up, including future residuals from any such
work, will flow through this agency indefinitely.”

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