On the Avenue (29 page)

In the last few minutes before showtime, Lex stood backstage, cuddling Champagne, watching as the customary chaos that comprised all fashion shows took hold: girls running half-clothed to their designated dressing stations, makeup artists frantically doing their final primps, stylists checking and rechecking wardrobe. As chief designer of the line, Lex wouldn't be modeling any of the clothes. She had, however, instructed Coco McKaid to round up nearly thirty of their closest friends from St. Cecilia's Prep to get the job done. The gene pool at St. Cecilia's ensured a better selection than any modeling agency in the city. And here they all were—freshmen, sophomores, juniors, seniors—eager to commandeer the catwalk in Triple Threat.

Cuddling Champagne against her chest, Lex watched as Coco darted into the center of the crazed room and clapped her hands loudly.

“Listen up, girls!” she shouted. “Five minutes till showtime. All of you take your damn places!”

Lex stifled a laugh when Coco shook her head and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Hey, you're doing a great job. The girls look sensational.”

Coco smiled. “I know. I'm so glad it all came together. And by the way, I'm so totally never serving as
Madison's special assistant again. Next fashion show, I'm only modeling. I can't take all the stress!”

“Deal.” Lex touched her shoulder, then scanned the room. No sign of Madison or Park. They were likely still getting touched up. She turned and walked out to the very edge of the threshold. Craning her head sideways, she was able to see the ballroom in its entirety. It was packed. The din of voices drifted on the air as people rushed to take their designated seats. High-profile fashion editors and celebrities occupied the first two rows on both sides of the catwalk, followed by assorted socialites and a handful of other celebutantes. Every major news organization was represented.

And there, cordoned off to one side, was the Italian Fashion Power Club: Donatella, Miuccia, Giorgio, Domenico, and Stefano; seated smack in the middle of the stellar group was Venturina Baci. Venturina was wearing the only Triple Threat piece that wouldn't be modeled on the catwalk—an elegant figure-hugging black gown trimmed in lace. She clutched a framed picture of Madison, Park, and Lex in her lap.

Smiling broadly, Lex cut her eyes to the opposite side of the room, where Trevor Hamilton sat waiting patiently for the show to begin. He was surrounded by his executive team: three personal assistants, two attorneys, his publicist, and several members of
Hamilton Holdings' board of trustees. Yesterday, upon his return to New York, he had officially given the Triple Threat label his blessing.

Excitement surged through Lex's body, but it was quickly eclipsed by feelings of gratitude and peace. After the ordeal of the past week, she was eternally grateful that Madison hadn't been hurt, that Theo and Jeremy had been vindicated, and that Clarence Becker had been hauled off to jail following extensive rectal surgery. There was still a lot that had to be figured out and dealt with, but she was determined to adopt Park's example of composure and utter coolness.

The lights above her flashed. Showtime. Lex dashed through the backstage area and took an adjacent staircase down to the main floor. Quietly, she opened the door that brought her to the very back of the ballroom. Well out of sight, she stood pressed up against the wall, eager to see her dreams unveiled.

The lights dimmed. A series of strobes blasted the catwalk. Then music cut up the air: trance and techno set to a backbeat.

Coco opened the show. Dressed in a stunning lily-white party gown with matching lace gloves and a corseted middle, she powered down the catwalk with her arms flung out and her head bobbing to the beat. A cheer instantly went up in the crowd. Cameras flashed like wildfire. Two, three, four, five: it was
model after model, exquisite piece after exquisite piece. Lex kept her eyes on the fashion editors, pleased when they nodded and quickly inked their notepads.

Then it was Park's turn on the catwalk. She was clothed in Triple Threat day wear; her low-cut leopard-print jeans tapered down evenly to black stilettos, and a black tank top wrapped her upper body. She held a richly textured quilted bag with a gold chain strap. And there, sparkling at her neck, was the Avenue diamond. In gratitude for having recovered the rock, Tiffany had insisted that Park wear it. She was practically swooning as she stood there, enveloped by its magical light.

Suddenly, a male figure came striding down the catwalk. It was Jeremy Bleu, in his first official public appearance since the scandal. He was dressed in the only Triple Threat menswear piece Lex had ever designed—a black double-breasted suit complemented by a sky blue shirt, silver cuff links, and a gold silk tie. A long black scarf hung loosely from his shoulders. He came to a stop directly behind Park, basking in the overflow of flashes. Then, in a purely sensational gesture, he yanked the scarf from his shoulders and slowly wrapped it around Park's neck. He planted a kiss on her bare shoulder as whispers fluttered through the crowd.

It was Madison who closed the show. She drew
the greatest round of applause, coming down the catwalk in a tan floor-sweeping gown that was both ethereal and bold; intricately detailed, it was a backless beauty that rose up and around her neck in a delicate swirl. The gown's frayed hem dragged over matching stilettos.

Lex nodded proudly, then found herself scanning the crowd until she found Theo West. He was sitting in one of the back rows. He looked good but inconspicuous, and a bright smile played across his lips as he stared up at Madison. Lex felt a stab in her stomach. What would become of them? she wondered. How would their complicated romance play out? Would it survive the inevitable swells and dips— especially now, with Hamilton Holdings secretly and strategically plotting to take over the entire West empire? She decided that it didn't matter right now. In this moment, both Madison and Theo were as happy as they could possibly be.

As the show drew to a close, a spotlight cut across the front row and illuminated the one chair that had purposely been kept empty. On it was a glossy issue of
Catwalk
magazine. The crowd rose to its feet in honor of Zahara Bell, who would surely have been present today.

Lex ran back up the staircase and through the backstage area. It was time to take her bow. She stepped onto the catwalk as the spotlight brightened
amid waves of applause. Madison and Park were waiting way down at the end. Lex walked to them, smiling and waving to both sides of the room. They linked hands and posed for the cameras.

When the music died down, a reporter in the front row called out, “So what's next for the Hamilton triplets?”

Lex lowered her gaze and shot him a mysterious wink. “Don't you worry,” she said. “We'll be back
very
soon.”