“If these walls could talk,” Sam said as he walked through the grand foyer, gesturing sweepingly.
Then he turned back and winked at us.
“Well, if these walls could talk, let’s be honest, we’d all be in a lot of trouble, wouldn’t we?”
He laughed at his own joke, and Ollie and I both laughed as well, mostly because it would’ve been awkward if we hadn’t.
“What magazine are you from again?” Sam asked as he led us down a long corridor lined with floor-to-ceiling windows. Little lights glowed beneath us as we walked, sparkling like stars under our feet. “Forgive me, our publicist, Bianca, must have forgotten to program this interview into our calendar. See, the girl’s great at lining things up, but not so good at letting us know about it. Which, admittedly, might not be the best quality in a publicist, am I right? Maybe we should fire her….”
I wanted to defend the girl that we’d thrown under the bus by creating this ruse, but I couldn’t without risking our whole plan. Besides, if the publicist was fired now, it might be a blessing in disguise. Imagine the drama she’ll have to deal with when the public finds out what the twins have been up to.
“We are from French Fur magazine,” I supplied with a slight air of arrogance. “The premier animal magazine for the world’s elite. We only cover the most prominent of society. And their pets, of course.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Sam said as he led us to a part of the house the size of a small auditorium. “I take it we qualify?”
I nearly dropped my facade completely as we were ushered into the room, and I saw how it was decorated.
It was like a museum.
For their dogs.
Inside were human-size statues of dog bones in one corner, dozens of miniature animal-print couches, tiny four-poster dog beds, and what I’m sure were solid gold food and water dishes placed atop a miniature oak doggy table.
And lining the walls were portraits of Lady Godiva and Titan. The animals had clearly sat for every single painting, a feat I’m not quite sure how they’d accomplished.
Uncle Scotty’s entire house could’ve fit into their dog room, and here this was, completely devoted to two pampered dogs.
It was insane.
“A bit over-the-top, I know,” Sam said sheepishly, seeming to read my mind. “It started with just a few dog beds and toys, but then it turned into a whole room. And that’s when we came up with the Pet Palace Project.”
“I see,” I said. And I did. I didn’t really understand it—wasting all this decadence on a few dogs—but I could see what he was saying. At this point, they needed to expand. “Very…intriguing.”
“So, what are we looking at here?” Sam asked, clapping his hands together like he was ready to get to work. “Are we talking a photo shoot? An in-depth feature. The cover?”
I was just about to answer when I felt the presence of someone behind me. There had been no footsteps. No ruffling of clothes. The person had been as quiet as a ninja. But I’d been doing this long enough to know when somebody had entered the room unannounced. It was a skill that had taken me a long time to hone, but had served me well.
So, when the person eventually spoke, it didn’t make me jump. But Ollie did.
“Yes, I’d be very curious to hear what you have planned,” a woman’s voice said from behind me.
The three of us turned to see Sam’s sister standing at the room’s entrance, holding Lady Godiva in her arms and staring at us curiously. She was wearing a green dress with flowers sprinkled all over it. The sleeves were long and billowy, and on her tiny frame, it appeared like the dress was about to swallow her up.
“Mademoiselle Emma,” I said, trying to make my smile appear real. “Well, don’t you look lovely?”
She cocked her head to the side and surveyed me, the slightest of smiles playing on her lips. Then she began to walk across the room as the dress swirled along behind her. The whole thing felt very dream-like, and when I glanced over at Ollie, I could see he was caught up in the show, too.
“If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve dressed up. Funny that we’re only hearing about this now.”
“I was just saying we need to fire Bianca,” Sam said as he plopped down into a nearby chair. “With the show starting to film in the next few days, we need someone who’s on top of things around here.”
“Agreed. It’s not a good look to waste people’s time,” Emma said, joining her brother and taking a seat on the arm of his chair. She put Lady Godiva down on the ground and we all watched as the Pomeranian immediately ran over to a pink satin covered dog bed near a window and lay down. Emma turned her focus back on us and finally gave us what appeared to be a genuine smile. “So, please forgive us for being so clueless about this. Would you mind catching us up on what you’d like to do? I promise from now on, we’ll be model subjects.”
She was so breezy about it. Just like she’d been during the interview at the dog movie. And she seemed truly apologetic—even if she didn’t really have a reason to be.
I decided my cover persona, Brigeet, would be annoyed but would ultimately give the twins a second chance. She would know better than anyone how difficult it was to find good help.
Plus, we needed to stay in their good graces—and on their property—if we were going to hunt down the exotic animals they were rumored to have.
“We would like to do an in-depth interview with the Brasko twins, culminating in a ten-page spread as well as the cover,” I said in my French-American accent. “French Fur only covers society’s most fabulous animal lovers. In the past we have interviewed Simon Cowell, Kristen Bell, Christian Miles…”
As I’d hoped, the twins seemed caught off guard at the mention of their alleged former client. I watched from behind my glasses as the two locked eyes, and Emma gripped the chair beneath her tightly. Sam crossed his legs and leaned back into the furniture before rubbing his neck absently.
Interesting. So, they did know Christian.
Their body language had made that abundantly clear. Both of them had displayed textbook signs of guilt or nervousness when I’d brought him up. But why? Had Christian been telling the truth when he’d fingered Sam to the FBI for the exotic animal traders? Or was there something else that tied him to the twins that would make them this tense? And lastly, was it just Sam running the exotic scam or was Emma in on it, too?
I decided to put on the pressure and see where we ended up.
“Wait—” I said as if the thought had just come to my mind. “You two know Christian, correct? I completely forgot. He’s the one who told me about what it is you do.”
“We know Simon Cowell, too,” Sam said, trying to sound impressive while distancing himself from Christian. “Pre Idol, we all used to have game nights at his house.”
“That was so thoughtful of Mr. Miles to mention us,” Emma said, seeming lost in thought as she traced a flower along the fabric of her dress. “We all sort of run in the same circles—call it the Billionaire Boys club, if you will—but if I’m being honest, we didn’t know each other all that well. What did he say about us? All good things, I hope.”
You mean, did he spill that you two are just as sketchy as he was?
“Obviously, he holds you in high regard, otherwise we wouldn’t be here,” I said, implying that they had passed some invisible test of ours that deemed them worthy of being noticed.
If I hadn’t been watching so closely, I may not have noticed the way their bodies relaxed at this.
“We’ll have to thank Christian for the introduction next time we see him,” Sam said, before realizing what he’d said. He immediately began to blush at his faux pas.
Emma cleared her throat and saved her brother from more embarrassment.
“Of course, that might be a long time from now, given his current…predicament,” she said, trying to be tactful in how she phrased it.
“Unfortunately, I suspect it will be,” I said, trying to sound a bit annoyed by the whole thing. I turned around and began to walk the room, appearing to survey all the dog-inspired tchotchkes that made up the décor. “Christian was a good friend of mine. We’ve known each other for years. I thought it was a shame your country trapped him the way they did. Such a clever man deserves to be honored, not torn down.”
“But he did break the law,” Emma ventured carefully.
“In my country, that’s just called being a businessman!” I said, throwing my arm in the air as if to brush Christian’s indiscretions off. “But alas, we are not in France, we are here. And here, we have you!”
I rapped my hands together twice quickly.
“So, we shall get started?” I asked, not bothering to wait for them to recover from everything that had just been said. I wanted them a bit off-balance. It would make them agreeable and more likely to make mistakes. “Good. We would like you to be the subject of our comeback issue. It will be about the underdog of the moment. It will be about animal print. It will be about the Brasko Twins. It will be fabulous, no?”
Emma and Sam looked stunned, incapable of wrapping their heads around the ramblings of a crazy French editor. They looked at each other as I waited impatiently for them to react. In the end it was Sam who finally spoke.
“Well, we never really went anywhere,” he said with a cocky smile. “So…”
“But you left the spotlight years ago, no? A scandal of some sort as I recall?” I asked, knowing I was poking the bear, but also believing it would get me what I wanted.
Sam frowned as Emma bit her lip.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said indifferently. “The important thing is that you seem to have picked yourself up once again. And now you are king and queen of this jungle?”
Another furtive look between the two.
“What exactly do you mean?” Sam asked. There was something in his eyes now. It wasn’t anger, exactly. Or even fear. More like the look an animal gets when it’s backed into a corner.
Fight or flight.
He was trying to figure out which to do.
Neither was going to get me what I wanted.
The only thing that would do that would be to build a relationship with them. Get them to trust me.
And that would take more time.
“We’d like to highlight everything that will be coming up in your new reality show, of course,” I said finally.
I saw them both visibly relax and knew I’d said just the right thing to keep them from running. Or clamming up completely.
“My dears, I think it’s going to put you back on top,” I continued. “People will worship you again. And with an in-depth feature in French Fur, your standing with the rich and powerful will once again be solidified. With my help, we’ll make the people go wild over you.”
It was what they needed to hear.
They wanted it all back. The fame. The fortune. The power.
And I’d convinced them this was the way to get it.
Go me.
The twins seemed to confer in silence before turning to me.
“We’re in,” Emma said excitedly. “What do you need us to do.”