thirty-four

HERE’S AN IDEA © CHARLIE DEAN DESIGNS:

There is fashion even among thieves. Kidnappers are sweaty, desperate creatures. Armed robbers are often sloppy. But jewel thieves are style itself in black turtlenecks and nicely fitted trous. No matter what crime you commit, always dress like the jewel thief.

DATE: MAY 4

It is hard to stay focused on the positive when you have kidnapped someone, even if it is for the good of all concerned. The situation was kind of like a Russian constructivist sports ensemble.

It was not the perfect fit for anyone, but at least it was simple and effective and made the most of les options limité.

There were eleven of us in the show. I feel certain Charlie Dean was the only one holding un enlèvement victime while preparing her model. It was something of a distraction, but I overcame it as I did all things.

When the janitor let us in, I led Mischa to the dark dressing room and we took the station farthest from the door so that we could have some much needed privacy, not only to get her ready, but also so we could consult about our prisoner who was really more of a guest, if you think about it without excess emotionalité. He should have been glad. Every moment in the van was one not in the custody of the gendarme, who do not approve of intoxicated and abusive ex-boyfriends of vulnerable women. They would not be giving him any leather seats to lean against or a nice cathode-ray TV to watch.

When I had Mischa settled, I got to work, and in spite of the rather unusual circumstances and her nervous nature, Mischa settled down as I undertook her demanding hair and makeup.

At ten forty-five Mr. Carmichael’s assistants showed up.

“How did you get in?” asked Bijou, poking her head into my station.

At first I didn’t answer, because I was weaving a ribbon into Mischa’s hair and dared not look away.

“How long have you been in here?” asked Tesla.

Mischa told them we’d just been inside for a few minutes.

One of them may have muttered an unkind remark about taking advantage, but I couldn’t be sure, nor was it of concern to me under the circumstances.

Soon the other contestants began to arrive. One brought speakers, and soon the room was filled with music and the soft murmur of voices and giggles.

It was an exciting atmosphere of style and fashion. When I was sure Mischa’s hair was safely and securely arranged—it was as imposing as I’d hoped, the coif of an Elizabethan queen!—and I had her foundation on, I asked her to check on our guest and make sure he was in no distress. Charlie Dean has seen a lot of addicts under the influence in her day and was sure he’d be fine, but it was best to be safe.

“He’s probably sleeping. But still, don’t get too close,” I whispered. “Think of your hair.”

Mischa stared into the mirror at her dramatic coiffure. She gave a small moan like a door with rusty hinges. “I hate him, but I don’t hate him this much.”

“Give it time,” I said. “You will.”

Mischa was gone for so long, I considered going to check on her. I walked out of my station and surveyed the other stations. I considered looking for my art room friends—were they friends? I hoped so—but didn’t want to be rebuffed in such a competitive atmosphere.

I felt a flush of excitement at the thought of seeing Jo. She was going to show something wonderful, I knew. Moments before I gave in to temptation and went to look for her, Mischa came back and climbed into the chair.

“He’s fine,” she whispered. “Sleeping.”

Then her gaze settled on her own reflection.

“This does look amazing,” she said, and smiled.

I loved seeing the smile on her worried face. I couldn’t wait for other people to see Mischa’s beauty brought into focus by my vision for her. Then my thoughts returned to Jo. I’d feel badly for her when I won, but there could only be one scholarship winner.

As though my thoughts were a summons, Jo appeared behind us.

“There you are,” she said. “What time did you get here? You were first, weren’t you?”

Jo was the business in a leather jacket rolled to the elbows, tight leather pants, and a white shirt with white and red and black pattern printed across half of it.

“Phenomenal work, Charlie,” she said, assessing Mischa’s hair. “You’re going to kill it. But not as hard as me.”

Our eyes met in the mirror, and if I hadn’t been wearing my trademark bold blusher, she would have seen the red move up my neck and onto my face.

Perhaps Charlie Dean would make a few moments for dating before her fashion empire was completely established.

Jo came into my work area and leaned in close to me, her face serious.

“Do you have a black eye?” she asked.

I took a step back.

“No. I mean, it’s just a small bruise. It’s nothing.”

She frowned. “Do I need to set somebody straight?”

My blush turned into burning embers.

“No. I ran into—”

“We fell,” said Mischa. She pointed at the scratch on her face. She lied easily. Convincingly. Like an addict. “I was on a step stool while she adjusted something on the dress. I took a wrong step, knocked her down. She scratched me. It was quite the clown show.”

Jo watched us carefully.

“Huh,” she said.

I smiled. “Yes. It was dumb.”

“Be careful today,” said Jo. She stared at me, hard. Then she was gone.

Dazed, I went back to work on the finishing touches of Mischa’s makeup.

“Well, that girl is as hot as two forest fires meeting on a windy day,” said Mischa, the boldness of her words sounding a little out of character.

I didn’t answer.

“She was flirting with you,” said Mischa. “Big-time.”

A small giggle may have escaped me. Très embarrassant! The two of us sounded so foolish. And young. It was very nice, all things considered.

I shook my head to clear it. This was how things went wrong. The designer became distracted. Between the fashion show and Jo and our guest in the van, I had more than enough to concentrate on.

The thought seemed to occur to both of us at once, and we went quiet.

This will all work out, I told myself. The fashion show will proceed. I will win. We will ask the police to collect our guest, who will get the help and correctives he needs. And all will be well.

I would not let doubt creep in now.

And so Charlie Dean proceeded. When Mischa’s makeup was complete and before I helped her into the dress, I took my turn to run outside and check on our guest. If one must detain someone for their own good, it’s important to do so responsibly.