A Crime of Fashion by Carina Axelsson Read Free Book Online Page A

us to push her,” Hervé cried in exasperation, unleashing a torrent of criticism from the other bookers:
    â€œI mean, she couldn’t hope to fit into a sample size – look at how short she is.”
    â€œShort? That’s the least of our worries. What about the glasses and that hair?”
    â€œEveryone is going to think she’s the make-up artist or the stylist’s assistant when she arrives on location!”
    â€œAre we supposed to open a new division called Short and Strange?”
    â€œHow about Little and Odd?”
    â€œOr Weird…and More Weird?”
    â€œAxelle, I’d like to have a word with you – alone,” my Aunt Venetia interrupted.
    I could feel her glaring at me from behind her enormous black sunglasses. All my previous fears came back as she motioned me to follow her into an empty meeting room. She shut the door and stood, hands on hips, lips pursed, ready to launch into me at once.
    â€œYou told me to write an article for Teen Chic so I thought an interview with Ellie B could be a scoop!” My aunt’s eyes narrowed as she made a step towards me. “And I had nothing to do with the Chanel fitting – I promise! It all happened so fast…”
    â€œAxelle, from what I have gathered, nothing just ‘happened’. You told Ellie B she should cancel a job because of an interview – AN INTERVIEW WHICH I KNEW NOTHING ABOUT. Do you have any idea how much prestige that job was worth to this agency? Do you even have any idea who Ellie B is? And since when do you want to be a model? Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you the girl who CHOSE to wear a stained jumper this morning?”
    To say she was furious was to put things lightly. I felt her eyes laser into me from their perfectly made-up sockets. Finally, after a long pause, she broke the heavy silence with the one question I didn’t want to answer.
    â€œThis is all about Belle La Lune, isn’t it?”
    I wanted to hold fast, stay cool and play the what are you talking about ? card – but this meant too much to me. Before I could collect myself, a wave of anger and defiance washed over me. When would I be left alone to do what I wanted to do?!
    My aunt leaped at my silence. I should have known I’d never be able to hide anything from her – she was too sharp.
    â€œIt is! It is about Belle! I saw how you watched the news report last night – you were absorbing every detail! You actually believe you can find Belle, don’t you? And why? Why? Because your grandfather was a detective? Because my mother brainwashed you with years of playing Cluedo? Or is it time to move on from finding missing cats?” She paused for breath. “Axelle, I’ve promised your parents that for one week I will steer you away from potential trouble – and that is what I am going to do. You will not be modelling or spying on the La Lunes and you will apologize to Miriam.”
    â€œAunt V, please, I—” At that moment, Aunt Venetia’s phone rang. It was the Chic: Paris office.
    â€œYes,” she answered curtly. Within three seconds Aunt V’s face had drained of colour. “ What ? Is Ivan on it? Right. Well, get moving. We want damage control now.” She hung up and collapsed into the nearest chair.
    What was going on? I waited as Aunt V slowly stood up then paced up and down the length of the room a few times, her hand held out to silence me. Finally, after a deep breath at the opened window, she spoke.
    â€œAxelle.” Aunt V hadn’t quite yet regained her full composure, but, as her mind began to move beyond the shock, her colour slowly revived. Finally she seemed to come to a decision. What she said next took me completely by surprise. “Axelle, do you really believe you can find Belle La Lune?”
    I was sure it was a trick question.
    â€œWell?” she asked again, turning to face me.
    I looked at her closely