Stolen with Style by Carina Axelsson Read Free Book Online

can call doing research in a museum resting. “And now I’m on my way to meet Ellie B for dinner. We want to discuss the upcoming show castings. And,” I quickly added, “I thought I would ask her for some tips for tomorrow’s shoot.”
    â€œThat’s great! I’m really starting to feel your passion for fashion! Keep it up, Axelle. Keep it up.”
    Pat quickly gave me the address details for the next day’s now-confirmed Jared Moor show casting, although she still didn’t have an exact time. She said she’d have to call me later with that. Then she told me about a few more castings for later in the week that still needed to be confirmed.
    â€œLike I said this afternoon, we just have to be careful that we respect all of these new laws for underage modeling. The old days are over. No more eighteen-hour days during the shows, even if you want to—as I’m sure you do,” she said loudly. “I could strangle our mayor!”
    And I could thank him , I thought as I put the phone away. I’d need every spare moment I could get for this case.
    ***
    Ellie was already at the restaurant, standing in line waiting to order. She’d come directly from a shoot and still had traces of heavy makeup around her big blue eyes. She was also trying to finger-comb her teased, honey-blond hair into a normal shape.
    â€œ W magazine,” she answered when I looked at her, eyebrows raised, after hugging her. “A sort of goth-meets-haute-couture story. Everything here is yummy,” she went on, pointing to the large chalkboard with the day’s specials written on it. “And it’s all vegan and gluten-free.”
    Typical Ellie , I thought, smiling to myself despite the thought of vegan cuisine. At least I’d had that delicious hamburger for lunch. And anyway, I was happy just to see her.
    It was hard to believe that I’d only met Ellie a week ago in Paris, when I’d gone with my aunt to Miriam’s agency to hear the latest news about Belle La Lune’s dramatic disappearance. London-based Ellie had made the bookers coo with pleasure just by walking into the agency. That was the kind of effect she had on people. No surprise that she was a rising superstar within the fashion firmament. But what had struck me first was how nice and friendly she was—sharp too, I’d noticed as she bantered back and forth with the bookers.
    I’d hoped that she’d be willing to help me go behind the scenes of the fashion world so that I could find Belle La Lune. What I hadn’t counted on was her suggestion that I model—although, in retrospect, it had been a brilliant idea. I couldn’t have come up with a better ruse for sleuthing among the fashionistas if I’d tried, although she’d had to push hard to persuade Miriam’s agency to take me on.
    So between giving me advice for my first photo shoot and helping me search the La Lune mansion for clues—not to mention teaching me how to walk down the runway!—Ellie and I had become fast friends. I was thrilled (and more than a little relieved) that she’d be in New York all week for the shows.
    As we lined up to order, Ellie promised to show me the ropes for Fashion Week, just like she had in Paris. But she said doing New York Fashion Week was basically the same as doing Paris Fashion Week—only the vibe was different.
    â€œHow so?” I asked.
    â€œWell, it’s New York. You know: loud and fast. That whole elegant, delicate Parisian thing is, well…Parisian. Fashion here is sportier, more free—I love it. And by the end of the week, once the shows are in full swing, the city will be crawling with the biggest players in the music industry—rappers, pop stars, you name them—and most of Hollywood follows too. You’ll be fine,” she added quickly when she saw the panic on my face.
    â€œSo how’s it going?” she asked after we’d