Valentina had seen who was opening the show when she had leapt onto the catwalk and then walked up and down it with indisputable grace. So that was Aurelie Engel. She had not seen her at the London show because of what was said to be an ankle injury. She saw now why people loved her. She was good at what she did. It did not hurt that she was also drop-dead gorgeous.
It deepened the resentment and unease Valentina felt toward her. She felt her jaw clench as she unconsciously scanned the audience. People were still murmuring about Aurelie's performance. She caught one man, a powerful figure in the fashion world, and a well-known editor, leaning toward his companion, his eyes still fixed on the runway. "That one," he said, voice brimming with admiration. "She's the kind you don't forget."
