The Model Spy

Prologue

A sudden rainstorm crept stealthily into the city of Paris. The past autumn weeks had been unusually chilly, but the storm looming in the distance turned the damp fall air even cooler than it had been previously. The storm snuck around corners and crept down alleyways. It hovered above the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre before gradually revealing itself.

Slow drops of rain began to crescendo into a heavy downpour; the music of fall starting quietly before exploding into a booming cacophony. Almost instantly, bereaved tourists ducked into the many warm and welcoming cafes and bakeries. Once the cozy spaces became much too snug for their liking, they turned around. The storm left them with no choice but to head back to their inexpensive, overcrowded hostels and luxurious hotels where they would wait anxiously for the next day.

As the streets were emptying, Adelaide Lefevre walked quickly through the puddles, wishing she had thought to bring an umbrella with her. Her home was a little more than a mile away. It was a walk she could normally accomplish in a quarter of an hour, or so. When she left her apartment that morning, the sky had been a beautiful shade of blue, leaving no inkling that the evening would be so dreadful and grey. With her shoes slipping along the sidewalk, her clothes sopping wet, and the wind and rain plastering her long hair around her face, her usually brisk walk was hindered and slow.

Behind her, feet scraped against the pavement.

She turned her head around swiftly, filled with anxiety. She was sure someone was following her as she left her job, a small modelling agency, on the Rue de Pondichery. At first, she thought nothing of the footsteps, for many people followed her. Usually, they were begging for autographs or pictures or...locks of hair. She was, after all, one of the most beautiful women in all of France. According to Style et Séduction magazine, anyway.

This feeling of being followed had been going on for days. Nearly as soon as she left the front steps of her apartment was when the feeling commenced. The sound of footsteps marched behind her and the feeling of eyes burning into the back of her neck plagued her. Whenever she built up the courage to turn around, no one would be there. Poof. Gone. Fear propelled her forward. She walked so quickly in the mornings, she sometimes thought she was running to the modelling agency's offices, nearly barrelling through the doors.

On that night, like always, just as quickly as the footsteps had started, they disappeared. Adelaide made herself breathe deeply a few times, in through her nose and out through her mouth, as her yoga instructor recommended. All of this hard work was getting to her. Fittings and photo shoots and interviews filled her calendar. Her strict diet and twelve hour workdays were beginning to be too much. They were exhausting her. By the time she threw herself on top of her bed, she was asleep before she could unbuckle the straps of her Gucci heels.

It is nothing to worry about, she scolded herself. Stop being so paranoid.

It hadn't been a good day at work. She spent five hours posing for a fall photo shoot and three hours doing a television special on the upcoming Paris Fashion Week. Another hour of her day was spent trying to escape a locked dressing room. It took two bodyguards, a locksmith, and the camera guy from the television special to break down the door.

Adelaide knew instantly, as she pounded on the dressing room's walls and screamed until her voice grew hoarse, that Christinne LaRoux was behind it all. When it came to the spotlight, jealous models could be beastly and Christinne was the ugliest beast of all. Every runway show was a race, every photo shoot a competition between the two of them. They competed over who had the smaller nose and the bigger boobs and the whiter smile. They sold dirty tips to gossip magazines and coordinated appearances at the city's most luxurious restaurants. Adelaide even got the television special over Christinne after a few drinks with the show's producer several months before.