The group stayed behind for a simple lunch at the Victoria's Secret studio in Brooklyn, with Simon treating everyone to takeout. Despite the casual setting, the atmosphere felt subdued.
Everyone was still preoccupied with the recent announcement that the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show would be on hiatus. For the gathered supermodels who had gained the most from the show, the impact of its suspension was even more profound.
It was hard to imagine another platform that could provide such significant exposure without this iconic "Super Bowl of fashion." The industry viewed modeling as glamorous, yet it was actually one of the lowest rungs in the entertainment world—careers were short, advancement was limited, and models often relied on associating with singers or actors to gain traction.
Victoria's Secret had changed that dynamic, giving models a direct path to fame through association with the brand. Just being labeled as a "Victoria's Secret Angel" could make a model's career skyrocket.
Exposure led to fame, which meant money.
People weren't drawn to modeling out of passion alone—they wanted a path to wealth, luxury, and, ideally, entry into the exclusive circles of fame and fortune.
"Simon, I think Grace's suggestion was great," Stephanie Seymour, one of the six Victoria's Secret Angels, said as she sat close to Simon, subtly cozying up. "I get what you mean. The show isn't like the Oscars with new movies each year, or the Super Bowl, which has the suspense of a win or loss. But it still has a huge fan base, and the show is at its peak. Holding it every two years would be better than canceling it."
Sitting on Simon's other side, Irene Lande quietly nibbled on her food, feeling surprised by his decision. Though she was somewhat removed from the fashion world, she understood the significance of the Victoria's Secret show.
As she listened to Stephanie's words, a part of her admittedly liked the idea of the show ending, as it meant those models would be further from Simon. Yet even she had to admit that suddenly losing such a celebrated event felt like a shame.
Simon, sensing Stephanie's perfume, suddenly asked, "Stephanie, did you have another child earlier this year?"
Stephanie was a bit surprised. "Oh, you knew?"
Shrugging, Simon responded, "I keep up with the news. Grace also mentioned it to me at some point. I wasn't thinking much of it until now." Teasingly, he added, "So, doesn't this mean it's time for you to settle down?"
Stephanie nearly rolled her eyes.
She had her first child with her current husband, Peter Brant, and had some regrets afterward. For a model, marrying a billionaire and having children could be considered the pinnacle, but then her career, which had been waning, unexpectedly revived thanks to Victoria's Secret. For someone as restless as Stephanie, marriage began to feel like a burden.
And then, there were the kids.
She eventually married because she and her much-older fiancé had negotiated a prenup for a long time, finally reaching an agreement. But, once it was signed, there was no going back.
In the fashion world, many expected the models to embody a lifestyle that couldn't easily include marriage and kids. Since her prenup included inheritance clauses, Stephanie carefully timed the birth of her second child this year to ensure her rights.
Subtly cozying up to Simon again, Stephanie shifted the conversation. "Simon, if the show's canceled, what happens to the Angel contracts?"
"The show may be paused, but we'll still have Angels."
"So, when my contract expires next year, I can renew it?"
The original five Angels—Cindy Crawford, Yasmeen Ghauri, Tyra Banks, Helena Christensen, and Stephanie Seymour—had varied contract lengths. Cindy signed for three years, while the others were given five-year contracts. Cindy's contract had already ended, and Simon had replaced her, while Yasmeen had chosen to leave for personal reasons. The brand had also added two new faces from the PINK sub-brand, bringing the total to six Angels: Tyra Banks, Helena Christensen, Stephanie Seymour, Eva Herzigová, Fernanda Lima, and Christy Turlington.
Stephanie Seymour, who was now 28, hoped to renew her contract, as the Victoria's Secret show and her Angel status had allowed her to retain her influence. Without it, she couldn't compete with Fernanda and Christy, who were both younger and had a closer relationship with Simon.
Simon gave her a teasing look. "Let's talk about next year when it comes."
Noticing the look, Stephanie moved in a bit closer. "Can't we decide now?"
Raising a brow, Simon replied, "Are you sure we can?"
From the other side, Irene cleared her throat, reasserting her presence.
Stephanie paid her no mind, murmuring, "Simon, just call me anytime."
Irene leaned in, glaring at Stephanie, who made no effort to lower her voice.
Simon, seeing Irene's mounting frustration, reached over to gently hold her waist and whispered in her ear until she relaxed, eventually rolling her eyes and returning to her meal.
Turning to Stephanie, Simon whispered a few instructions, then gestured to the composed "Queen A" seated across from him. "Go talk to Allison; she'll help you out."
Stephanie's eyes widened slightly but, after a pause, rose and walked over to Allison Knowles.
Once she was out of earshot, Irene leaned in suspiciously. "What did you tell her?"
"Nothing."
Irene gave him a look of disbelief, watching as Allison set her food down and led Stephanie to a nearby room. Before she could ask more questions, Cindy Crawford joined them.
This model seemed even more formidable to Irene.
Unlike Stephanie, Cindy, who had just turned 30, was composed. She was aging out of the modeling world, but her status as an '80s supermodel still attracted plenty of opportunities, even if she knew her prime years were behind her.
She'd once tried to break into Hollywood with Fair Game last year, but the film's failure effectively ended her chance at a film career. Hollywood, especially for women, could be cruelly unforgiving.
Still, Cindy was grounded enough to adapt to her situation and mentioned to Simon that she was planning on getting married soon. "His name's Rande Gerber. He used to be a model, too. We've known each other for years, and now he's running a bar business in Manhattan."
Simon nodded knowingly.
Classic. As people say, she'd "played around enough and was ready to settle down." Cindy had chosen a sensible route, one that was likely to lead to success, unlike the supermodels constantly chasing billionaires. Later, Rande Gerber would leverage Cindy's connections to establish a thriving business and raise their daughter, Kaia Gerber, who'd follow in Cindy's footsteps.
Cindy glanced at Simon with a smile and suggested, "Are you free tonight? Maybe we could all go out."
Simon was intrigued but shook his head. "I have a party later." His schedule was packed, and if he wanted to keep things under control, every hour was accounted for.
Cindy nodded understandingly, "Some other time, then."
Simon smiled and asked, "So, are you really ready to get married?"
"Yeah," Cindy gestured toward the younger models. "Compared to them, I'm an old lady. It's time to settle down."
"You're anything but old."
"Mmhmm…"
"Ahem."
Joking a bit more, Cindy eventually moved away, leaving room for another girl to join Simon.
About ten minutes later, Allison and Stephanie returned. Irene, who had been keeping an eye on Stephanie, immediately noticed the model's flushed face, as if something had just happened.
What was going on?
She glanced over at Allison, who merely set down an opaque coffee cup for Simon before quietly returning to her seat.
What?
Irene still felt puzzled, unable to understand what had just happened until Simon offered her the coffee cup to try. Then, realization struck her.
That scoundrel!
When lunch ended, Irene was still fuming, holding onto her irritation as they got in the car. She wore an unmistakable "I'm still mad, so you better fix this" look.
Simon gently placated her throughout the ride back, and by the time they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and returned to Manhattan, Irene finally softened but couldn't help muttering, "Simon, you're so ridiculous."
Simon held her hand, "I'll drop you off on the way."
She looked up, briefly crestfallen.
Simon quickly clarified, "I've got a meeting at Goldman Sachs this afternoon, and it's a bit dry. You wouldn't want to tag along for that, right?"
Even though she wanted to be with him, she understood she couldn't be part of that meeting. "And tonight?"
"There's a management party for Daenerys Entertainment's East Coast team. I'll come pick you up."
Content, she nodded.
Simon held her hand, "But, Irene, you should understand—I won't always have much time to spare."
"Hm?"
"I mean, you're free, you know that?"
"Are you saying you're breaking up with me?"
"…"
"Jerk."
"Do we really have to keep emphasizing this?"
Irene glared at him, "You pursued me, and now you want to leave?"
Shaking his head, Simon replied, "I never actively leave anyone. I just mean that all of you are free to make your own choices. I can't provide you with a 'normal' relationship, let alone marriage—that's just not possible."
Irene suddenly thought of something. "Hey, why do your other… companions have assistants, but I don't?"
Simon was surprised. "Do you need one?"
"Don't I?"
"You're the Lande heiress; surely you have plenty of staff."
Clearly in a stubborn mood, she responded, "So that means I can't have any?"
"Of course not. I'll arrange for Angra to get in touch with you soon."
Irene immediately began negotiating, "Others have two, right?"
"Hm?"
"I want four. No, eight."
"What would you even do with that many?"
"I just want eight."
"Even Janet doesn't have eight. Really, that many people can be quite a hassle…"
"That's my problem. Are you giving them to me or not?"
"Yes."
Simon, seeing her indignant look, agreed immediately.
The training of the "Westeros maids" had continued steadily. Simon saw them as a support system, helping the women close to him manage aspects of their lives or personal endeavors.
In Irene's case, Simon hadn't expected her to be so attached. As the Lande heiress, she had wealth and independence. Simon initially thought she'd eventually move on, given her background. He hadn't anticipated this level of persistence.
Settling in the car, Irene leaned into his shoulder, mumbling, "You really are a scoundrel, Simon."
_________________________
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! $5 for all!!]
[w w w . p a t r e o n .com / INNIT]
[+100 PowerStones = +1 Chapter] [+5 Reviews = +1 Chapter]