I’ll take care, and thanks!”
He intertwined the fingers of each hand, clicking them noisily as he changed the subject. “So, ready for the fray?”
She paused a moment, thoughts of at least partially setting the record straight for her performance back in Dallas. “Well. Unlike Dallas, at least all my models have shown up today, so all the fashions designed for them will actually fit and won’t need last minute alterations. Other than that, we’ll have to see!”
He smiled that 100 watt smile. “Well, don’t forget, my offer still holds good.”
She grinned as she walked away. She was really getting good at these exit lines as far as Gerard Cinclare was concerned. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m counting on it!” she smiled as she whisked through the door and out of sight.
CHAPTER 12
Back in the changing rooms, it was obvious that show time was getting closer as Vince’s voice was rising in frustration and excitement at a number of octaves per hour.
“No, sweetie,” he was almost squealing at Karen, the model. “The green one is next and then the pant suit!” he rubbed his chrome dome like some sultan rubbing his magic lamp. “Pleeeeease make sure you get the sequence right later, okay, sweetie?”
Karen nodded, half-smiling. “Yes, oh mighty Sultan!”
Francine looked on, still a million things going through her mind. At least she had spoken with Mrs.‘T’ and Alison before she left the hotel and everything was all right in Dallas with no more troublesome phone calls.
Her brain still in overdrive, she sat back and surveyed the scene, checking off in her mind all the minor tasks still to be done before the curtain rolled up on her line.
Looking around, she could see more than a dozen of the country’s high visibility models starting to arrive for their role with the big fashion houses. Each seemed to be followed by a small army of make-up and hair stylists and fussy, old, prune-faced dressers. Francine could never understand why the latter always seemed to look so round-shouldered, emaciated and each seemed to have the proverbial cigarette forever drooping from their lips.
At one stage, Serena, a top model, walked by and gave her a friendly smile. “Let me guess, you’re new here at the zoo?”
Francine smiled and nodded. “I guess so. And now I know why you call it a zoo!”
“What’s the name of your line?” Serena asked.
“Classique Fashions.” even as she said it, Francine wondered if it didn’t perhaps sound a rather trite name, but Serena replied.
“Hmm, I like the name, hope I like the fashions. Good luck!”
“Thanks,” Francine smiled in gratitude. ‘I’m going to need it! ’ she murmured under her breath as Serena was whisked away by a cigarette smoking dresser!
Outside the Fashion Center, it was as if the September night had finally come to life. The street was absolutely blocked with elegant limos and taxis as the glitz and glamour of New York’s fashion scene started to emerge from their penthouses and mansions.
Had Francine been able to take in the scene, she would probably have been even more nervous than she already was. Men in Tuxedos escorting women wearing the most expensive fashion names were everywhere as the select few made their way up the ornate steps of the Fashion Center. Out front, the hungry paparazzi were present in full force hoping to perhaps get a slinky boob shot of a super model or an equally curvaceous thigh shot of some celebrity dame exiting her limo.
However, oblivious to all the glitz and glitter outside, Francine and her team were going through their final routines and sequences, Vince hopping around in the background like a pregnant parrot, emanating squeaks and squeals that the original feathered vocalist would have been proud of.
Champagne and hors d’oeuvres were flowing out front when Francine took a quick peak through the curtain. There, at the end of the catwalk, she could see the ‘vultures’ gathering. From her viewpoint,
He intertwined the fingers of each hand, clicking them noisily as he changed the subject. “So, ready for the fray?”
She paused a moment, thoughts of at least partially setting the record straight for her performance back in Dallas. “Well. Unlike Dallas, at least all my models have shown up today, so all the fashions designed for them will actually fit and won’t need last minute alterations. Other than that, we’ll have to see!”
He smiled that 100 watt smile. “Well, don’t forget, my offer still holds good.”
She grinned as she walked away. She was really getting good at these exit lines as far as Gerard Cinclare was concerned. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m counting on it!” she smiled as she whisked through the door and out of sight.
CHAPTER 12
Back in the changing rooms, it was obvious that show time was getting closer as Vince’s voice was rising in frustration and excitement at a number of octaves per hour.
“No, sweetie,” he was almost squealing at Karen, the model. “The green one is next and then the pant suit!” he rubbed his chrome dome like some sultan rubbing his magic lamp. “Pleeeeease make sure you get the sequence right later, okay, sweetie?”
Karen nodded, half-smiling. “Yes, oh mighty Sultan!”
Francine looked on, still a million things going through her mind. At least she had spoken with Mrs.‘T’ and Alison before she left the hotel and everything was all right in Dallas with no more troublesome phone calls.
Her brain still in overdrive, she sat back and surveyed the scene, checking off in her mind all the minor tasks still to be done before the curtain rolled up on her line.
Looking around, she could see more than a dozen of the country’s high visibility models starting to arrive for their role with the big fashion houses. Each seemed to be followed by a small army of make-up and hair stylists and fussy, old, prune-faced dressers. Francine could never understand why the latter always seemed to look so round-shouldered, emaciated and each seemed to have the proverbial cigarette forever drooping from their lips.
At one stage, Serena, a top model, walked by and gave her a friendly smile. “Let me guess, you’re new here at the zoo?”
Francine smiled and nodded. “I guess so. And now I know why you call it a zoo!”
“What’s the name of your line?” Serena asked.
“Classique Fashions.” even as she said it, Francine wondered if it didn’t perhaps sound a rather trite name, but Serena replied.
“Hmm, I like the name, hope I like the fashions. Good luck!”
“Thanks,” Francine smiled in gratitude. ‘I’m going to need it! ’ she murmured under her breath as Serena was whisked away by a cigarette smoking dresser!
Outside the Fashion Center, it was as if the September night had finally come to life. The street was absolutely blocked with elegant limos and taxis as the glitz and glamour of New York’s fashion scene started to emerge from their penthouses and mansions.
Had Francine been able to take in the scene, she would probably have been even more nervous than she already was. Men in Tuxedos escorting women wearing the most expensive fashion names were everywhere as the select few made their way up the ornate steps of the Fashion Center. Out front, the hungry paparazzi were present in full force hoping to perhaps get a slinky boob shot of a super model or an equally curvaceous thigh shot of some celebrity dame exiting her limo.
However, oblivious to all the glitz and glitter outside, Francine and her team were going through their final routines and sequences, Vince hopping around in the background like a pregnant parrot, emanating squeaks and squeals that the original feathered vocalist would have been proud of.
Champagne and hors d’oeuvres were flowing out front when Francine took a quick peak through the curtain. There, at the end of the catwalk, she could see the ‘vultures’ gathering. From her viewpoint,
Similar Books
