Read Online DESIGN FOR LOVE by Bryan Murray - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bryan Murray
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they all looked like elegant middle-aged men and women, pens poised to either make or break someone’s heart that very evening. She hoped against hope that it would not be hers.
Finally, the lights lowered, a fanfare played and suddenly the show was under way. The smooth-talking Compere warmed up the audience with some light-hearted banter, listed the Fashion Houses that would be on display and within seconds the first Model was on the catwalk to initial polite applause.
To Francine, just to hear the name ‘Classique’ being mentioned in the same breath as Verucci, McGarry, Derona and Iliac, together with other household names in the fashion world, already had her almost comatose with trepidation. The strings she had pulled with help from her father in the form of big favors called in, as well as excellent references from the people who trained her in college, had at least got her to the show. What she did from hereon in was up to her raw talent and a heck of a lot of good luck.
Vince as usual was a tower of strength at her side. He squeezed her arm to bring her back to reality. “Okay, Princess - this is it - two more fashion houses and its little old us!”
Francine blinked back into reality. “You’re right, Vince. So, from the top, let’s go over everything one last time!”
With that, Francine, Vince and the models went into a final huddle before the moment of truth arrived.
Out in the audience, a newly-shaved, elegant-looking Roger arrived, taking a seat, like the TV hound that he was, that would give him good exposure and light angles. Two older women, elegantly-dressed, amply endowed cleavages to go with it, were already eyeing the young newscaster hungrily. The latter’s built-in radar had also sensed their curiosity as he switched on his ‘this is the good-looking guy on the news’ smile especially for their benefit.
Closer to the stage and nearer to the beginning of the catwalk, Gerard, looking strikingly handsome as usual in a dark green silk dinner jacket accentuating those piercing eyes, was seated next to Jeri. The latter looked absolutely picture perfect in a deep purple sheath dress that looked like it had been painted on in all the right places, yet flaring beautifully in all the other right places. Together, they made a very striking couple.
As the refreshments and libations continued to flow freely, the very selective audience became more relaxed and appreciative of the cascade of quality fashions unfolding before them.
When it finally came to the heart-stopping moment when Francine’s creations made their debut, she heaved a sigh of relief as her upbeat music, pleasantly contrasting models and her use of vibrant colors, appeared to keep the upbeat tempo and polite applause still alive, even if the applause did seem a little less vociferous than that awarded to the bigger fashion houses.
Francine worked frenetically behind the scenes, tuned in to every sound from the audience, finally proving to herself that thus far, she was holding her own in world-class company.
In a brief moment of self-indulgence, she permitted herself a quick glance at the ‘vulture pit’, only to see the non-committal faces of all there, some of them making notes.
What would have gratified her more, however, would have been if she could have seen the slow, nodding look of appreciation spreading over the face of a certain member of the audience, a man in a dark green dinner jacket.
Next to Gerard, Jeri gave his arm a squeeze and she whispered in his ear. “What do you think now about Classique Fashions, Mr. Doubting Thomas?”
He smiled accommodatingly. “Hmm, not bad!”
“Only not bad?” she prodded his arm reproachfully
“Well, all right. Reasonably good, it’s, it’s just…” his voice trailed off.
“Just what?”
“Well, so far, darling, there’s nothing that jumps out at me, catches my attention.”
“My, aren’t we the picky one?”
He looked serious for a moment. “Look, darling
Finally, the lights lowered, a fanfare played and suddenly the show was under way. The smooth-talking Compere warmed up the audience with some light-hearted banter, listed the Fashion Houses that would be on display and within seconds the first Model was on the catwalk to initial polite applause.
To Francine, just to hear the name ‘Classique’ being mentioned in the same breath as Verucci, McGarry, Derona and Iliac, together with other household names in the fashion world, already had her almost comatose with trepidation. The strings she had pulled with help from her father in the form of big favors called in, as well as excellent references from the people who trained her in college, had at least got her to the show. What she did from hereon in was up to her raw talent and a heck of a lot of good luck.
Vince as usual was a tower of strength at her side. He squeezed her arm to bring her back to reality. “Okay, Princess - this is it - two more fashion houses and its little old us!”
Francine blinked back into reality. “You’re right, Vince. So, from the top, let’s go over everything one last time!”
With that, Francine, Vince and the models went into a final huddle before the moment of truth arrived.
Out in the audience, a newly-shaved, elegant-looking Roger arrived, taking a seat, like the TV hound that he was, that would give him good exposure and light angles. Two older women, elegantly-dressed, amply endowed cleavages to go with it, were already eyeing the young newscaster hungrily. The latter’s built-in radar had also sensed their curiosity as he switched on his ‘this is the good-looking guy on the news’ smile especially for their benefit.
Closer to the stage and nearer to the beginning of the catwalk, Gerard, looking strikingly handsome as usual in a dark green silk dinner jacket accentuating those piercing eyes, was seated next to Jeri. The latter looked absolutely picture perfect in a deep purple sheath dress that looked like it had been painted on in all the right places, yet flaring beautifully in all the other right places. Together, they made a very striking couple.
As the refreshments and libations continued to flow freely, the very selective audience became more relaxed and appreciative of the cascade of quality fashions unfolding before them.
When it finally came to the heart-stopping moment when Francine’s creations made their debut, she heaved a sigh of relief as her upbeat music, pleasantly contrasting models and her use of vibrant colors, appeared to keep the upbeat tempo and polite applause still alive, even if the applause did seem a little less vociferous than that awarded to the bigger fashion houses.
Francine worked frenetically behind the scenes, tuned in to every sound from the audience, finally proving to herself that thus far, she was holding her own in world-class company.
In a brief moment of self-indulgence, she permitted herself a quick glance at the ‘vulture pit’, only to see the non-committal faces of all there, some of them making notes.
What would have gratified her more, however, would have been if she could have seen the slow, nodding look of appreciation spreading over the face of a certain member of the audience, a man in a dark green dinner jacket.
Next to Gerard, Jeri gave his arm a squeeze and she whispered in his ear. “What do you think now about Classique Fashions, Mr. Doubting Thomas?”
He smiled accommodatingly. “Hmm, not bad!”
“Only not bad?” she prodded his arm reproachfully
“Well, all right. Reasonably good, it’s, it’s just…” his voice trailed off.
“Just what?”
“Well, so far, darling, there’s nothing that jumps out at me, catches my attention.”
“My, aren’t we the picky one?”
He looked serious for a moment. “Look, darling
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