As Neil adjusted the lights, a beam shot over and struck the sparkling periwinkle-blue satin. Kate caught her breath. The fabric was prettier than she remembered. If she could strike a pose for hours, she would volunteer to take Marge’s place so she could wear this fabulous gown. Every woman who saw it would want it.
Kate gently unfolded the dress and lifted it off the table. As she held it up, she shook it a little to perk up the skirt.
Roy whistled.
Neil mouthed, “Wow.”
Mr. G gaped. “Where are you finding these dresses? If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were Cinderella herself.”
“Or a fairy godmother,” teased Roy. “Hey, are these real diamonds?” He reached out to touch the sparkling trim. “Yowzah!” He jerked back his hand. “Static shock. You should probably steam that thing before it hurts someone.”
“It’s um, borrowed,” she said. “A family heirloom, so we need to be extra careful.”
“A family heirloom from whom? The Queen of England?” asked Roy.
She grinned. The dress had the intended effect on the men, too.
Mr. G didn’t give his slow nod this time. “I don’t know,” he said. “The rag dress was perfect because who would ask for a rag dress? But this? The women will be all over this. It’s better than this New Look everyone’s talking about. Do you know who the designer is? Can we get more of these by next week?”
“Naw, that’s a one-of-a-kind, that one,” said Roy. “It’s an Oscar dress. Katharine Hepburn…she’d be a stunner in that frock.”
Mr. G looked at the three manikins decked out in the other formal gowns taken from Women’s Wear. By the look on his face, Kate could tell he thought the same as she did. Even with the accessories already pinned on, the other dresses paled in comparison to the one wrinkled dress she held.
“All right. I’ve got no choice. Look at these, then look at that. If we want a show-stopper window, we’ve got to have that froufrou.” He waved his hands in the air. “Get it steamed and put it on Marge.” He walked away. “And if Miss Lassiter asks where we got the dress, I’ll tell her to tell the customers we had a visit from our own fairy godmother during the night. The dress is on loan from a prestigious private family collection. It is not for sale.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Josie stared at her. “Like I always say, you have a charmed life.”
“Charmed? Are you listening to me?” The girls were sitting on Kate’s bed, sorting through Josie’s scrapbooks looking for some spare space for her latest crushes and her inspirations.
“I said yes because I thought it was a date, and then he tells me to bring you, too, and walks off arm in arm with Fran.” Kate fell face forward onto her pillow. “I tried to back out, but he didn’t hear me.”
“Well, you’ll have to steal his attention away from her. That’s all there is to it.”
“Mrp,” Kate said into the pillow.
“I wish Ryan from English class would ask me on a date/not date.” Josie pulled her up. “Come on. Let’s go to my room. We’ll have to find some dresses to wear. I know you don’t have anything appropriate.”
Kate swatted Josie’s arm. “Thanks a lot.”
“I’m just saying, for being your mother’s daughter, the fashion gene skipped you.” She pushed Kate through the apartment. “Besides, I’ve been working on some dresses for prom. A few of the girls from the old school wanted me to sew theirs for them. I’m sure if I give them a discount, they won’t mind if we wear them first—as long as there’s no boys from our class to see them.”
…
By the time Johnny arrived to pick up the girls, they were ready. They had started getting ready the night before with hair-setting lotion and pin curls. The morning was spent painting fingernails. The afternoon on hair and makeup. Josie brought along her February edition of Seventeen magazine and was trying to make Kate up like the model in the ad for a Judy Kent blouse. Seventeen was Josie’s favorite magazine since it carried an article about her school in it, and she was in the picture with the millinery students. You could see her if you used a magnifying glass.
At the last moment, they carefully slipped into Josie’s stylish party dresses. A pale-green crepe for Kate and a sun-yellow chiffon for Josie. They were both high-waisted with gored skirts. Kate’s featured a rippled peplum joined to the waistline seam, Josie’s a sheer shrug over her shoulders.
When Johnny knocked on the door, Mom answered it while the girls hustled into Kate’s bedroom. Josie thought Kate should make a grand entrance.
“Girls, Johnny’s here.”
Josie blocked the bedroom door for a count of one hundred. “Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred.” She flung open the door and pushed Kate through.
Kate didn’t expect to be catapulted through the door, and instead of walking out gracefully, stumbled in her heels. She was going to kill Josie and her enthusiasm.
Johnny whistled. “You girls look like you’re ready for some dancing. And I know just the place.” He looked at Mom. “You sure you don’t want to join us? I’ve got room in the car. The Phoenix is the place to be tonight.”
“That’s sweet of you, Johnny.” She glanced Kate’s way, took note of Kate’s wide-open eyes and subtle shake of the head. “But you kids go on.”
Kate grabbed her mother’s shawl for the return home, and as soon as Johnny stepped out the door, Josie yanked it from her hand and threw it on the sofa. “If it’s cool on the way home, he’ll offer you his jacket,” she hissed. “You really don’t know how to do this, do you?”
“Have fun on your date,” Mom called as she shut the door.
Kate closed her eyes. It’s not a date. She glanced at Johnny to see if he heard. He did. He was grinning to beat the band. Maybe it is a date?
…
Thankfully, Fran was not waiting in the car. She was sitting with Birdy and some other girls at a round table to the right of the stage, sipping Shirley Temples. She eyed Kate’s outfit, and apparently found nothing to snub. Score one for Design by Josie. But Kate’s stomach fell flat when Fran’s gaze lingered on Johnny’s face. Oblivious to the attention, he waved at someone across the room.
Kate couldn’t believe she was this close to Benny Goodman. He was right there on the stage, leading his jazz band with his clarinet. And the new ballroom was breathtaking. Gigantic crystal chandeliers hung over the shiny new hardwood floors. The walls were lined with intricate archways that framed huge bouquets of red, yellow, and white flowers on Roman columns. Even the trim along the ceiling was carved in intricate designs.
White tablecloths with burgundy runners draped the tables, topped with crystal vases filled with more of the same red, yellow, and white flowers. But it was the objects circling the vases that caught Kate’s attention. She glanced up at Johnny to see him watching her expression.
“Snow globes?”
“Aren’t they perfect? Everyone loves a snow globe. I told Dad it would make a bang-up marketing plan. At the end of the night, we all go home with souvenirs and tell everyone about the grand time that was had at the new Phoenix.” He picked one up and gave it a shake before handing it to her. The snow swirled around a model phoenix. “Dad loved the plan and let me come up with the design. I told him some girl in Windows gave me the idea.” He put his arm around her. “Stick with me, Sparky. We make a great team.”
Kate beamed as she gave the globe another shake. The same fiery colors of the new ballroom contrasted perfectly with the white snow. She did have good ideas, even if this one was mostly Johnny’s.
As soon as Johnny introduced Kate and Josie and they all sat down, the boys from the next table were over in a shot, and introductions were made all around. Before the waiter could stop by with more Shirley Temples, everyone had partnered up and gone out on the dance floor.
Fran had looked expectantly at Johnny, but a quick-witted boy from the other table intercepted—“Can I borrow your frame?!”—leaving Johnny and Kate alone.
; “Shall we?” asked Johnny.
The band, dressed so elegantly in tuxedos, was tops. As soon as Johnny and Kate made it to the floor, they started playing a waltz. She placed her hand in Johnny’s, and he circled her waist with his other hand. He pulled her in close, and she noticed he was wearing cologne. A leather-citrus kind of scent. Josie would probably know what it was. She breathed it in, trying to cement this moment in her memory. The next dance he could be off with Fran, if that girl had her way, and Kate would never see him again until he had to take her home.
“Mm, you smell good,” she blurted out. Her cheeks burned, and she tilted her forehead into his blazer to hide her face. His chest rose and fell as he laughed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
He let go of her waist and tilted her chin up. “I’m glad you did. I like knowing what you’re thinking.”
They danced for two more songs, the last one a fast jitterbug in which Kate held her own this time. Hot and thirsty, she returned to the table with him for drinks. Birdy was already there with another couple. Johnny pulled his chair close to Kate’s, and they talked and talked, only vaguely aware of the others coming and going from the table. Josie zipped in for a quick sip of a drink and a wink at Kate before she was off dancing with another fella. Fran tried to join their conversation several times before seeming to lose interest and wandering off.
“Let’s step out for some air,” said Johnny. “You can tell me about your Cinderella windows.”
When they walked out onto the street, the air was cool, and Kate automatically crossed her arms to take off the chill.
“Here, you can have my jacket,” said Johnny. He wrapped his blazer around her shoulders.
Kate tried not to giggle. Josie was so right. She hugged Johnny’s jacket, enjoying his warm and spicy scent.
The crowd around the window had thinned out, but was still surprisingly full given the time of night. He led her away from the crowd, into the shelter of the doorway to Harmon-Craig. “I meant what I said up there,” said Johnny. “You’ve got good ideas. You’d make a great marketer. Despite your quiet and shy act, I’ve been right all along about you, Sparky.”
Kate laughed as she let Johnny pull her in close. “As I recall, you first thought I was trying to cozy up to you for an acting role.”
“Nah. I was acting myself. I knew down deep there was something special between us. But with the war and all, there wasn’t any point in pursuing it.” He circled his arms around Kate’s waist and pulled her in even closer. “But now that the war is over…” He glanced at her mouth, then back to her eyes.
Kate’s stomach flipped. He was getting ready to kiss her! She closed her eyes and tilted her face upward.
At that moment, a car screeched down the street, horn honking.
As if acting on instinct, Johnny spun her around and stood in front of her. Kate blinked her eyes open. What was happening? Where was her kiss?
The out-of-control car drew everyone’s attention. Swerving violently, it crashed into a pole. The small crowd let out a collective gasp and all turned away from the Harmon-Craig window to watch.
“I’ll be right back,” said Johnny. “I’ve had some first aid training.” He took off running.
Several others joined to see if they could help, and the remaining handful of people walked cautiously toward the wreck. There was only the driver, and he got out of the car, seemingly uninjured. He stood with the men, examining the damage.
Kate watched for a moment before allowing her gaze to focus back on the dress. She wandered over to the empty space the crowd had left behind. She sighed contentedly. Tonight had been amazing. How could her life get any better?
Suddenly, a movement in the window caught her eye. A large, dark shape was making its way through the display. She gasped as prickles tickled her arm. She stepped closer to the window, on full alert. Mr. G wasn’t that big. Who was in there?
The shadow stepped in the path of a spotlight. A man dressed all in black was reaching out to the Cinderella dress!
“No!” Kate screamed. She banged on the glass.
The man glanced up and seeing her, smiled. It was the stranger who had been watching the store. Without further hesitation, he pulled at the dress. Then he jerked back like he’d been shocked, the way Roy had when he touched the dress. The man pulled again, this time so hard and strong he knocked off one of Marge-Cinderella’s arms.
The dress immediately burst into flames.
Kate’s eyes widened. Fire! Her throat closed in on her. This couldn’t be happening. The dress would be ruined. What had she done? The magic, the heritage, all those years of being protected, and now it was on fire.
The man batted at the flames with his gloved hands, but the more he touched the dress, the more the flames shot up. He winced at the burning fire.
Kate pounded on the window with both hands. She pointed to the display door where she knew a fire extinguisher was discreetly hidden. Roy had had a few mishaps when setting up his lights, so they kept one handy.
The man ignored her.
He watched the dress burn until it was nothing but ashes. The fire illuminated his expression in flickering waves. He went from disbelief to rage. The dress burned completely, the ashes falling around Marge-Cinderella’s feet. Nothing else in the display was touched. No burn marks. No scorching. No smoke.
Kate let her hand slide off the glass. She was going to be sick. Disbelief and dread gnawed at her stomach. This can’t be happening. She was on a date. The dress was surrounded by witnesses and security. It was supposed to be safe.
The man inside the window crouched down and felt the ashes. Looking up, he met Kate’s own disbelieving face. His eyes narrowed, and he made a motion toward her like he would have grabbed for her neck if the window hadn’t been in his way. Kate took two steps back, ever so glad there was a window separating them.
The man lunged for the exit door. The window went dark. On his way out, he must have tripped and pulled the lights.
Kate didn’t wait to find out. She ran to get Johnny.
…
It took a while to find Mr. Day. Meeting him for the first time had Kate tongue-tied. Johnny had to explain what happened. Mr. Day led them through the wood-paneled executive offices and into a separate elevator. He had a security guard join them.
Keeping an eye out for intruders, they went straight to the window. The display door was left hanging open.
Johnny went in and tried to get the lights up and running. He came out, arms outstretched and palms up. “I tried everything I know.”
The security guard offered Mr. Day his flashlight. Mr. Day turned it on and went into the display.
“Quite a night,” said Johnny. “First that car accident and now this. At least the driver was okay. Somehow lost control of his car, but he’s only scratched up a little.”
Mr. Day came out of the window frowning. “It could have been worse,” he said. “The one dress is the only one harmed.” He directed his attention to the security guard. “Find out how he got in and be sure to make a police report.”
Mr. Day spoke to Kate. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’ll get Mr. G down here tonight to fix things before store opening.”
Fix things? There was no fixing this. Centuries of successful guardianship and poof! It was all over. The line of Keepers ended when it got to Kate Allen, New York City.
Chapter Thirty-two
Kate woke the next morning feeling as if she’d been in a car accident herself. Her eyes were burning from lack of sleep, and a cloud of dread hovered over every move she made. She found it difficult to think, as though her brain had been dipped in thick vanilla pudding. How was she going to tell Adalbert? She certainly was not going to tell Elsie. Losing the dress would put her over the edge for sure.
The answer was lying innocently on Mom’s silly welcome mat outside their door. The New York Times with the latest Cinderella window at Harmon-Craig printed smack-dab on the front page
. She wouldn’t have to tell Elsie anything. She’d see it all when Adalbert settled into his recliner to read the paper.
The headline read Opening Night Fire at Harmon-Craig Ballroom.
Kate scooped up the paper and glanced down the hall, half expecting Elsie to be storming through the elevator doors with renewed vigor.
The photograph was one taken earlier yesterday, showing their best crowd yet. Five rows deep and edging the sidewalk. The Times had only started a Fashion section last year, and here was their window pushed to the front page of the whole paper! If she lived through this day, she’d cut out the picture for her own scrapbook.
Below the large picture was a smaller photo of the New Look protesters out front. Seems the movement against the return to long skirts and underpinnings was gaining strength. These girls were out in their underclothes showing off their curves and carrying signs that read, Do we need padding?
Mr. G wouldn’t be happy about those girls stealing the attention away from his window. And what would the French think of these American women complaining about the new French fashion?
The small blurb read:
Around midnight last night, Cinderella’s dress disappeared, just like in the fairy tale. Witnesses say a man broke into the window and set fire to the popular dress. One unidentified woman said the man was deranged, fanning the flames as he watched the dress burn. Owner Wallace Day was upstairs at the grand opening of his new ballroom, the Phoenix, at the time of the incident. Police are investigating.
Kate flipped to the Fashion section for the continuation:
Word is out that Mr. Garfinkle, chief window designer at Harmon-Craig, and Gene Moore, of the same position at Bonwit Teller, are in an all-out battle for the best window. After Harmon-Craig unveiled its third week of the popular Cinderella window line, word spread fast. Crowds have lined up to catch a glimpse of the soon-to-be princess as she meets her prince in the most stunning gown high society has seen since before the war. “I’ve got to know who the designer is,” said Mrs. Macintosh. “With another Red Cross fundraiser on the horizon, I’m looking for a dress exactly like that one.” Now that the dress is gone, one can only wonder how Mr. Garfinkle will recover from this disaster.
Cinderella's Dress Page 19