by Denise Irwin
Annette ducked her head in, “Daniella, Michal is on the phone. He’d like to speak with you.”
Yeah, I bet he does. “Annette, can you please tell him I’ll call him back?”
“Oui mademoiselle, je vais lui dire.”
“Merci, Annette.”
The model who had spoken looked to Daniella, “I feel comfortable and confident; however, I believe we need to check with everyone.”
Daniella asked her staff along with the models, what they thought. One of the older models raised her hand, “Mademoiselle McPherson, I think walking once more would be best.”
Daniella smiled at her. “It certainly can’t hurt. Let’s take a lunch break. It’s now noon, so why don’t we agree to be back in the shop by 2:00 at the latest.”
Daniella felt she needed some alone time, so she walked two miles to a small café, she referred to as her ‘thinking tank’. She ordered a salad and a glass of wine. She asked herself if she should return Michal’s telephone call today or wait until she was home that evening. Daniella also asked herself if she should drive to his house this evening. It was his choice as to how he chose to conduct his affairs; but, it was also her choice to choose how she conducted her own.
She sat in the café as she rehearsed a number of things she would say when she spoke to him. Michal had a right to know how she felt about another woman’s perfume on his pillowcase. Just as soon as she had that thought, she had to ask herself how she felt. Was she jealous? Had she expected more from him than he was obviously not willing to give her? Maybe she had expected too much of the relationship.
Daniella’s Irish willpower kicked in. Regardless of the outcome, she would never tell Michal he’d bruised her heart. She’d call him when she returned to her shop. She’d figure out what to say when she called him.
Her confidence grew in leaps and bounds with each step she took to return to her office. He wasn’t going to turn her into a whiney little fat girl. She didn’t give a rat’s ass what he thought, because she was a strong-willed Irish woman, and by the time she reached her shop, she was ready for whatever he said.
When she entered the shop, Annette stopped her. “Daniella, Michal called twice while you were out. He insisted that I ask you to please return his call.”
“Thank you, Annette.”
Daniella went into her office and closed the door to make the call. His secretary answered the call, “Bureau de Michal Bagot. Puis-je t'aider ?”
“Yes thank you, may I speak with Monsieur Bagot?”
“May I tell him whose calling?”
The hair on the back of Daniella’s neck rose. She had called Michal’s office on a number of occasions, enough that his secretary knew her voice. “Of course you may. My name is Daniella McPherson.”
“Mademoiselle, McPherson, can you please hold the telephone for one moment while I check to see if he’s available?”
Daniella’s Irish temper took over the situation, “Thank you, but I’m receiving another call. Please let Monsieur Bagot know that I returned his call.” That said; Daniella disconnected the call.
The models walked the fake runway once more. Daniella told them that they’d all done well. She went on to say, “The show starts at 2:00 tomorrow afternoon. Please be there by 12:30 so that we can do one final check before you walk. I do not have the lineup for the designers, so we could be first or last. I’ll know more tomorrow.”
Daniella stopped in a small store to pick up a few groceries on the way to her apartment. She’d have to deal with Michal at some point, but the night before the show wasn’t the right time. Between the perfume and the tone of his secretary’s voice, Daniella had no desire to see or speak with him this evening. If he called her apartment, she would tell him she was preparing mentally for tomorrow and needed the quiet her apartment afforded her. Daniella let go of the anger as it turned into disappointment. She knew Grant was right. Daniella had no hold on Michal. She had fabricated something in her mind that didn’t exist. When she spoke with him, she would tell him that he absolutely had the right to sleep with any woman he chose. She just couldn’t be one of the mares in his stable any longer.
When she parked her car, she told herself that after the show and reception tomorrow, she would gracefully bow out of this relationship. If Michal felt the need to conquer women, so be it. It just wasn’t her way of maintaining a relationship. Daniella was comfortable with her decision, so she grabbed her grocery bag and walked around the block to her apartment.
She was fumbling with her keys before climbing the stairs to the apartment house door when she heard Michal, “Daniella, have I done something to offend you?”
Finding Michal sitting on the bottom step of her apartment house rendered Daniella speechless. She stood in front of him looking like a cartoon stick figure. Michal stood to face her. He took the bag of groceries from her.
Clearly waiting for her to speak; Daniella finally stammered out, “Michal, what are you doing here?” Her knees were wobbly. He was the last person she expected to find sitting on her doorstep.
“Daniella, rather than stand here on the sidewalk, would you please invite me in where we may speak in private?”
The last thing she needed the night before the show was conflict in her life. She would tell him no; it was that easy. She’d tell him they would speak after the show. Daniella reached for her grocery bag and told him, “Yes, please come into my apartment where we can speak in private.”
Michal followed Daniella up the three flights of stairs and waited patiently while she unlocked the door.
“Daniella, where is your corkscrew gadget to remove the cork in this bottle of wine?”
She pulled the corkscrew from the kitchen drawer. Daniella then took two wine glasses from her cupboard and put them on the counter. Her wine glasses didn’t match and they were cheap glasses she’d picked up at various wine festivals in Paris. Michal’s wine glasses were crystal. He’d just have to adjust to cheap glasses or leave, and at this point she didn’t care which he chose to do.
He poured the wine as he asked her, “Clearly I have done something that has offended you. Mon amour, veuillez tell me what I did.”
Daniella was close to spitting the wine out of her mouth when he referred to her as his love. “What makes you think that you offended me?”
Michal took the wine glass from her. He moved toward her to give her a kiss. Daniella stepped back away from him. “I see that you have been offended by that step away from me that you just took.”
“Michal, can this conversation wait until after the show? I’m putting my reputation on the line tomorrow. I need a quiet evening to prepare.”
“No it cannot. Tell me how I offended you, and I will leave if you wish me to.”
Daniella couldn’t play cat and mouse all night, so she told him, “I believe that I misunderstood our relationship.”
He shrugged one shoulder, “What do you believe you misunderstood?”
“The problem stems from the fact that I believed we had an exclusive relationship. I realize that we do not. Neither of us has professed that thought to the other. We are not married or engaged which means we are free to see whomever we desire.”
“Daniella, something had to have happened to spawn that revelation in your head. What was it? I arrived home late last night to find a lovely dinner wasted in the pan. The table was set as if it were for a romantic dinner. Why did you go to the trouble of making what appeared to have been a wonderful dinner only to leave?”
A little of Daniella’s confidence returned, “What makes you so sure that I cooked that dinner?”
“Mon amour, you are the only woman who has my house keys in her possession. Did my having lunch with another designer make you angry? It was a business lunch, nothing more. There are times when I must do a little flirting to get stories for the magazine. Please believe me when I tell you that Samanta Laroque means nothing to me other than professionally.”
Daniella’s Irish temper was in full ge
ar as she sweetly asked Michal, “Does that professional relationship include having her in your bed?”
Judging by the look on his face, Daniella knew she just hit a raw spot.
“Why would you think Samanta Laroque was in my bed?”
“Michal, are you really as stupid as you are acting at this moment. When I met her in the café yesterday, she reeked of expensive perfume. That same perfume was on your bed pillow. There is no reason for you to try to explain what happened, so don’t even try to.”
“Daniella, do you wish me to leave?”
“I think I do. Before you leave, I’d like to say that I am the one who should have known better. You never once indicated that we were involved in a monogamous relationship. I took it upon myself to make that assumption. You are absolutely free to date or sleep with whomever you choose.”
“In that case, I will take my leave. I wish you would change your mind; however, it seems you have already made your decision. I will of course, be at the show tomorrow, but I will not attempt to speak with you.”
“Thank you.”
When Michal left, Daniella held a pity party where she was the only guest.
After a fretful night, Daniella rose early and went to the shop. Grant entered her office shortly after her arrival.
“Daniella, are you alright?”
She smiled brightly at him, “Grant, let me tell you, I am more than alright. Shall we go out for breakfast?”
Grant knew in his heart she was definitely not alright, but they had a show to prepare for. so he agreed to breakfast if that would make her happy.
They walked to the small café around the corner from Daniella’s shop. Daniella ordered a large French country breakfast with coffee while Grant chose a scone and coffee.
It was not like Grant to pry to another person’s affairs, but he was worried about her. “Daniella, are you sure that you are fine?”
She laughed, “Why do you ask?”
“Mon ami, you do not seem to be yourself this morning.”
“Well, Mon ami, I listened to what you said yesterday. Michal is a big boy and he certainly may choose who he wishes to associate with.”
“Daniella, it seems to me that he has chosen to associate himself with you.”
“I think that’s a true statement; however, when I could smell Samanta Laroque’s perfume on his pillow, I chose to release him from any obligation in what I had erroneously assumed was a relationship with me.”
Grant had an appalled look on his face when he responded to her statement. “Daniella, certainement, vous avez tort. Michal qui feraient jamais de vous.”
“Grant, I have no idea what you just said, but if the appalled look on your face is an indication, you just told me that Michal wouldn’t do that. Well Michal did.”
“What will you do?”
“What will I do? I will do nothing. Michal may see or bed whomever he wishes. I’m the one who wants something more. I will find a new man to love.”
“Will Michal be at today’s show?”
“I’m quite sure that he will.”
“What will you do when you see him? What will you say if he speaks to you?”
“Grant I have no intention of letting my Irish temper rear its head at a fashion show. I am a professional designer, so I intend to act like one. If Michal speaks, I promise you I will be eloquent in my demeanor. I am angry with Michal on a personal matter not a professional one. I’m sure the order of designers is ready, so let’s go see what position we’re in.”
The arena was nearly full when Daniella and Grant entered it. She winked at Grant as they walked to the dressing area. “The arena is already filling. This is wonderful.”
It was Grant’s turn to be nervous. “I hope that it is wonderful.”
One of the organizers approached Daniella, “Bonjour Daniella. Here is the list. There are six design houses presenting today. Your house presents in the sixth position.”
Daniella took the program as she thanked the organizer, “Merci.” She then went over the list with Grant. “I think the last position will suit us well. What do you think?”
Grant knew the arena would clear out once the top designers showed their designs, but he couldn’t bear the thought of breaking Daniella’s heart by telling her that. “Oui Daniella that might do us very well going last.”
“That’s what I thought. Going last will leave an impression on the judges. Let’s go check on our models and Charlene.”
When they entered the dressing room, to the average person it would appear chaotic; however, to Daniella, it was exhilarating. As she looked around the room, her excitement grew. The first designers to walk the runway were performing final checks on their models. Makeup artists dusted the models’ faces to cut down the glare of a camera. Hairdressers armed with hair spray cans made sure that each curl would stay in place. Daniella inhaled the view. Meeting the stringent requirements for the Paris Spring Fashion Show was something she had dreamed of since she was a child.
She and Grant made their way to her assigned dressing area. Since her designs were last, Charlene hadn’t started dressing Daniella’s models. Several models walked in the small area practicing for the runway. Daniella was pleased, very pleased.
She was pleased until Charlene approached her, “Daniella, one of the models is intoxicated.”
“What?”
Charlene pointed to the intoxicated model.
“How intoxicated is she?”
“Enough so that I would not put her on the runway. She is modeling the business suit which is your first design to show.”
Grant was standing next to Daniella. “Grant, go assess the situation. If she’s been drinking, ask her to leave. Do not offer her the agreed pay. We’ll put in the second choice.”
Daniella was not about to let her disappointment with the model ruin her afternoon. This was one of the reasons she retained the services of two models per outfit. She watched Grant as he spoke to the model.
Grant looked at the model. “Madame avez-vous eu une boisson alcoolisée aujourd'hui ?”
She looked at the floor, “Oui Monsieur, que j'ai. J'étais nerveux. J'ai bien régler mon sert un verre de vin.”
Grant lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes, “Combien de verres de vin que vous buviez ?”
Tears fell from her brown eyes, “J'ai eu trois verres de vin.”
“Je dois demander que vous laissez.”
Grant walked her to the door, and then returned to speak with Daniella.
“I watched you walk her out the door, so I assume she’d been drinking?”
“Yes, she confessed that she was so nervous that she drank three glasses of wine.”
“What a shame, she was one of our best walkers. Oh well, it is, what it is. I’m going to go out front. The first three designers are ready. Keep an eye out that we’re ready on time.”
Grant winked at her, “We’ll be ready on time.”
“Grant, did you just wink at me?”
“J'ai fait Mademoiselle, it was a good luck wink.”
When she walked away, she shook her head. Daniella purposefully walked along the runway on the opposite side of her reserved seats. She wanted to see if Michal was sitting there. Daniella casually snuck a peak across the runway. What she saw made her blood boil. Samanta Laroque was sitting in her seat beside Michal. She walked past where they were sitting and joined the photographers at the end of the runway.
The House of Elisabeth walked down the runway first. Daniella admired the designs and applauded them along with the audience.
The House of Geneviève walked second. There was a small pit growing in Daniella’s stomach as she watched the exquisite designs walk the runway. She was beginning to doubt her own designs. Once again, the audience showed their appreciation of the work by applauding.
The third was The House of Marguerite, whose designs were remarkable. The audience jumped from their chairs to applaud. Daniella looked to where Michal was sitting to find
that he too stood to applause the designs. The pit in her stomach grew to the size of a grapefruit.
The announcer called for a short recess before resuming with the last three designers. Daniella used that recess to check on her team.
She was not at all surprised to see that Grant and Charlene had everything under control. The makeup artists and the hairdressers were working their miracles transforming her models into beautiful women. When Grant saw her, he walked to Daniella, “Daniella, how is it going out there?”
“Grant, I’ve got to say, we’re up against some stiff competition.”
“Do not worry yourself about the first three showings. They are the top design houses in all of France. They have retained well-known models. They have been in business for many years, so they have earned the right to show first.”
“Is that why we’re going last?”
“I would say yes to you.”
Daniella felt a little better learning that the design houses earned the right to go first. She would work harder to move further up the line.
She smiled at Grant, “Then it will be our goal to be fifth next year.”
He laughed, “No, we will make our goal to be fourth next year.”
“It’s fourth then.”
Grant wanted to ask if Michal were in the audience, but that might upset Daniella, so he refrained.
“Grant since you and Charlene have everything under control, I’m going out and stand by the photographers where I can watch.”
When Daniella walked away, Grant knew Michal was there and it was likely he was there with Samanta Laroque. He shook his head and thought what a shame it was that he had brought another woman to the show.
Daniella walked across from her assigned seats to catch a glance at Michal and his new woman. Their seats were empty, so Daniella pushed her way through the crowd returning to their seats for the next three designers. She visibly jumped when someone took her arm. Daniella turned to find Michal holding her arm. She pulled away from him.
“Daniella I just wanted to wish you well today.”