DESIGN FOR LOVE

by Murray, Bryan

She reached out and touched his bare shoulder. “Look, it’s been great, Gerard. I had a really nice time, but I think we’d better be getting back. I’ve still got things to do before the show.”

  He jumped to his feet, still the perfect gentleman. “Of course, I understand.” he quickly packed the towels in the beach bag and escorted her back to the dinghy. He helped her on board and started to row back to the yacht.

  Francine was mortified. One part of her was telling her she was crazy for rushing away and the other part was telling her that it was a smart move.

  Across from her, those green eyes were almost reading her mind, “Look, Francine, I had a wonderful time,” he began. “Perhaps we got a little carried away, but forget it, we’re still friends and at least for a couple of hours you were able to relax.”

  She looked at him, her brown eyes as sincere as he had ever seen them. “I had a wonderful time too, Gerard, it’s just that I guess we got past the flirting stage just a little too fast,” she added smilingly. “But believe me when I tell you this.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “You are one great kisser!”

  He grinned. “It takes two, Francine!”

  She smiled affectionately as they bumped against the side of the yacht and the crew members helped them on board.

  CHAPTER 32

  After a disturbed night’s sleep, during which Francine drifted in and out of dreams of Gerard, all somehow ending with that spine-tingling kiss, she finally awoke to face the day, the biggest day of her life, feeling less than fired up for the events that lay ahead.

  As she headed down to breakfast, Vince was there to meet her with enough nervous energy for the two of them. “Ready to go, Princess?” he chirped.

  She smiled ruefully. “Well, not as ready as you are by the looks of it, but I guess I’m going to make it. What’s the latest?”

  He smiled enthusiastically. “A couple of Princes and Princesses are definitely coming, so brace yourself!”

  Her stomach did a backflip. “Great!” she added, but somehow she didn’t sound that confident.

  “Relax, boss,” Vince reassured her. “We’ve got it made, the girls are all ready and all we’ve got to do is perform!”

  She patted his arm. “Don’t ever change, Rainbow Man!”

  He grinned. “Me? Never!”

  Following a hectic day of making final preparations, checking and re-checking lists, a day when visions of Gerard were never far from her mind, the sun finally started to set over a silver/gold Mediterranean as the early arrivals started to make their way to the beautifully floodlit Fashion Center.

  Unlike New York, the Europeans seemed to have so much more flair in the way they not only publicized but presented such a special event. At one quick glance through the curtains at the gathering throng, Francine could have sworn she actually saw women wearing tiaras, as well as most of them dripping in other diamonds.

  Vince had been right, when Royalty showed up, all the mere mortals made an extra effort at looking elegant and for this to happen to a group of people who were already upper class chic, the final results were quite staggering.

  Champagne was flowing freely as well as caviar and just about five minutes before the scheduled start to the Show, sudden applause out front accompanied by flash bulbs popping off non-stop, signaled the arrival of the Royal Guests. With the Princes in white tuxedos and the Princesses in a mixture of Yves St. Laurent creations, they all looked every inch their regal best.

  Backstage, Francine’s heart rate was soaring as Vince strutted up and down like a caged tiger, or probably more like a flamingo with leg cramps, judging by his shocking pink ensemble.

  As in New York, the big fashion houses, particularly the European ones, were dominating the backstage scene with models, make-up people and hair stylists. Once again, the usual miserable- faced chain-smoking dressers were hovering in the background.

  The diminutive Compere was in fine voice as she started the proceedings and TV cameras started to roll. Like the seasoned veteran that she was, she quickly introduced the Royal guests and their entourage before giving a quick rundown of the fashion houses represented.

  Francine had to pinch herself when ‘Classique’ was mentioned after which she settled down to await her turn, the entire fashion world ready to pounce just the other side of one flimsy curtain.

  After what seemed an eternity, ‘Classique’ got to do their thing and in a maelstrom of activity, half-naked women rushing in and out of clothes, each item in the line made its debut to extremely encouraging polite applause from the gathered audience.

  Seated near to the back, Yvette and Carl were holding hands nervously, almost bursting with pride as their daughter’s creations made it smoothly down the catwalk. Yvette’s eyes were riveted on the polite applause from the Royal Box and she gave Carl a quick dig in the ribs guiding his attention in the same direction. He nodded his head as if to say. ‘I knew she could do it!’

  Finally, the moment came for Karen to make her big entrance in the red dress. Backstage, Francine and Vince had gone over her like a couple of cadaver inspectors, making sure every little seam, stitch and fold was in perfect position. In the background, the Compere was already building up to the introduction for the big finale. She had already spoken in French, the first spoken language of each introduction, before starting on the English version as Karen stood behind the curtain ready to do her thing. She looked absolutely stunning as she turned, winked at Francine and gave her the thumbs up sign.

  “And now, your Royal Highnesses, Ladies and Gentlemen, to the final creation of ‘Classique’ Fashions…”

  In the audience, Gerard, who now had the lovely Jeri back on his arm, waited with interest to see what the big finale would look like.

  Jeri squeezed his arm and whispered. “Seen anything of interest yet?”

  He nodded negatively as the Compere continued. “Here we have Karen in a stunning red evening dress, perfect for that special evening with Mr. Wonderful!”

  As Karen moved flamboyantly onto the catwalk, at first there were sighs and then screams of excitement followed by tumultuous applause. Backstage, both Francine and Vince who had been holding hands tightly, eyes closed, suddenly opened their eyes and grinned at each other as the applause continued.

  “Bingo!” was all that Vince could manage. Francine had already taken a peep through the curtain at the Royal Box where one Princess was already on her feet applauding enthusiastically, quickly followed by her entourage.

  “Wow!” Francine gulped, her heart going a mile a minute.

  Out in the audience, Gerard took one look at the dress and slapped his thigh enthusiastically. “That’s the one! Way to go, Francine!”

  Even as he spoke, an Usher with a cordless phone approached him and whispered in his ear. Gerard took the phone and whispered into it. “This is Gerard Cinclare?”

  A voice with an American accent came on the line. “Mr.Cinclare, this is Doctor James at the Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas. I’m so glad I got through!”

  Gerard’s face went suddenly very white as he continued to listen. Jeri, sensing that something was wrong, squeezed his arm. “Everything okay?” she asked.

  He nodded negatively. “It’s Mother, we’ve got to leave!” was all he said as both he and Jeri made a tactful exit, handing the phone back to the liveried usher.

  Backstage, Karen had just returned from her final appearance and she, Francine and Vince were hugging each other excitedly as the models milled around enthusiastically.

  Karen was the first to speak. “It was a knockout, Francine,” she enthused. “Princess Helene was on her feet applauding, do you know what that means?”

  Vince interjected excitedly. “Yes, it means we need her measurements so that we can send her a ‘Classique’ special!”

  Karen smiled. “Right, but it also means an unqualified stamp of approval!”

  Francine stood there, tears of joy forming in her eyes. Finally, this was it, world recognit
ion, she had played in the big league and held her own. In the midst of this her finest moment, however, she was still thinking that same thought, ‘Would Gerard like her designs now?’ she couldn’t wait to see his face.

  In the event, she could have waited all night in vain. During the final walk down the catwalk with her Models amidst resounding applause, Francine, who was still on Cloud 9, looked in vain for signs of Gerard in the audience, but without success.

  Even at the post show cocktail party when designers, models, press and buyers mingled freely, there was still no sign of him. Vince, who had been watching Francine closely, came over, a glass of champagne in each hand. He offered one to her. “Hey, forget him, Princess! After what you just achieved, we’ll be too busy to fill his orders anyway!”

  Francine looked him in the eye. “Maybe you’re right, Vince, but I really would have enjoyed seeing him eat crow just once!”

  “Yeah, well there’s time, because in case you didn’t notice what just happened, we hit the jackpot big time, Boss!”

  She smiled. “You’re damn right, Rainbow man, so let’s enjoy!”

  At that moment Yvette and Carl arrived, big smiles on their faces, chests bursting with pride. Yvette gave Francine a big hug.

  “Darling, you were marvelous! Did you see the audience? Princess Helene actually stood up and applauded when that fabulous red number came by!”

  Francine smiled. “Thanks, Guys,” she turned to a beaming Carl. “Looks like the lessons paid off, huh, Pops?”

  He hugged her to him. “Big time, Baby, big time!

  CHAPTER 33

  Later that night, closer to early morning, Francine was so light-headed from the euphoria of her success and one too many glasses of champagne, that by the time she made it back to the hotel she had lost track of time.

  She had schmoozed for over two hours with the European Press, agreed to give a TV interview the following day and sandwiched in between, she had been given a verbal pat on the back by her old critic friend Chris Matlin. He had zeroed in on her at the party.

  “Well, Kid,” he drawled. “I gotta hand it to you!”

  She grinned. “The finale, you mean?”

  “Damn right,” he continued. “Let me tell you something, when the crowned heads of Europe stand and applaud your stuff, the rest is all downhill!”

  She continued to smile. “So, in other words, Chris, you liked it?”

  He managed a rare smile. “Damn straight I liked it! Any woman wearing that red outfit’s gonna have to beat ‘em off with a stick!”

  She grinned knowingly. “Is that before or after she knocks ‘em dead in the aisles?”

  He smiled again. “Definitely after, Miss Dubois,” he shook her hand. “Watch this space, okay?”

  She nodded that she understood. “With baited breath, Chris!”

  He nodded as he moved on. “Bye.”

  “Bye, Chris.”

  Francine was elated that Matlin liked her finale and after he had moved on, she was immediately confronted by a crowd of potential European buyers, asking for details of how they could make contact for future purchases. Vince, ever prepared, had been handing out promotional material in her wake until the moment they left.

  Later, back in the relative calm of her room in the hotel, Francine was now finally starting to unwind. Vince had long since crashed and burned and Yvette and Carl had turned in for the night. Francine poured herself a long, cool drink and stepped out onto the verandah to savor the events of the evening before turning in.

  She checked for any phone messages from Gerard but there were none and still, above all the excitement of the evening, the fact that she had not heard from him was hard to understand.

  Realizing that she would not sleep until she knew the reason why, she took another fortifying drink, in support of those that had gone before and being in somewhat of a fearless mood, she picked up the phone and asked to be connected with Gerard’s room.

  She almost dropped her glass when the hotel operator told her. “I’m sorry, Miss Dubois, but Mr. Cinclare has already checked out of the hotel!”

  “But he can’t have, surely?”

  “I’m afraid so, over an hour ago!”

  “Thank you.” Francine put the phone down, totally deflated, ‘Not even a goodbye!’ she sighed, trying to figure out what could have caused him to leave so suddenly. Had she come on too strong before backing off out there at the beach? Was he feeling guilty at being unfaithful to Jeri, or was it business that had called him away at short notice? Finally, through the alcoholic haze in her brain, she suddenly put her hand to her heart. ‘Oh, my God! Don’t let it be Helen!’

  She finally turned in for a fitful night’s sleep, thoughts of Gerard still in her mind, but also still a few nagging doubts concerning what the European fashion press would say in print about her creations in just a few short hours.

  She needn’t have worried because she was awoken from a troubled sleep, with cotton dry mouth and the beginnings of a decent hangover, by a jubilant Vince who burst into her the room, his arms full of European newspapers. He tossed them on a coffee table, “Read them and smile, Princess!” he chirped.

  She was now wide awake. “You mean…?”

  “I mean they loved you!”

  She put her hand to her heart. “Oh, my God!”

  “Exactly, so we’d better brace ourselves from hereon in, because things are going to get a little hectic!”

  She squeezed his shoulder excitedly. “I think you’re right!”

  “I know I’m right.” he gushed.

  “So, we’d better get packed and out of here.”

  He grinned. “I’ve already packed, ordered the limo to the airport for after your TV interview, so, brush your teeth and put on some clothes and let’s get moving!”

  With a theatrical flourish he was gone. Francine sat in the chair and picked up the newspapers, found a pair of scissors in her cosmetics bag and started to cut out the various articles. All were complimentary if her grasp of French was anything to go by and even the walking gland himself, Phillipe Mitterrand had only good things to say.

  She called down to room service for a quick breakfast, spoke to Yvette who told her that she and Carl were staying on for a few days, showered and packed and by 10-30, she and Vince were in the limo on the way to the TV interview.

  Luckily for Francine, it was an American TV station doing the taping and so the brief encounter was at least in English, all of which went very smoothly before their final dash to the airport.

  As they checked their bags, Francine still found herself looking around at the gate for signs of Gerard, but the handsome entrepreneur was nowhere to be seen.

  Even at the airport in London, as they boarded their flight to Dallas, there was no sign of him. She was now convinced that she had frightened him off with that kiss, toe-tingling though it had been, but somehow it was also a kiss that he seemed to return. But who knows, she pondered, in the cool light of day, either some momentarily misplaced loyalty to Jeri had returned, or his lack of desire for a new relationship had won through.

  As they settled back in their seats, Vince as usual was watching her every move. “Still thinking about you know who?”

  She was jolted from her reverie. “No, no,” she replied a little too hastily. “What made you think that?”

  He smiled and patted her arm. “Oh, I don’t know, call it feminine intuition!” he winked at her and she finally smiled.

  “Yeah, right, so, let’s talk tactics. Where do we go from here?”

  “Firstly, we man the phones, because unless I’m very much mistaken, they’re gonna be going ring-a-ding-ding!”

  “Right, and we need to get Stella in for a quick conference. I should hate for her to be committed elsewhere just when we start to get busy!”

  “That’s for sure. I’m also going to call Verna. It’ll make her day when she hears about the red dress!”

  “Yes, good idea.”

  And so, as the flight co
ntinued, Francine and Vince started to make major plans, plans that for the moment did not include one Gerard Cinclare.

  CHAPTER 34

  “Mommy, mommy!” Alison was delighted to see Francine when Mrs.‘T’ brought her home from dance class. “Did you bring me a present?” the child asked.

  Francine smiled. “Hi, sweetie, is that all you can think of?”

  Alison put her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, Mommy, how did it go?”

  Francine hugged her. “It was great, darling, a big success!”

  “And did you sell lots of clothes?”

  “Well, not yet, darling, but at least the orders should start coming in.”

  “Great!” Alison was genuinely pleased as Francine hugged her again,

  “So, before we talk presents, have you been good for Mrs.‘T’?”

  The child looked a little sheepish. “Kind of.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well, I forgot to do my homework one night and got a note from the teacher.”

  “And?”

  “I stayed behind for a make-up test the next day.”

  “Well, next time, we’ll remember, right?”

  “Yes, Mom,” Alison looked at her beseechingly. “So, did you…?”

  “Did I bring you a present? Could I ever forget. C’mon with me.”

  Francine took Alison to her room where she had put a beautiful dress on the bed for Alison’s approval. She need not have worried, the child was ecstatic.

  “Oh, Mom, it’s cool, real cool!”

  Francine smiled. “Well, cool is not exactly the word I would have chosen, but I’m glad you like it.”

  “Like it, I love it!” the child hugged Francine tightly.

  * * * *

  Although tired after the long trip, Francine was at the workshop by 7-30 the next morning and a totally drained Vince and Thelma were already trying to man all five incoming lines.

  Francine had forgotten that Europe was six hours ahead and the calls from France were rolling in together with calls from England and the rest of Europe.

  She pitched in to answer the phones and by the time that lunch arrived, they had a fistful of orders, many for the red dress, so many that Francine was already on the phone to Verna.