“No. He had to leave this morning. There was an emergency with a client. He’ll be back sometime tomorrow.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to seeing him. Speaking of tomorrow are we all set for Fashion Week in its new location?”
“Yes. Lincoln Center here we come. All systems are go, captain.” Shana got up. “I’m going to take advantage of the quiet before the storm and get some rest. I suggest you do the same.”
“I’m going to rest my eyes after I unpack.”
“That young man wore you out. You go, girl,” she joked.
Abby shook her head. “Whatever you say.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
Abby continued to unpack as she watched Shana leave her room. She had everything unpacked and in its place within ten minutes.
“That’s enough for now.” She looked around the room then climbed onto her bed. “Time to rest for a few minutes. “ She closed her eyes and drifted off.
***
A while later Abby felt someone nudge her. She slowly opened her eyes.
“Abby?” Shana said.
“Hmm?”
“Abby. Wake up.” Shana nudged her.
“What’s up, Shana?”
“Reggie’s here to see you.”
“What?” she said groggily. “What time is it?”
“It’s seven-fifteen.”
“Good grief. I thought I closed my eyes for a minute.” She sat up.
“You were tired.”
Abby got out of bed and went over to the mirror to check her reflection. “I don’t look too drunk tired.” She rubbed her eyes. “He’s in the living room?”
“Yep.”
Still in her jeans and sweater, Abby smoothed out her hair before she and Shana walked out of the bedroom to the living room.
“Here she is.” Shana pointed to Abby.
“Hi, Reggie.”
“Hi.”
“I’ll see you guys later.”
“Thanks, Shana.”
“Not a problem.” She said as she walked to the door for the staircase and disappeared.
“From the look on your face, I can tell that you’ve talked to Sam.”
“Yes. I have.”
“Am I allowed a drink or a cigarette before I face the firing squad?”
“You don’t smoke.”
“Then I guess I should have a drink instead.” She walked over to her wine rack and bar. “Here’s a good one.” She picked out a bottle. “Terlato pinot noir 2007,” she said as she placed it on the bar. “Shall I get two glasses?”
“Sure.”
Abby uncorked the wine and poured it into two glasses. She walked over to Reggie. “Here you go.” She handed him the glass.
“Thanks.” He took a whiff. “It smells good.”
Abby sat down. She took a whiff. “It smells like raspberries and strawberries. It’s practically dessert in a glass. Cheers.” She lifted her glass.
Reggie did the same.
“Now that we have our drinks we can talk turkey, right?” Reggie asked.
“Yes. So fire away.”
“You and Sam,” He shook his head. “That’s one thing I wouldn’t have seen coming.”
“That makes two of us. I didn’t see it coming, either. Once I did, I tried to get away from it, but Sam…” she started.
“I know. He’s very persistent. Once he gets something in his head, he keeps driving until he reaches his goal. It’s what made him such a successful quarterback.”
“I noticed.” She sipped her wine.
“Abby, I’m not here to chastise you or make any judgment. I know love is something that’s a precious and unexpected gift. And if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”
“Thanks but you’re concerned because of what happened with J.J.”
“Yes. I remember how hard that was on you.”
“It was a tough time for me.”
“Even though it was a big thing back then, I don’t think Sam knows.”
“Why would he? Ten years ago he was a twenty-six-year-old quarterback with the world as his oyster. Sam was reading the sports page and watching NFL Primetime and Sunday NFL Countdown with Chris Berman on ESPN. He had no reason to pay attention to tabloid headlines like NBA Player’s Wife Too Fat to Keep Husband. He had better things to do.” She took a deep breath. “God, it is amazing how quickly those feelings can come back.” She sipped her wine.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I know I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve gotten a lot stronger.”
“I know you’re a strong woman, Abby. However, Toni Redstone is out for blood and headlines. And Maria’s father, Big Bill is out for his pound of Sam’s flesh. This isn’t going to be pretty.”
“I saw all the news vans in Wallingford. Believe me I know this isn’t going to be a cakewalk.”
“Are you going to be able to handle it if your relationship somehow comes to light? The news vans in Connecticut are going to seem like a school of goldfish compared with to the piranhas Redstone’s camp will unleash.”
“It tested my metal once before, and I’m still here. If it comes down to it again, I’ll handle it.”
“I told Sam that he’s going to have to keep things low key with you for a while until we address this issue and get it off Page 6, EEN and every other media outlet.”
“I understand.”
“I’m glad you do. Sam is another story. Since you’re his editor, he thinks that’s his in to see you without raising any red flags.”
“Does he?”
“He doesn’t know that if he says he’s coming to work on his book that’s exactly what’s going to happen, isn’t it?”
“Yes. He does need to work on the manuscript. The wedding might be off the calendar but his submission deadline isn’t.”
Reggie laughed. “You’re still the Carey’s daughter, aren’t you?” He finished his glass of wine.
“Good or bad, I am.”
Reggie looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get back, but, before I do, I have one more question.”
“Do I love him?”
“Yes. Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He stood up. “You know when I saw Sam today there was something different about him. Then it hit me, he’s in love. Sam is really in love.”
Abby got up. She and Reggie hugged. “Thanks for telling me that.”
“No need to thank me. It’s the truth.”
“You know I thought you were going to be upset with me about this. Sam is your best client.”
“Yes, he’s my best client, but I’m not one of those managers who needs to control every aspect of my client’s life. He can make his own choices and I adapt to them. It’s that simple.”
Abby kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good man, Reggie Dawes.”
Abby walked Reggie to the elevator and the two embraced before he stepped in. “I’ll talk to you soon.” She waved as the doors closed.
Abby walked over to the coffee table and picked up her wine. As she sipped, she walked over to the window. I guess this will really be the test I need to see if I’ve truly managed to make my psyche bulletproof.
***
With his head held low, Sam made it through the lobby and upstairs to his room. As he approached his room he took out his key card.
“Sam,” a voice called out from behind him.
Startled, he turned around and saw Big Bill. At six feet, six inches, Bill Carrangelo lived up to his nickname. A big, imposing man, his people style was reminiscent of President Lyndon Johnson, another Texan who was skilled in the fine art of glad-handing and arm-twisting to get what he wanted.
“Mr. Carrangelo. What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d come by and talk some sense into you man to man.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea. We both have lawyers, and I’d rather they do the talking.” Sam turned, swiped his card and opened
the door.
“Okay. What’s your price?”
“Excuse me?” Sam couldn’t believe his ears.
“What’s the magic number to get this wedding back on track?”
“There is no magic number. I can’t be bought, and I’m sure Maria would be horrified if she knew you were willing to buy me off just so I’d go through with the wedding.”
“My daughter knows that I would do anything to make her happy. For me her happiness is the bottom line.”
“Then why don’t you concentrate on helping her get on with her life instead of conjuring up lawsuits?”
“The Lord only knows why, but she wants you.”
“And she thinks the way to get me back is to sue me?”
“We’re making a point. She’s not going to slink off in the background while you go off with another woman.”
“I’ll always love Maria and she will hold a special place in my heart. But I’m not in love with her. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t know what sorry is yet.”
“Is that a threat?” Sam snarled.
“Son, I can make this go real hard for you. Are you ready for that?”
“Bring your best, old man. I’ll bring mine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m calling it a night.” Sam went into his room and closed the door.
“That man has a set of brass ones,” he said as he tossed his bag on the bed. Sam took his phone out and dialed his parents. The machine answered. “Damn. They’re out.” He waited for the tone to leave a message. “Hey, Momma and Dad. It’s me. I called to let you know that I’m back in the city. I’ll call you later. Love you.”
Just as Sam was about to hang up another call came in. It was his brother, Zeke.
“Hey, Zeke. What’s up?”
“I could ask you the same question. How are you?”
Zeke Best, Sam’s middle brother lived a comfortable life in Texas. He and his wife of twelve years commuted between Houston and Dallas for business. A successful restaurateur, he owned two Best’s Barbeque locations in Houston and Dallas. He also owned The Rose Room, a Michelin-rated upscale restaurant in Dallas.
“I’m hanging in there.”
“You sound a little pissed to me.”
“It’s that obvious?”
“Of course it does to me, I’m your brother. What’s eating you?”
“I just had a run in with Big Bill. He was lurking outside my hotel room.”
“What did he want?”
“I’ll tell you what he wanted. He wanted to buy me.”
“Come again,” Zeke asked.
“He offered to pay me to marry Maria. I knew Bill played dirty, but I didn’t know he could go this far in the mud.”
“You better believe that he’d roll around with hogs in the mud when it comes to his daughters. I know you turned him down.”
“Without flinching,” Sam responded.
“I admire your resolve, Sam but you should know that you haven’t heard the last of him. He’s going to get to you one way or another.”
“He told me as much.”
“The restaurant business has its share of questionable and scary characters, but not even the toughest of the bunch could hold a candle to Big Bill. Watch your back, little brother.”
“I will.” Sam paused. “Let’s change the subject. How’s Jane?”
“She’s good. Thanks. She’s at Best’s Barbeque location here in Houston overseeing things tonight.”
“And you’re not working?”
“I’m here dealing with the books. I have a meeting with my accountant tomorrow morning.”
“Better you than me.”
“Thanks,” he said sarcastically. “I’ve got to get back to this, but next time you’re going to have fill me in about the girl.”
“Who told you?”
“You know Momma.”
“Yes, and we love her.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” He laughed. “All right, little brother, remember what I said.”
“I’ll remember.”
“Call me if you need me.”
“I will. Love you, bro.”
“Love you, too.”
Sam hung up, took his coat off and sat down on the bed. Indeed there is a girl, and I miss her already. Then he remembered that she was doing Fashion Week and decided for the first time he’d use the invitation he got every year.
Chapter 23
The minute his feet hit the floor Monday morning, Sam glanced at the clock. “I bet she’s in by now.” He picked up his cell phone and dialed.
“Good morning. This is Mindy.”
“Hi, Mindy.” He said cheerfully.
Mindy Feldman was one the best publicists in Reggie’s office. Always the first one in and the last one out, she had a way of making any request a reality as if by magic, and Sam needed her to wave her wand once more.
“Sam. Okay. What do you need?”
“Mindy. I’m wounded.”
“And I need you to get to the point.”
“Okay. I need to get on the list for New York’s Fashion Week.”
“You’re kidding, right? You get invitations every year and you never go.”
“I know. A man is entitled to change his mind, isn’t he?”
“Of course you can change your mind. But please tell me that you’re talking about the September shows. This week is fully booked by now.”
“Mindy, I know that if anyone can get me on the list today, it’s you.”
“I’m glad you know that. It’s the other people I’m worried about.”
“Please,” he said sweetly.
“All right. What show are you interested in?”
“I think the designer’s name is Cedi.”
“He’s doing the first full-figured runway show at Fashion Week. That’s going to be a tough ticket.”
“You like a challenge.”
“This isn’t just a challenge. I’m climbing Mount Everest in my shorts. Cedi’s show is a hot ticket. Nevertheless, I’ll make some calls and give you a ring in a little bit. Okay?”
“Thanks, Mindy. You’re the greatest.”
“We’ll see.” She hung up.
Confident Mindy would deliver, Sam headed for the shower.
***
The environment was electric as Shana and Abby worked the room before the House of Cedi debut. Interns checked the list as the line for the guests got longer. Dressed in a fitted tweed suit that accentuated her curves, Abby walked guests in and seated them for the show after she double-checked her master list.
As she escorted Kiana German, a writer for Detroit Fashion Pages and a longtime supporter of Cedi’s work, Lauren came over.
“Excuse me, Abby.”
“Yes.”
“Can I speak with you for a moment?”
“Sure.” She turned to Ms. German. “If you’d excuse me for a moment, I’ll be right back.”
“No problem.”
She and Lauren stepped out of earshot.
“What’s going on, Lauren?”
“That’s Kiana German you’re escorting, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then who’s that in her seat?” She turned toward a woman with long dark hair and a somewhat pale complexion seated in the front row.
“I don’t know. Tell her to get up.”
“I tried. She doesn’t speak English.”
“What does she speak?”
“I’m not sure. It sounds Russian but I don’t think it’s Russian.”
“Excuse me.” Abby walked over to the woman. “Pardon me.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not your seat.”
“Ja ne razumijem engleski,” she responded in Croatian.
“Of course you don’t speak English.” Abby put her hand in her hip. “To nije svoje mjesto. Morat ćete doći gore,” Abby responded. “In case you do understand English that means this is not your place. You have to get up.”
The woman looked shocked.
“Razumjeti?” Abby asked again. “Understand?”
She quickly got up.
“Evelyn! Can you make sure security escorts her out?”
“Sure thing, Abby,” she answered.
Abby walked back over to Kiana German. “Sorry for the delay. Please take your seat.”
“Thank you.” She smiled.
Lauren walked over to her. “Thanks, Abby.”
“No problem.”
“Can I ask what language was she speaking?”
“It was Croatian.”
“I didn’t know you spoke Croatian.”
“I had a friend in college who was from Croatia. She tutored me in the language. I knew it would come in handy someday.”
Abby walked back over to the front of the room. An excited Shana met her there.
“Can you believe we have a full house?”
“Yes. We even had some crashers.”
“Now I know Cedi is going to be big.” Shana said excitedly. “It looks like everyone is in their seats and we even have standing room only.”
“I know you live for this.”
“Oh, you’ve got that right.” She grinned. “I’m going to head back to see if we’re ready to go.”
“Okay. I’ll be right here.”
Abby scanned the crowd and then looked at her watch, hoping the show would start on time. She went backstage and found Cedi pacing like an expectant father.
“Are you okay, Cedi?”
A tall, distinguished man with skin so brown he looked like he’d been dipped in bronzer, Mr. Cedric Johnson began his fashion career in the shadow of the stacks of General Motors. He worked the assembly line by day and the pattern board by night before he retired from GM after twenty years of service. Able to devote more time to his passion, he created the House of Cedi and designed pieces for local celebrities before he branched out.
“I don’t mind telling you I’m nervous.”
“You have nothing to be nervous about. The clothes will speak for you.”
Shana walked over. “All the wranglers are in place and the girls are lined up to go. We’re ready to start.”
“I know you’re excited, Miss Thing in your one-of-a-kind asymmetrical Cedi dress,” Abby teased.
“I know. Are you watching from back here or are you going out front.”
“I’m going out front.”
“Good luck.” She kissed Cedi on the cheek before she ducked out to watch the show from the front.
I Take This Woman Page 23