The Couturier of Milan

by Ian Hamilton

  She slipped off her shoes and went into the bathroom. She washed her face and hands and then undid the ivory chignon pin that held her hair in place. She had left Toronto four days before and was still feeling some minor effects of jet lag. She contemplated taking a nap but knew from experience that it might throw off her body clock even more. Instead, when she returned to the room, she sat at the desk and turned on her computer.

  There was a long list of emails from friends, most of them asking how the launch had gone. Ava answered them all, detailing the tremendous reception the show had received. When she was finished, she turned to emails from her girlfriend, Maria Gonzalez, and her mother, Jennie Lee, both of whom also asked about the show, and then ventured into other areas that were more problematic.

  Five months before, Jennie had won almost $100,000 playing baccarat during a week-long gambling binge at some local casinos. In the excitement of the moment she’d offered to take Ava’s sister, Marian, and her two daughters to Disneyworld in Florida, and Ava and Maria to Italy. The Florida trip had taken place in early December. The Italian tour was scheduled for early May, but two issues had arisen since Ava had accepted the invitation. First, she was convinced that her mother had burned through most, if not all, of her winnings. They hadn’t discussed it directly, but she knew her mother had taken a week-long trip to Las Vegas in January and was going to the local casinos on a regular basis. When Ava asked her how she had done, Jennie sidestepped the question. And when Ava tried to discuss the trip to Italy, her mother did so without enthusiasm. That could mean only one thing: Jennie had lost money, and probably a lot of it. If that was true, Ava didn’t imagine she could still afford to pay for the three of them to go to Italy.

  Jennie was the second wife of Marcus Lee, a Hong Kong businessman. The relationship had soured quickly and Jennie was sent to Vancouver with the two young girls. A few years later Jennie moved to Richmond Hill, a northern Toronto suburb and the place Ava thought of as home. Marcus looked after Jennie and his daughters financially. He visited Canada for two weeks every year and talked to Jennie every day by phone. As strange as the arrangement might seem to outsiders, neither Jennie nor her daughters found it odd. As far as Jennie was concerned, Marcus was her husband. To the girls he was their father, and the children from his first marriage, and later from a third to a woman now living in Australia, were their siblings.

  Ava wasn’t privy to the details of the financial arrangement between her mother and father, but she understood that he looked after the house and car expenses and provided Jennie with a monthly allowance. That allowance, Ava knew from experience, was spent every month and often before the month had ended. When Ava and Marian were still living at home, they knew that Jennie had burned through her monthly budget when there was increased rice in their diet. Now it was when Ava called her mother and asked what her plans were for the next few days and was told she didn’t have any. When Jennie had money, she rarely spent an evening at home.

  What am I going to do? Ava thought. Finding an excuse to cancel the trip would be awkward. Offering to pay for it herself would offend her mother’s pride. Ava had been mulling over postponing the trip, which would allow Jennie to save face and give Ava more time to deal with her second problem —her relationship with Maria.

  Maria and Ava had been together for almost two years. It was the longest relationship Ava had ever been in. Aside from a one-night stand she’d had on a business trip to the Faroe Islands, she had been faithful and had no interest in pursuing other women. She had no doubt that she loved Maria, who was warm, caring, beautiful, and a wonderful lover. The problem was that Maria wasn’t satisfied with the status quo. Months earlier, her appointment as assistant trade commissioner for Colombia in Toronto had been extended for an additional two years. The instant it was confirmed, she began to press Ava about moving in together. She was less insistent about marriage but dropped plenty of hints that it was what she wanted in the long run. Ava wasn’t ready for either of those steps and wasn’t sure she ever would be. Strangely, the idea of marriage was less stressful for her than the thought of living with someone.

  Ava had been living by herself since she left home for university at the age of seventeen. During her years working with Uncle, she was often alone on the road for weeks on end. Even when she was young, she’d never minded solitude, and as she got older she grew more and more comfortable with being on her own. The longest time she’d been under the same roof with anyone was the two weeks she’d spent in Thailand with Maria near the start of their relationship. Although it had gone well, she was still happy to come home, close the door of her Yorkville apartment, and sit quietly by herself at the kitchen table looking out onto the street. Since then, she and Maria had taken several shorter holidays and spent most weekends together, usually at Ava’s. As much as Ava enjoyed those times, she was almost relieved when Maria went back to her bungalow for the week. It was so much easier to breathe that Ava swore the oxygen level in the apartment had doubled.

  The email that Maria had just sent addressed the subject of cohabitation again. She was leasing on a month-to-month basis and her landlord wanted her to make a long-term commitment. What should I do? she had written. Ava slowly shook her head. She couldn’t think of an answer that would make both of them happy.

  Hello my love, it has been a wonderful day. The launch went very well. Pang Fai was fantastic, and there’s all kinds of interest in Clark’s work. I’m going to be staying in Europe for a few days longer than planned, but the schedule is still fluid. I’ll let you know the moment it’s finalized, she wrote. As for your house, I think you should extend the lease. I’m always so comfortable there, and we’re so lucky to be able to go back and forth, enjoying our two different neighbourhoods the way we do. Love, Ava.

  She reread the note and thought about waiting until the morning before sending it. But she disliked procrastination, and putting this off wasn’t going to make things any easier. She hit SEND. Almost immediately her phone rang, and for an irrational few seconds she imagined it was Maria.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Is this Miss Ava Lee?” a man’s voice said.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I am Raffaello Pandolfo. I’m with the Ventola Luxury Group. I believe that Carrie Song told you to expect a call from me?”

  “She did. We saw that Mr. Ventola and some of his associates were at our launch today. Were you one of them?”

  “No, unfortunately, I had other obligations, but Dom came away very impressed with what he saw.”

  “Thank you. Clark Po will be thrilled to hear that.”

  “Miss Lee, when I spoke to Carrie, she explained a bit about how your company is structured.” Pandolfo spoke softly, his tone rising and falling as if he were sharing a secret. “She couldn’t be precise, of course, but I was given the general impression that you and a Ms. Wong are financing the Po siblings.”

  Ava hesitated, not sure how to respond. “I’m not sure why our structure is of interest to you, Mr. Pandolfo,” she said.

  “Mi scusi if it was impolite on my part to enquire,” he said.

  “Momentai,” Ava said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s Cantonese, and it means ‘no problem.’”

  “I’ll try to remember that. It sounds like a useful word,” he said. “Now, do you have any notion why I’m calling?”

  “I’m not much of a mind reader, Mr. Pandolfo.”

  “Call me Raffi, please.”

  “And I’m Ava.”

  “Well, Ava, our company, VLG, has an interest in discussing the PÖ line with you.”

  “And what exactly is your interest?”

  “Well, Asia —and China in particular —is becoming an increasingly important market for us, both in terms of sales and as a source of raw materials and some finished goods. We’d like to expand our footprint there, and having an affiliation with a brand like PÖ would be a start in that direction.”

  “‘H
aving an affiliation,’ as you put it, is a very broad concept.”

  “I’m partial to the phrase. It implies caution, and we’re not a company that acts in a precipitous manner,” he said. “What we would like to do is sit down together with you and your partners and exchange information. You’ll have a better understanding of who we are, how we operate, and perhaps what we can do for you. We’ll have a better sense of your business and what your plans are for the future. Who knows, there might be some common ground for us to build on.”

  “We don’t need investors,” Ava said.

  “I haven’t suggested that you do.”

  “And as for the rest of it, I’m not sure —”

  “Ava, what harm is there in a simple conversation? No one is asking you to make a commitment or do anything except have a chat with us. We don’t bite,” he said with a laugh. “And if all that comes from it is that Clark Po gets the opportunity to meet Dominic, then at least we’ll have been entertained by their exchange of views.”

  Ava admired the way he had woven Clark’s name into the conversation and connected it with Ventola’s. “We already have dinner planned for this evening,” she said.

  “Do you plan to be in Milan next week, for the next show on the Fashion Week merry-go-round?”

  “No, we’re all going home. Most of us leave London tomorrow and the day after for various parts of the world.”

  “Instead of doing that, come to Milan,” he urged. “We’ll talk there.”

  “I don’t know if that’s even possible.”

  “How many people would you want to include in a meeting —assuming you agree to one?”

  “I have two partners, May Ling Wong and Amanda Yee. PÖ is run by Clark, his sister Gillian Po, and a woman named Chi-Tze Song.”

  “Are they all in London?”

  “They are.”

  “Discuss it with them, yes? Tell them that Dom has issued a personal invitation for them to join him in Milan.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be flattered, but even if they want to go, there’s still the matter of getting there and finding accommodation. We were told that during the run-up to Milan Fashion Week, hotel rooms in the city are booked months in advance.”

  “You shouldn’t have any problem finding flights, but you are correct that accommodation could be challenging. Rooms are booked years, not just months, in advance. I’ll tell you what, if you can’t find a suitable hotel we have a guest villa in Menaggio, on Lake Como, that I’m sure can be made available. It is big enough for all of you.”

  “That is generous, but —”

  “Ava, don’t say no to me, please. I take rejection very hard,” Pandolfo said. “Besides, you’re all here in London, only a few hours from Milan. The timing is perfect for us to sit together.”

  She hesitated.

  “Can I assume that your silence means you are at least thinking about talking to your colleagues about our invitation?” he said.

  Ava smiled. “You are very, very persuasive.”

  “So, you will talk to them?” he pressed.

  “I will.”

  “Molte grazie.”

  “But I’m not making any promises that they’ll agree to go.”

  “I understand, but you will get back to me sometime today with their response?”

  “I should be able to do that.”

  “You can reach me at the number I’m calling you from.”

  “You shouldn’t expect to hear from me until after our dinner tonight.”

  “You can call at any time.”

  “Okay, then we’ll talk later,” Ava said.

  “And hopefully we’ll see some or all of you tomorrow or the day after in Milan. Ciao,” Pandolfo said.

  Ava put down the phone and sat back in the chair with her hands clasped behind her head. What just happened? she thought. She couldn’t remember the last time a man —any man —had convinced her to do something she didn’t want to. And this man had done it in such a smooth way that she couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed.

  She called May Ling.

  “Wei,” May said.

  “I’ve just had the most remarkable conversation with Raffaello Pandolfo.”

  “What did he want?” May asked.

  “He wants us all to get together in Milan tomorrow or the day after for a chat.”

  “About what?”

  “He wasn’t specific, but generally about their interest in PÖ.”

  “How did you respond?”

  “Eventually I agreed that I would talk it over with our team.”

  “Really?”

  “May, how do you think Clark would respond if he found out he had a personal invitation to meet with Dominic Ventola in Milan and we didn’t tell him about it?”

  “He wouldn’t be happy, and frankly, it would make us look insecure.”

  “And if we just put off Pandolfo, he would eventually find a way to approach Clark directly.”

  “That would almost certainly happen.”

  “I agree, so we need to take the high road and be completely proactive,” Ava said.

  “I also can’t deny that being approached by the Ventola Group is quite a compliment and kind of exciting.”

  “Exactly, and who knows what could result? They’re a tremendous company and could provide us with types of support that we haven’t even considered.”

  “I just can’t help being wary about their intentions,” May said.

  “That’s just your natural Wuhan nature.”

  “You’re right,” May said, laughing.

  “After dinner tonight we’ll pull the entire team together and talk it through.”

  “I find it hard to imagine that Clark and Gillian won’t find the idea of meeting with Ventola irresistible.”

  “And if they do, we’ll agree to go to Milan. Even if nothing concrete comes from the trip, we’ll get a glimpse inside one of the world’s greatest luxury-brand companies and the chance to meet a legend.”

  ( 4 )

  They rode in two taxis to the Dorchester Hotel on Park Lane, less than two miles west of the Corinthia.

  Ava, May, Pang Fai, and her bodyguard were in one cab, and Gillian, Clark, Chi-Tze, and the show director were in the other. Amanda was meeting a friend for dinner elsewhere. The group was far more subdued than they’d been earlier in the day. The combination of jet lag, too much food and wine, and adrenalin burnout made for a quiet dinner and an early night. As they left the Dorchester, Ava pulled aside Chi-Tze and both of the Pos.

  “We need to chat when we get back to the hotel,” she said. “We’re going to have a short meeting in May’s suite.” She had phoned Amanda earlier and left the same message.

  Clark started to protest, but he quieted immediately when Ava said, “It’s about Dominic Ventola and VLG.”

  Ava called Amanda from the taxi to tell her they were on their way back to the hotel. “I’m in the lobby already,” Amanda said.

  They gathered in May’s sitting room. As they arranged themselves on couches and chairs, Ava couldn’t help but notice the natural groupings. Gillian and Clark were slouched side by side on a couch, her hand placed casually on his knee. They weren’t just siblings; they had worked together in their father’s garment business for more than ten years before he died and their uncle sold the business out from under them. At thirty-two, Gillian was two years older than her brother, and in addition to having the stronger head for business, she thought of herself as a protective shield between Clark and the rest of the world.

  Amanda and Chi-Tze also sat together. Amanda was Hong Kong–born and raised; Chi-Tze had grown up in Kota Kinabalu, in Borneo’s Sabah province. Now in their late twenties, they had met at Brandeis University, where they were both taking a master’s degree in business administration. Amanda had brought Chi-Tze into Three Sisters with the specific task of managing PÖ together with Gillian. So far she had been very successful. Both the young women were barely five feet tall, fine-boned, and delicate. In Ava’s m
ind they were becoming as inseparable as the Pos.

  May took a seat at the small dining table, slightly apart from the others. Ava joined her there. Still in her mid-thirties, Ava was closer in age to the others than to May, but her time working with Uncle had given her experience that went far beyond her years, and she and May had had a special bond from the beginning, intellectually and emotionally.

  “First of all, thanks for interrupting your evening plans. I know it’s been a long day, but I didn’t think this should wait,” Ava said.

  “You mentioned Dominic Ventola,” Clark said.

  “Yes. His business partner, Raffaello Pandolfo, called me earlier today,” Ava said. “He wants us to go to Milan tomorrow or the day after to meet with him and other members of VLG, including Dominic.”

  “Meet about what?” Gillian asked, sitting upright.

  “They were impressed with Clark’s designs and want to discuss his work and our company,” Ava said.

  “Are we having financial issues?” Gillian asked abruptly.

  The question caught Ava off guard. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Is Three Sisters having any difficulty financing us?”

  “No.”

  “And in the next year or so, if we keep growing and expanding, do you foresee any financial issues?”

  “We can finance any amount of growth you, Clark, and Chi-Tze can generate,” Ava said.

  Clark cut in. “What did you actually say to him?”