Authors: Bryan Murray
DESIGN FOR LOVE (14 page)
“Good!” she answered. “Now we won’t need to mention it again.”
It was possibly the most elegant cocktail reception that Francine had ever attended. When she looked at her neck and wrists she felt positively naked when she compared herself to the other women who were there, everyone dripping in diamonds.
All the big fashion names and some of the World’s top models were there, surrounded by the usual photographers and paparazzi.
A strolling waiter offered her and Vince a glass of champagne and almost before Francine had the chance to take a sip, a voice behind her caused her to turn around.
“So, you made it to the big one, kid?”
Chris Matlin, looking just as bored as he had seemed in New York, managed a tired smile as he looked at Francine. She smiled radiantly and shook hands.
“Hello, Chris, nice to see you and many thanks for your kind words back in New York.”
He shrugged. “Hey, that’s okay, but this is the big one, Miss Dubois. Did you follow my advice?”
She continued to smile. “You mean about the big finish, knock ‘em dead in the aisles, I think you said?”
“That’s it.”
“I hope so, let me know what you think?”
He managed a rueful smile. “That you can count on, kid! Good luck!”
“Thanks.”
As soon as Chris moved on, Francine was besieged by a number of reporters, many of whom didn’t speak English which made it difficult to communicate. One handsome Frenchman with dark, Gallic good looks, was watching her appraisingly. He waited until she was alone and moved in, smooth as silk, ivory teeth flashing.
“Allow me to introduce myself, Miss Dubois, I am Phillipe Mitterrand of La Vie de Paris.”
Francine smiled and shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Phillipe.”
Before she could ask the unspoken question in her eyes, he quickly interrupted with a grin. “And no, unfortunately, I am not related to Francois!”
“Been asked before, I’m sure?” she added.
“Yes, many times, I’m afraid. And so, this is your first visit to Monte Carlo, yes?”
She always wondered why Europeans always seemed to ask a question and answer it for you at the same time. “Yes, it is.”
“And you have something special to show?” he asked.
‘You’d better believe it
!’
she almost replied to the arrogant Frenchman. “But of course! Everything is special for every designer, Monsieur!”
“Yes, yes of course. Ah, perhaps we could meet for a drink later and you can explain it to me?” he replied.
‘
Here it comes
,’
she mused.
‘
Took you all of thirty seconds to start the come-on!’ she put on her best innocent smile. “But Phillipe, we’re already having a drink, yes?” she waved Vince over. “If you’ll excuse me, I see someone I must talk to. Goodbye, Phillipe!”
“Miss Dubois.” he bowed slightly before heading off in search of further conquests.
Vince was smiling. “What did I tell you about the big stick. It’s not just the dress, Princess, it’s what’s in it!”
She punched him gently on the arm. “What would I do without you, Rainbow Man?”
He smiled. “I don’t know, but don’t you try, okay?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t”
It was almost a sixth sense that made her look to her left to see Gerard standing there watching her from across the room, that 100 watt smile on his face. He looked totally elegant in a white tuxedo and he was already surrounded by three pushy women, two of them looked like models.
He raised his glass in salute and Francine smiled back, suddenly feeling the pangs of jealousy when she saw him confronted by three sets of more than ample cleavage.
Before she had the chance to think about it, yet another obnoxious Frenchman had zeroed in on her asking more stupid questions. So, this was Europe!
It was an hour or so later that Francine had finally had enough of the idle chatter. The other fashion designers had already left and she felt as though she had paid her dues to the fashion press, at least before they started to have their say after seeing her work.
As she made her way towards the balcony for a breath of fresh air, she caught a glimpse of a number of fashion magazines on a table to one side. It was not the fashions that caught her eye, all of which she recognized from the show in New York. One of the magazines had been left open at the page with all the pictures taken of the prominent attendees.
There, right in the middle of the page was a picture of Gerard with a big smile on his face and his arm around a smiling, clinging Jeri. Right next to it was a picture of the two women she had met with Roger in the restaurant in New York. But what upset her the most was that slap bang between them, squeezing them sexily, with a lusty look in his eye, was Roger himself!
She could only imagine that one of the two women had slipped a few bucks to the photographer to get the photo included, since all three of them had no real connections with the fashion world whatsoever.
So, what else had the wandering Roger been up to in New York? It was bad enough when Steve used to do it, but now, could it also be Roger’s little hobby?
It was almost eerie the way her very next thought was interrupted by a familiar voice.
“So, there you are!”
In open-mouthed surprise, she whirled round to see a smiling Roger standing there.
“Oh, it’s you!” was all she could manage.
He looked taken aback. “Is that all? Oh it’s you? What’s up?”
She was calming down a little. “Oh, nothing, except that I just happened to pick up a copy of a US fashion magazine.”
“And?”
“And there was a picture of you, squeezing the life out of those two bimbos!”
“Oh, that one.”
“So, you’ve already seen it?”
He looked suddenly very sheepish. “Well, yes, they sent me a copy.”
Now she was really upset. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
He put his hands up defensively. “Okay.”
She couldn’t believe she was so mad, but if she had really thought about it, she couldn’t have cared less. Perhaps it was her sub-conscious deliberately trying to pick a fight with Roger, but for what reason? The guy had flown all the way to Europe to join her, the least she could do was be sociable.
“Let’s have a drink?” she added.
“Good idea,” he lifted two glasses of champagne skillfully off a passing tray and gave one to her. “Are you free later?” he asked with that devilish grin on his face.
Francine suddenly didn’t feel like spending time alone later with her philandering boyfriend and she was desperately looking for an excuse. "I'm going to have to take a raincheck, Roger,” she replied. “I’ve still got a lot of final modifications to make and I’m about bushed. This jet lag is killing me. Let’s do something tomorrow, okay?”
Roger was clearly not happy. “Man, I came all this way to see my girl and she’s too tired!”
“I know, I’m a pain, but we’ve still got tomorrow, okay?”
“I guess.” he replied sulkily
After Francine and Roger had walked back inside, not ten feet from where they had been standing, Gerard, who had been sitting out of sight on a bench, speaking on his cell phone, stood up and followed them inside. He had a thoughtful look in his eye.
After saying a polite goodnight to Roger, Francine, dressed later in just a flimsy robe, stood quietly on her balcony, staring at the deep blue, star-studded Mediterranean night sky. All around were the fresh, sweet-scented aromas of a myriad of exotic flowers, all part of a setting so romantic that it should have given her goose bumps. All it did, however, was make her mind wander back to the earlier part of the evening.
She felt relieved that she had been able to avoid the continuing advances of Roger, particularly after his lack of remorse at being seen in the clutches of the two bimbos in Dallas. She was also strangely concerned at the way that Roger suddenly didn’t seem to fit into any scenario where Gerard was involved. Although Gerard had annoyed her intensely at their first meeting, his friendly, chivalrous attitude since then had made him so much more enjoyable to be around than the wayward Roger had ever been.
She wondered what had happened to Gerard since she hadn’t seen him for a while. Had he seen her with Roger and simply backed off? It seemed as though he was always in her thoughts these days.
‘
What’s wrong with you, girl
?’
she asked herself again before going back inside. She slid out of her robe, inspected her sleek, naked body in the full length mirror in the moonlight before climbing into bed.
It was a long while before she fell into a fitful sleep, visions of those warm, green, smiling eyes interminably clouding her senses.
* * * *
Just after lunch the following day, after a busy morning and once the ever-present Roger had gone to check in with his office, Francine placed a call to Dallas. She was delighted when Mrs.‘T’ answered the phone to report that all was well.
“How’s it going, my dear?” the older lady asked.
Francine tried to sound upbeat. “Pretty good, we have the rehearsal later today and then it’s the big show the day after tomorrow. I’ll call you again, sometime tomorrow, okay?”
“That’ll be fine, dear. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Francine quickly grabbed all her papers and went to find Vince who was still lounging by the pool. She had to smile because in addition to being gay, he still had a neat body that could turn most women’s heads. In fact a couple of topless local women by the side of the pool were already giving him the eye. Boy, were they in for a surprise!
He looked up as she approached. “Hi, Princess, boy do you look ready for work!” he chided.
She smiled. “Well, I figure one of us has to try and concentrate on the job at hand. I’m not the one attracting covetous looks from the locals!”
He grinned. “You noticed, huh? Just one problem,
wrong sex
, girl!”
He put on his robe and grabbed his towel. “Okay, I get the picture, see you in the lobby in 15 minutes. Are the girls all primed?”
“You bet. I arranged a limo for them at 2.00 p.m. See you later.” as Francine walked back inside, she bumped into Gerard once again. This time he was heading for the pool in just a pair of beach shorts with a towel around his shoulders.
She couldn’t help but stare at his semi-naked body, not an ounce of fat anywhere, a nice golden tan and muscles that showed that he had
really
been working out. He looked disappointed to see her leaving.
“Hi, Francine, time for a swim?”
Her whole body ached to say yes, but using self-control she didn’t even know she possessed, she replied. “I’d love to, Gerard, but I’ve got the rehearsals in an hour.”
She was having great difficulty in taking her eyes off his body and before she could stop herself, she found herself asking. “Where did you get to last night?”
He smiled and again her knees were hanging on grimly. “I kind of got caught up in conversation and then I saw your fiancée from Dallas arrive.”
Once again, she found herself replying a little too quickly. “He’s just a friend, not my fiancée, but you’re right, after he surprised me by flying in, it was the least I could do.”
‘
Liar, liar, pants on fire
!’
she told herself.
“Exactly,” he was being really charming. “When does he go back?”
‘
On the next plane if I can manage it!
’
she was thinking. “I’m not sure. He works for a TV station in Dallas and he’s checking in with them now.”
“I see. Well, perhaps we can have a drink later,” and he added quickly. “All three of us.”
“That would be nice,” she smiled. “I’ve got to go. Bye.”
‘Bye, Francine,” he grinned. “Don’t forget, all work and no play…”
She waved her hand in a friendly dismissive gesture as she left. As she stood outside the lobby, waiting for Vince and after herding the Models into their limo, Francine took a deep breath. Although every fiber in her being was telling her that the Show was everything, that it demanded her undivided attention, why was her inner self wishing that she were frolicking in the pool with a certain gorgeous hunk? Just the kind of distraction she didn’t need.
She was jolted out of her daydream by a quick hug from behind. It was Roger.
“Hi, there.” he chirped.
“So, how did it go,” she replied. “Gotham City need Clark Kent to return?”
He grinned. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a dig. Anyway, they want me out of here tonight, back via Paris. Apparently some top Texas politicos are on a junket and they want me to see what I can dig up.”
“Sounds more like the ‘
National Snoop’
to me!” she couldn’t resist it.
“So, what do we do until then?” he looked ready to hit the sack at the drop of a hat. The man was insatiable, she thought.
“Well, I’m not sure what you want to do, but I’m on my way to rehearsal. Want to come?”
“Of course. Let’s go.”
“Hang on, we’re waiting for Vince.”
Roger didn’t like Vince and took every opportunity to show it. “Probably fixing his eye liner!”
Francine jumped all over him. “Now cut that out, Roger, or me and you are heading for a major bust up!”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Touchy subject, huh?”
“That’s enough.” she warned as Vince came out of the elevator to join them. However, Francine had to stifle a smile when she saw Roger’s face as he took in the ensemble that Vince was wearing.
With a lime green sun visor with his chrome dome peeping through, this in turn topped a matching lime green see-through string vest above tight pink silk slacks and matching shoes.
Roger struggled to be polite, “Vince!” was all he could manage.
“Love you too!” Vince replied, equally sarcastically as they climbed into the limo to take them to the Fashion Auditorium.
Compared to New York, the Monte Carlo setting was in a beautiful modern amphitheater in the midst of lush, colorful gardens with a cocktail terrace looking down across the deep azure blue of the Mediterranean.
Inside, in sharp contrast, the decor much more closely resembled an elegant royal palace from the past. The first irritant to confront Francine as she walked through the ornate doors, was once again to be given the eye by the eternal walking gland, fashion reporter Phillipe Mitterrand. He bowed courteously on seeing Roger and Vince alongside her.