been ringing off the wall with orders,” he winked conspiratorially at Francine. “Yes, yes, that would be fine,” he continued. “3 o’clock on Friday afternoon, yes, bring a photographer with you, that will be okay. Yes, bye, my dear.”
He put the phone down and grinned at Francine. “That was Henrietta. She must have picked up the write-up from the New York Times and after months of being a bitch, all of a sudden, we’re flavor of the month!”
“And so?” Francine was still curious as to what he had just committed her to.
“They want to do a complete photo shoot and cover story, you know, local fashion house takes the Big Apple by storm, etc. etc.”
“And you said Friday afternoon? We’re snowed under, Vince. If we’re going to be ready for Monte Carlo, we haven’t a minute to spare. I can’t give them long.”
He grinned. “I know you can’t, Princess, but at least give them something, 15 - 20 minutes maximum. It won’t kill you and think of the coverage. Next time we go to the Apparel Centre, those turkeys will sit up and listen!”
She smiled. “As usual, you’re right. So, where are we?”
Vince couldn’t wait to tell her. “Well, the phone hasn’t stopped ringing since 7.30. Eight orders to date for multiples of different pieces. The pink suit is the big hitter so far.”
Francine’s mind still somehow switched back to her biggest disappointment in the last exciting 36 hours. “But nothing from Cinclare, I suppose?”
He patted her arm consolingly. “Let it go, Princess, Who needs them?”
“I guess you’re right,” she sighed. “So now, where’s the material for the red dress for the finale?”
Vince’s face clouded over. “I don’t want to talk about it!”
“In that case, I think you’d better. Spill it?”
“Verna’s been on and Sorrenstein Brothers have let us down!”
Francine went cold inside. Only Sorrenstein could get her the dazzling, vibrant red that she needed for her creation. Her whole mindset hinged around the impact of the mesmerizingly vibrant color.
“What do you mean, let us down?”
“I don’t know, something went wrong with the dye run she said.”
“And the bottom line?”
“It may be at least another week before we get the material!”
“My, God!” she moaned. “We’ve got to leave for Monte Carlo in eight days!” she was totally devastated. “And what’s Verna doing about it?”
“Well, firstly she’s embarrassed she made a promise she can’t keep, secondly, she’s threatened the entire staff, including Isaac Sorrenstein himself with instant death if they don’t pull out all the stops.”
This still didn’t sound promising to Francine. “And thirdly?”
“The second she gets her hands on the material, she’s promised to personally fly it down, with the bolt of cloth strapped in the next seat on the plane!”
Francine’s mind was working overtime. “What do you think, Vince?”
He rubbed the top of his head as if seeking inspiration. “We’re in deep you know what, Princess. I’ve gone over the whole design and cutting plan with Thelma. Even if we worked non-stop it would be a 24 hour job to get the dress completed from scratch and that would also need Karen available instantly for fitting as we go!”
“Yes, that’s true. And I’ve no idea what her modeling commitments are before we head for Europe.”
He thought for a moment. “I suppose we could just book her at the daily rate for at least the forty eight hour window from when we expect the material to arrive. Might be pricey!”
Francine nodded her head slowly. “That’s true, but what choice do we have? I certainly can’t risk a repeat of Dallas with last minute alterations - not with a show like Monte Carlo!”
Vince nodded. “I agree. So, what do I do?”
“Call her. Book her if you can and let’s pray that Verna delivers this time.”
Vince hesitated a moment. “I suppose we could try and find another source?”
Francine looked him
He put the phone down and grinned at Francine. “That was Henrietta. She must have picked up the write-up from the New York Times and after months of being a bitch, all of a sudden, we’re flavor of the month!”
“And so?” Francine was still curious as to what he had just committed her to.
“They want to do a complete photo shoot and cover story, you know, local fashion house takes the Big Apple by storm, etc. etc.”
“And you said Friday afternoon? We’re snowed under, Vince. If we’re going to be ready for Monte Carlo, we haven’t a minute to spare. I can’t give them long.”
He grinned. “I know you can’t, Princess, but at least give them something, 15 - 20 minutes maximum. It won’t kill you and think of the coverage. Next time we go to the Apparel Centre, those turkeys will sit up and listen!”
She smiled. “As usual, you’re right. So, where are we?”
Vince couldn’t wait to tell her. “Well, the phone hasn’t stopped ringing since 7.30. Eight orders to date for multiples of different pieces. The pink suit is the big hitter so far.”
Francine’s mind still somehow switched back to her biggest disappointment in the last exciting 36 hours. “But nothing from Cinclare, I suppose?”
He patted her arm consolingly. “Let it go, Princess, Who needs them?”
“I guess you’re right,” she sighed. “So now, where’s the material for the red dress for the finale?”
Vince’s face clouded over. “I don’t want to talk about it!”
“In that case, I think you’d better. Spill it?”
“Verna’s been on and Sorrenstein Brothers have let us down!”
Francine went cold inside. Only Sorrenstein could get her the dazzling, vibrant red that she needed for her creation. Her whole mindset hinged around the impact of the mesmerizingly vibrant color.
“What do you mean, let us down?”
“I don’t know, something went wrong with the dye run she said.”
“And the bottom line?”
“It may be at least another week before we get the material!”
“My, God!” she moaned. “We’ve got to leave for Monte Carlo in eight days!” she was totally devastated. “And what’s Verna doing about it?”
“Well, firstly she’s embarrassed she made a promise she can’t keep, secondly, she’s threatened the entire staff, including Isaac Sorrenstein himself with instant death if they don’t pull out all the stops.”
This still didn’t sound promising to Francine. “And thirdly?”
“The second she gets her hands on the material, she’s promised to personally fly it down, with the bolt of cloth strapped in the next seat on the plane!”
Francine’s mind was working overtime. “What do you think, Vince?”
He rubbed the top of his head as if seeking inspiration. “We’re in deep you know what, Princess. I’ve gone over the whole design and cutting plan with Thelma. Even if we worked non-stop it would be a 24 hour job to get the dress completed from scratch and that would also need Karen available instantly for fitting as we go!”
“Yes, that’s true. And I’ve no idea what her modeling commitments are before we head for Europe.”
He thought for a moment. “I suppose we could just book her at the daily rate for at least the forty eight hour window from when we expect the material to arrive. Might be pricey!”
Francine nodded her head slowly. “That’s true, but what choice do we have? I certainly can’t risk a repeat of Dallas with last minute alterations - not with a show like Monte Carlo!”
Vince nodded. “I agree. So, what do I do?”
“Call her. Book her if you can and let’s pray that Verna delivers this time.”
Vince hesitated a moment. “I suppose we could try and find another source?”
Francine looked him
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