Lauren's Designs by Elizabeth Chater Page B

He says the tear is mended so neatly you’d never believe there had been one. Gee, he’s nice. I didn’t believe such a dishy guy would pick up our cleaning.”
    “Was that all he said?” Lauren asked as calmly as possible.
    “No. He promised Dani and me a bonus if we did a good job. He explained how Mr. Masen’s been trying to do us dirt. That’s rotten.”
    Lauren and Dani exchanged glances. “A unanimous vote,” murmured Lauren.
    The three women ate lunch together and then went on to the afternoon presentation. It was Telford of Boston, the preppy guru, and predictably conservative-nostalgic. The elite loved it, of course. Like Nowak’s show and Janus’s, it had its own cult of dedicated buyers. Lauren and her models, all elegantly dressed, drew a number of admiring glances as they took their seats, but no comments.
    “You’d think they’d ask about the clothes,” Nella grumbled, who was very proud of the way, she looked in a rich amber silk cocktail dress that glorified her hair and her bosom.
    “They think you’re part of the audience,” Dani quipped. “One of the Back Bay elite.”
    “Haven’t you heard about Bostonians?” Lauren whispered. “They speak only to each other and God.”
    “Oh,” Nella said, round-eyed and credulous. Dani grimaced.
    “I’ve made arrangements for your both to have a session of massage, Jacuzzi, and facial at the Golden Door spa this afternoon,” Lauren told them. “Then, tonight, we’ll all go to Carlos de Sevile’s showing. You’ll wear your special evening gowns for that.” She smiled at their brightening look. “I’ll help you dress.”
    “Can we eat before the showing?” Nella asked. “I’m always starved.”
    “After,” Lauren decided. “That way, we don’t take a chance on spilling food on those clothes.”
    Dani and Nella laughed heartily. Lauren crossed her fingers and kept her mouth closed.
    “Then tomorrow, at about eight A.M., Derek and Tony have scheduled a dress rehearsal, with costumes, music, the works. I’ll get a steward to take the clothes racks to the old gym. We put on our September Song showing at two P.M. in the Royal Court Lounge. Think you can handle it?” she asked encouragingly.
    Both models nodded.
    “I suggest an early night tonight, in view of the eight-o’clock rehearsal.”
    Again the models nodded. Lauren smiled at them, feeling a real sense of gratitude to both. In spite of Herbert’s efforts and Dani’s roving eyes, they were rallying around Lauren. Her smile warmed.
    “Thank you both,” she said sincerely. “I really appreciate your help. I couldn’t do it without you.”
    Nella beamed and Dani looked a little embarrassed.
    Lauren said, “Enough schmaltz already. Off you go to the spa and live it up.”
    When they had disappeared, Lauren went to her suite. From there she phoned the purser’s office and asked for a reliable steward to take the racks of costumes to the rehearsal by eight o’clock the following morning. This was promised, and with a feeling of relief Lauren hung up the phone. She sat on the couch, daydreaming, for a long moment. Mike was always there at the back of her mind, warm and concerned and subtly supportive. Lauren wondered why a man as attractive and serious as Mike hadn’t been snapped up long ago. He’d never revealed anything about his private life, and not too much about his business interests. And, yet, surely he didn’t hop into bed with a different woman every night. Last night had to be something special. Lauren knew it had been for her. Did Mike feel any sense of commitment? He had said he wouldn’t let her go unguarded among the wolves, that he would escort her to the de Sevile showing and then bring her to his suite for dinner afterward.
    Lauren stared ahead without seeing the pleasant furnishings of the suite. What did she feel about Mike? Last night had been something rare and wonderful, an evening out of time. She didn’t regret one minute of it, although she