“This is my job, and I’m good at it. I’ll help you make this transition as painless as possible. If everything you have is in excellent condition, we won’t do a trash pile. We will just do a ‘keep’ pile and a ‘donate’ pile.”
Arianna breathed a sigh of relief. “Sounds good to me. Let’s get this party started.”
After an hour of going through her closet, Clive brought up a tray of coffee and pastries. “I planned to set this on the bed, but I see we don’t have a bed anymore.”
He placed the tray on the nightstand.
There was still a bed, but not a single inch of the surface could be seen. As clothes were piled two-feet high across the entire surface, and many hanging over the sides.
“And this is the easy part,” I said. “When we’re finished, we’ll go through the pieces we decided to keep and put together ensembles.”
Arianna said, “Really? I thought this was just going to be a clean out. Then I’d come to your studio and buy all new clothes.” She looked at Clive and winked.
Clive headed to the door, and before he shut the door, he said, “Remember buy one for every five you get rid of. Miss Maisy, have you been keeping count?”
I actually had been keeping a tally. “So far, we have two hundred and forty-three pieces being donated to charity.”
He looked back into the room at his wife. “I’m proud of you, honey, I didn’t think you would do this.”
Arianna frowned. “Don’t think I haven’t fought her every step of the way. But don’t forget, you’re next.”
Clive looked at me. “Please set aside anything that has the tags still on it, so I can have a dollar amount to give to our accountant. The rest I’ll just assume is a hundred dollars a piece.” And with that he shut the door.
It was always nice to see the wealthy donating, but I knew it was only charitable to an extent, because I knew it would be a tax write off. I tried not to think of it that way, preferring to see them as generous.
“So are you done tearing my soul to shreds?” Arianna asked.
I picked up her wedding dress from the bed. “Do you really want to keep this?” Astonished, Arianna said, “But that’s my wedding dress.”
“Do you plan on getting married again?”
I walked it over to the closet and hung it in the far corner. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re never going to wear this again, and I’m guessing you have hundreds of pictures of you in your wedding dress, so there’s no reason to keep it. But I do have a suggestion…” I waited for Arianna to acknowledge me. “I have a friend who makes lovely pillows from the fabric of wedding dresses. And looking at the decor here in your bedroom, I think the pillows would look lovely in your window seat.”
A little white to liven up the beige. Ha!
Arianna did a little hop and a jump and clapped her hands together, “What a terrific idea. Yes, we’ll do that. I love it.”
I wanted to jump and clap with her, glad she liked my idea.
“Perfect. So now that that’s out of the way, I will go down to my car and grab the vacuum bags to bag up all of the donations.”
Arianna looked stricken. “We’re doing that today?”
“You think I’m giving you a chance to put even one of those pieces back in the closet?”
Arianna flopped down on the bed, on top of all the donation piles. “You’re going to make sure I do this, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a wide smile.
It took almost another hour to bag up all of the donations and vacuum seal the bags. While I did this, Arianna added the totals of the clothes that still had tags and the pieces that we averaged out at a hundred dollars each. I nearly choked when she read out the number. “Fifty-six thousand, four hundred dollars.” Said as matter-of-factly as if it was only $56.40.
For me the hard work was over and the fun began as Arianna and I put together outfits that perfectly matched her personality and style. When we were done, I wanted to flop down on the now empty bed and take a nap. Instead, I made the appointment to come back to go through her husband’s closet.
Standing at the front door of their condo, Arianna called out to me as I walked to the car. “As soon as you get your samples in, I want to be your first client at the studio.”
I called back, “I’d be honored to have you.”
I clutched the stack of hundred dollar bills in my hot little hands as I got in the car and headed toward Tower Three.
Chapter Nine
Sick to my stomach at the thought of meeting the architect without any concrete ideas in my head, I thought I’d wing it and have my studio look similar to what Marla had in California. It was the only studio I had to reference.
Stella and her architect, Rocky, stood in the middle of my office looking at blueprints when I arrived. Somehow, I didn’t think it was going to be Stella’s office, and yet it looked as if she’d planned her own design. I wanted to complain, but I hadn’t seen the design yet, and I had to remind myself that I could actually afford the rent, but not much else.
Stella looked up from the blueprint, when I walked in. “You’re here. We were just looking at the mockup that Rocky did over the weekend. It shows the electrical and plumbing, so we don’t have to tear up the walls. I’m not sure any of this will work for you, but come look.”
Rocky was dressed in a tight black T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and wore a thick gold bracelet. He extended his hand to shake mine. “How ya doin’? I’m Rocky. Nice ta meet ya’ll.” A hint of New York Italian accent mixed with Texas twang. I loved it. He shook my hand vigorously. “Let’s go out into the reception area so I can lay this all out for ya on the table.”
Stella led the way. “I’ve already seen them. You sit next to Rocky.”
Before Rocky could unroll the blueprints again, I looked up to see Hugo coming out of the elevator.
Under my breath, I said, “Fuck me.”
Stella jumped up and said, “Perfect timing.” She wrapped her arms around her brother's neck and hugged him. “We’re just sitting down to look at Rocky’s ideas.”
I didn’t bother to stand, but I looked up at Hugo and said, “Good afternoon.”
A barely perceptible smile crossed the five o’clock shadow on his face as he nodded at me and sat next to his sister. Oh my, somebody was pissed.
I threw my total concentration into the blueprints as Rocky explained what everything was.
It was as if he’d read my mind. Just inside the entry to my new space, off to the right, he’d placed a wet bar/kitchenette. “The plumbing’s already there, ‘cause of the bathroom,” he explained. Across from that, in the corner facing away from the window, he placed a desk with chairs. Next to that, a seating area, again facing away from the large window.
I loved listening to his accent as he spoke. I wondered if he thought we had an accent.
“This right here can be wired for a large screen TV, which could also be used with your computer. This way, when you’re showing designs or whatever, ya’ll won’t be showing them on a crap computer screen. Just sit at your desk and work your magic on the computer, and bam, everything can be seen on the flat screen TV.” Rocky looked up to me for approval.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. “I love everything about this. It’s perfect.”
“That’s what I thought. So let me ask, where would ya’ll like to put the dressing room?” Rocky asked.
I looked up to see Stella and Hugo looking at the blueprints, and Hugo catching a glimpse at me with only his eyes. His ice blue, engaged, heartbreaking eyes.
I pointed at the page indicating the halfway point of the room, and said, “I don’t want a false wall for the dressing room. What I’d like is to have a curtain rod, or whatever you need to do to make it work, across here.” I ran my finger across the page. “I’d like to have heavy drapes to separate the room, and yet be able to open them when a client isn’t trying on clothes.”
Stella ran her finger across the same
spot I just lifted mine from. “Are you sure you like that idea? I mean this entire wall,” she pointed to the interior office wall, “is exposed to the reception area.”
“Yes, but I’d like to do floor to ceiling shelving which would hold jewelry, accessories, and a shoe rack. This would provide privacy and functionality. Besides, I could always close the blinds.” I looked up toward the office space. “There aren’t any buildings directly across from this one, so I don’t see privacy being an issue from the exterior.”
Hugo looked up, and said, “The windows are tinted, so privacy from the exterior won’t be an issue anyway, even if I put up a new building across the street.” He looked at his sister.
“Well, if you have plans to put up a new tower across the street, that’s news to me. I thought we planned to leave the space open, so we could see the skyline,” Stella snapped.
Hugo looked around and spoke as if to a two-year-old, “I didn’t say there were any plans, Stella. I’m just putting out what if’s.”
“Either way, the windows are tinted, and this is perfect. I can also place the clothing racks here, if there is UV protection also.” I pointed to the far corner on the blueprint.
Rocky nodded. “Yeah, every exterior window in this building is tinted and has UV protection, so no need to worry ‘bout things fading or getting too hot.”
“Very nice then,” Stella said. She looked at Rocky. “You’ll barely have any work to do.” To me, she said, “We just need to head over to my office and pick out furniture, so I can have it delivered today or tomorrow.”
“You mean, I’m going to be picking furniture from a catalog? I thought I’d head to the Nelson showroom downtown and pick out the pieces in person.” I wasn’t thrilled at the idea of Stella choosing my office furniture.
Hugo stood and said, “We’ll be purchasing the furniture, since your office will be visible from the hallway. I want to make sure the quality is fitting with the other spaces in the building.”
His implication stabbed me in the gut. Reminding me he was a billionaire and I was a poor commoner. If I hadn’t already signed the deal and had the check in my purse for the lease, I’d have stood and walked out. Instead, I said, “I assure you, I have very good taste in interior design, as well as clothes.” I looked him up and down, noting he wore an outfit I had picked out. “So, I wouldn’t be purchasing anything substandard.” I spit out my words.
“Sure. Whatever. But if you read the clause in the lease, we furnish all of the offices. This task isn’t particular to you, Maisy.” Hugo responded back with the same clipped tone I’d used on him.
Stella’s head moved back and forth between us as we bickered, a frown on her face.
Stella and Rocky stood. “I thought you understood that Hugo and I would be approving the interior design.”
Trying to breathe normally, realizing this wasn’t personal, just business, I said, “I’d be happy to look at furniture with you, Stella.”
Stella asked, “Rocky, is there anything else you need from us? Or are you able to get started right away?”
Rocky, still rolling up his blueprint, said, “Everything’s good. I have my guys on standby. This is a very small project, easy, so as soon as you know which TV she wants and pick out a design for the bar, we’ll get started.”
Hugo said, “Do the same bar that’s in my office. This part is not negotiable, the rest I could give a shit about.” He turned to leave.
“Glad you could take time to join us this afternoon, Hugo. Hated to take you away from your, oh, what should we call her? Your puppy.” I choked back a snicker at Stella’s description of Kelsey.
It seemed Stella was as pleased with having Kelsey back in Hugo’s life as I was. It didn’t seem like that when we saw each other yesterday. Stella seemed overwhelmed by Kelsey’s engagement ring and happy for her upcoming nuptials, at least she’d given that impression.
Stella walked Rocky to the elevator, and Hugo turned back toward me.
“I miss you,” he said.
I had every sarcastic comment in the world on the tip of my tongue, but I just said, “You’re the one who fired me.”
“You know that’s how it had to be. It doesn’t mean things have changed now that we're home. It just means you won’t be my stylist anymore.” Now he looked at me, his ice cold eyes staring into mine. “I just want to go to dinner so we can talk.”
“Like I told you before, rain check. I’m extremely busy trying to put a business together. I don’t have time for dinner right now.”
“You had time for dinner last night. I saw you.” His stare turned to a glare.
“I had dinner with Orlean to discuss designers for Kelsey’s wedding dress. I’d hardly call that an entertaining dinner. I call that work.”
“Really? So the tall, muscular guy who you hugged and kissed, he wasn’t with you?”
I nearly blew snot out my nose, trying to keep from laughing. “Derek is a client. Besides, if you were there, why didn’t you stop by the table and say hi?”
“Mine was a business dinner, too. I didn’t think it was appropriate.”
“What? You couldn’t introduce your business client to your whore?” I wanted to scream at him.
He took my hand, and every cell in my body jumped. I froze, not able to reciprocate by holding his hand, too.
“I hope your business dinner was successful. But I’ve got to go, Hugo. I have another appointment this afternoon, and then a meeting about Kelsey’s wedding dress in the morning.” I pulled my hand from his.
“I don’t beg, Maisy. Call me when you think you have some time for me. Until then I’ll leave you alone.” He turned away and nearly plowed Stella down.
“Dear God, Hugo, don’t be such a baby. It’s not like you’ve been readily available since you got home. The only time you haven’t been attached at the hip to Kelsey was last night when you were interviewing a new coder. So don’t be giving anyone any bullshit about not having time.” Boy did Stella have good timing.
Hugo glared at Stella. “I need to get back to my office, don’t call me if you need anything.” He didn’t even look at me as he stalked toward the elevators.
Stella called after Hugo. “I’ve got to get back to work, too, hold the doors.”
“Do you mind if I stay behind for a few minutes? I just want to look at at the space one more time before we decide on furniture.”
“It’s your office, honey, stay as long as you like, but we really need to get the new furniture ordered, so I can have it installed ASAP.”
“Doesn’t it take like two to three weeks?” Every time my parents ordered furniture from a store it took two to three weeks, at least, for the stuff to come in.
“Our warehouse is only five blocks away. But the workers are union, so they won’t be working after five.”
Hugo yelled from the elevator, “Stella, come on, let’s go.”
Stella strolled across the hallway to the elevator in no big hurry. “See you in a few,” she said to me, then disappeared behind the closing elevator doors.
As I walked back to my office space, my phone chimed. I pulled it out to see who’d sent me a text message. It was Hugo.
I really do miss you, it read.
I took one look at the message, then threw the phone across my new office. It slammed against the wall and landed on the floor, face down, the screen shattered into a thousand pieces. When I picked it up, a shard of glass prickled my thumb, and the phone was unresponsive when I pressed the home button.
I sat down in the middle of the empty room and cried.
Now, I had one more thing to do today. Go to Verizon and get a new phone. Thank God for insurance, because this was one expense I could not afford. Was complete and utter rage at being kicked to the curb for a WASP a good excuse for a phone replacement?
“And here I’d planned to call a few more designers and get samples sent,” I said to myself.
I pulled myself up off the floor, wiped my tears, and readied mys
elf to look at furniture with Stella.
Chapter Ten
By the time I reached Stella’s office, she’d already poured two glasses of white wine and had them sitting on her desk. The bottle chilled in a bucket on the side.
“You look like you had a rough day and could use something to take the edge off. I had my assistant open a bottle of chardonnay for us.” She twisted the bottle in the ice. “I hope you like it. It’s a Domaine Ramonet Montrachet Grand Cru, from Cote de Beaune, France.”
I nodded. She may as well have said Mogen David 20/20 for all I understood of it.
“The Montrachet vineyard produces some of the rarest and most expensive wines in the world. It is from one of four Grand Cru climates. This one is planted only with Chardonnay.”
“Sounds delicious,” I said. Jeez, I needed to learn rich people wine lingo.
“Domaine Ramonet Montrachet Grand Cru is rich, with lemon notes and a citrus palate, so I hope you like citrus.” She pushed the large stemless glass toward me.
“I really shouldn’t, I haven’t had much to eat today, and I still have to drive back home.” I couldn’t keep my eyes off the bottle, knowing the Grand Cru probably cost in the thousands. When was the next time I’d have a chance to drink from a thousand dollar bottle of wine?
“You really should. After that little spat with Hugo just now, it seems as if the both of you need to loosen up. And since I don’t have any bran handy, this wine will have to do.” She took a sip from her glass.
“Bran?” I asked.
“Yes, bran, you know, like bran cereal? Loosens you up?”
I choked back a laugh. “Okay, then.”
My resistance being almost nil, I picked up my glass and took a tentative sip. The luscious flavors of citrus rolled around in my mouth, and I had to keep myself from gulping what was left in the glass. “This is delicious. I’ve never tasted a wine quite like this.”
Mine (Dressing a Billionaire Book 3): A Romantic Comedy Page 7
