Chapter
13
On Monday I feel hopeful. By the time I check on her, Fran is up and dressed and assuring me she’s over the hump and ready for the day.
“Did you eat anything?” I ask, feeling like her mother.
She points to a tray of partially eaten food. “And I had the other yogurt you brought me last night.”
Satisfied that we might pull this off, I go to Paige’s suite, where Shauna and Luis are already set up for hair and makeup, and where Paige is selecting today’s wardrobe for us.
“I was reading about new designers who are debuting here this week,” she calls over to me from the closet. “Remember Rhiannon Farley?”
“Yes,” I say eagerly. “In New York. I loved her designs.”
“Well, it says here that she’s partnering with Eliza Wilton to—”
“Rhiannon is partnering with Eliza?” I turn my head, causing the eyeliner Shauna was applying to go across my nose.
“Nice move,” she says as she reaches for a tissue.
“Sorry.” I turn back around. “That is stunning news, Paige. Are you sure you read it right?”
“Yes. Apparently Eliza is the financial backing and business part of the deal and, naturally, Rhiannon brings the creativity.”
“That’s crazy. I can’t imagine two more different people.”
Paige laughs. “Kind of like you and me?”
“I guess.”
“But remember, Rhiannon and Eliza went to school together with Taylor and DJ and those other girls that Katherine Carter was grooming for the fashion world.”
I smile to myself as I recall DJ’s recounting of her grandmother’s high aspirations for those “Carter house girls.” Maybe the old woman had some influence after all. Especially since three of the girls are making a splash in the fashion scene. “So does that mean Rhiannon is here in the Bahamas?” I ask Paige.
“Yes, and it looks like she’s showing some casual wear during the same time slot as the Couture show tomorrow morning, which we’re scheduled to cover. It says here that Rhiannon is part of the Eco Show.”
“So we’ll miss Rhiannon’s show?”
“Unfortunately.”
“What if we split up?” I suggest. “I could take my camera to Rhiannon’s show and get some—”
“I don’t know.” Paige sounds doubtful. “You’d better check with Fran.”
“Right.”
So as soon as I’m done in hair and makeup, I hurry back to Fran’s room, where she is on the phone and the computer and looking almost like her normal self. I wait for her phone conversation to end then pitch my new idea.
“I want to cover part of the Eco Show,” I tell her. “I thought I could take my camera over there tomorrow, while you guys are shooting the Couture show.”
Fran frowns, looking as if she’s about to nix my idea. Suddenly she shrugs. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I nod eagerly. “I can do that?”
“I actually think it’s a good idea. Maybe you should set up some interviews with some of the other eco designers too.”
“Really?”
“It’s a good opportunity, Erin.”
“So I can take one of the camera guys with me?”
She grabs a copy of our schedule and begins highlighting certain things in yellow. “These are the events you must attend with Paige. Anything you can fit in between these times is up for grabs.” She then highlights some other things in pink. “These are some of the events where I think we can get by with one cameraman. I want to keep JJ and the rest of the crew with Paige, but if you want to take Alistair with you, I’m okay with it.” She gives me the schedule as well as a printout list of designers and contact numbers.
I can’t believe how relaxed Fran is about all this. She’s usually much more of a control freak. Then I remember what she’s dealing with, and the realization is bittersweet.
The first thing on today’s docket is the swimsuit shoot. I’d heard that the most beautiful bodies are to be seen at Bahamas Fashion Week, and now I know that it’s true. And they are not all stick-thin emaciated either. Many of the models look fairly healthy and robust, as if they work out. Both men and women come here from all different countries, and they are overwhelmingly gorgeous. To see them posing against the golden sand and turquoise water is spectacular.
Unfortunately, the weather is being less than cooperative. The wind is gusting, which knocks down one of the changing tents, and the rapid cloud movement plays havoc with the crew’s lighting. It all makes for some interesting moments and fun footage, and our cameramen seem to be enjoying themselves.
As we work on this shoot, in between times when Paige and I are actually doing our commentary, I’m sneaking peeks at the list of eco designers and making some phone calls. By the time we wrap it up, I have a Haitian designer willing to be interviewed at twelve thirty this afternoon.
“I’ve got Murielle Leconte set for an interview,” I tell Fran. “I’ll do it while Paige is meeting with Andrew Harris.”
Fran blinks rapidly. “Really? That’s great.” Then she tells me that since the Andrew Harris interview is in our hotel, Alistair and I can take the rental van to where the Leconte group is set up.
On the way to Murielle’s hotel I quickly peruse a website I found that has some photos of her designs. She uses bright, island-friendly colors and natural materials, and everything has a happy, light feeling. I mentally compare her clothes to the designs that Brogan Braxton put together—and while they both utilize bright colors, Brogan’s pieces seemed flat, with no flare or personality. They reminded me of paint-by-number, whereas Murielle’s designs feel alive and active and real—more like original works of art.
As it turns out, I need a translator to interview Murielle. As a result, I keep my questions very basic and general and then focus much of the time and camera on her designs. She not only designs beautiful clothing, but also bags, scarves, household items, and jewelry. She uses a lot of burlap, a design twist that I love, and the texture makes a great contrast with the bright colors. When we finish, I feel that despite the language barrier, we are simpatico. I thank her profusely and she gives me one of her wonderful burlap bags.
“Well done,” Alistair tells me as we drive back to the hotel. “Although I’m surprised Fran let you do it.”
“Yeah, I’m a little surprised too. At least we’re getting extra footage for the show. I’m hoping to get enough for a whole episode on eco design.”
“That’s a great idea.”
We make it back in time for the Peter Nygârd casual wear show, where Paige is already doing her thing. Alistair and I join her as we get some on-the-spot interviews and shots of models. Then Paige and I find our seats and the show begins. But as the models start working the runway, I realize I haven’t seen Fran around. I know she likes to stay behind the scenes, but I can usually spot her.
“Where’s Fran?” I ask Paige as a model wearing a striped, hooded dress struts by.
“I thought she was with you.”
“Oh.” I simply nod, as if that makes sense. But now I’m wondering where is Fran? And is she okay?
After the show, Paige snags a few words with Peter. Then we pack it up and head back to the hotel to order some dinner and get ready for tonight’s big event—local and renowned designer Kevin Evans is showing evening wear.
“Did you find out what happened to Fran?” Paige asks as we ride back to the hotel.
“I’m not sure. Maybe she’s still sick.”
“Well, we should probably call Helen.” Paige lets out an exasperated sigh. “Because there’s no way we can keep this machinery rolling without our director. Maybe Helen can send Leah out here to help.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” I feel a mixture of relief and panic now. Relieved that Leah will be here to help us. Panicked that Fran’s “secret” will soon be exposed and she could lose her job. But, really, what can I do?
“Dylan should be arriving in Nassau abou
t now,” Paige says happily as we go through the hotel lobby. “His show’s not scheduled until Thursday, but he’s coming early to check out the competition.”
“And to spend time with you?”
“Absolutely!”
“Where’s he staying?” I ask.
“In our hotel, of course.”
“Right …”
“After the Evans show tonight, Dylan and I are attending the after party at Balmoral Club,” Paige announces as we emerge from the elevator. “You can come along if you want.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”
Paige doesn’t seem to care.
I check our schedule. “So I guess we have a couple hours before the next show.”
“Yes. I’m going to take a shower and order some dinner,” she tells me. “Shauna and Luis should be here around six-ish. Come on over whenever you’re ready.”
I agree to this and hurry into my room then on through the adjoining door, where I find Fran in her bed, looking like death warmed over.
“How’s it going?” I ask, trying to mask the concern I feel.
“Not so well.”
“What are we going to do?” I ask gently.
She closes her eyes and shakes her head.
“I think I need to call Helen,” I say firmly.
“I know …” She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “I never should’ve come here, Erin. It was selfish.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. I do understand … partially. But, yes, it was selfish. She’s put both our show and her health at risk.
“I just wanted to get beyond”—she weakly waves her hands over the messy bed—“this. I just wanted to be well.”
“That’s what I wanted too, Fran. But it doesn’t seem to be happening.”
I return to my room to call Helen, but when I get her voicemail, I’m not sure how much to say. I hate sounding like a tattletale. And, really, Fran should be the one to tell Helen the whole truth. So I simply ask Helen to return my call as soon as possible. Then I call Mom and spill the whole story.
“I’m coming,” she says abruptly.
“Huh?”
“I’m going to get on a plane and fly out there ASAP.”
“What?” I collapse in the chair by the window and stare out over the beautiful tropical scene, trying to process what my mom is saying.
“I’m a director, Erin. You girls need one.”
“Yes, but — ”
“You girls are in a tight spot and I’m coming to help out. I’m sure Helen won’t mind. Remember, she offered me the job once. Even so, I’ll call her and straighten this whole thing out before I leave.”
“But what about your job? And Jon?”
She laughs. “Jon will understand. And my job … Well, I have a feeling that I’ve been replaced already anyway.”
“What?”
“I’ll explain it all when I get there, Erin. Right now I want to see if I can get a flight out of here tonight. That way I’ll be in the Bahamas by morning and we’ll all be ready to hit the road running.”
“Seriously?” I’m about to cry, I’m so happy. “You can really do that?”
“I can and, unless there’s a problem getting a flight, I will. In the meantime, why don’t you email me anything I can start going over on the flight. Your schedule for the next few days, a list of your crew and responsibilities, that sort of thing. Can you do that?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll download the Fashion Week schedule so I can be on top of that too.”
I can’t believe it when it I hang up. It’s like my mom suddenly turned into Superman. Or Supermom. Anyway, I’m so happy to think Mom’s on her way that I run over to Paige’s suite and spill the good news.
“What?” Paige cinches the belt of her bathrobe more tightly around her waist, frowning at me as if she’s not heard me correctly.
So I explain more slowly. But Paige is scowling now. She is definitely not as pleased as I am about this rescue plan.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I cannot believe you went and did that, Erin. Behind my back?”
“Behind your back?”
“Yes. I’m part of this show. A pretty big part, as a matter of fact. But you sneak off and ask Mom to come out here to direct for us without even consulting me?”
“I thought you’d be glad to — ”
“What about Helen? Did she agree to this?”
“Helen didn’t answer her phone and I called Mom to—”
“Just because Fran’s got a little bug, you can’t go around hiring someone to replace her, Erin. You’re not in charge of this show and you’re not — ”
“I know I’m not in charge,” I say loudly. “But Fran has got more than a little bug, Paige.” I’m angry now. And tired of playing games. In fact, I’m very close to telling Paige everything about Fran’s leukemia, but I know this is not the right time. “We need a director to get through the next few days. Mom is dropping everything to get here and — ”
“What about Mom’s job?”
“She didn’t seem worried. She’s trying to get a red-eye flight tonight, and plans to be here by morning.”
Paige twists her mouth in the same way she used to as a child, just before she’d stamp her foot. At least she’s moved past that now.
“Why are you so upset about this anyway?” I demand. “I thought it was great of Mom to do this for us. It’s a real lifeline.”
“Yes, it’s great, Erin. Just great.” She lets out an exasperated sigh as she picks up her iPhone, checking it for messages.
A little light goes on inside my head. “Is this about Dylan?” I ask her. “I mean you and Dylan?”
Paige shakes her head then stomps off to her bathroom, slamming the door loudly. I know I hit the nail right smack on the head. Paige is worried. She’s afraid that having Mom here is going to upset her romantic plans. She wants to be free to do as she pleases with her fiancée, and she’s concerned that her mother could put a damper on everything. Well, get over it, sister!
Chapter
14
The Evans show is a big one, and I think it might be my favorite yet. The music is totally Caribbean, the colors and styles quintessential Bahamas. The general feel is very upbeat, fun, and carefree.
Afterward, as Paige gets a few words from Kevin and some of the models, we spot Taylor, Eliza, and Rhiannon. With cameras still running, we enjoy a happy little reunion and find out all of them are heading off to the after party.
“You’re both coming too, aren’t you?” Taylor asks. As usual, the girl looks stunning, but even more so in a tropical print halter dress from the show she modeled for. Combined with her dark wavy hair and caramel-colored skin, she looks like she belongs here.
“Dylan should be here soon to pick me up.” Paige smiles as she peers through the crowd, no doubt hoping to spot him.
“By the way, congratulations,” Taylor tells her. “Dylan has been one happy camper since you two got engaged.”
“We were a little shocked,” Eliza says in a stiff voice. “I thought you and Benjamin Kross were still together.” She
straightens a thin strap of her stark white sundress and I can’t help but notice that her spray-on tan, while good, doesn’t look quite as natural as my sister’s.
“That was what the media wanted everyone to think,” Paige replies lightly. “Fortunately, they were wrong.”
“Right …” Eliza nods, but her expression looks dubious. I remember that Eliza had her eyes on Dylan too. Hopefully she can set aside her jealousy now that Paige and Dylan are officially engaged.
“I’m coming to your show tomorrow,” I tell Rhiannon, partly to change our conversation’s focus and partly because I’m excited I get to cover it. I explain about how Paige and I are splitting up to cover more fashion.
“It’s going to be a really small show,” Rhiannon explains. “I’m sharing it with several other new designers.”
“Small o
r not, at least you’re here and showing,” I tell her. “Kudos to you.”
She smiles at Eliza. “It’s thanks to Eliza,” she says.
“Yes, we read about that,” Paige says to them. “Sounds like a nice little partnership.”
“It was actually Taylor’s idea,” Rhiannon says.
“But I was happy to get involved,” Eliza says quickly. “I’m moving on from modeling, but I want to remain in the fashion world.” She smiles at Rhiannon. “And I believe in this little girl and her designs.”
The camera crew is shutting down now, and JJ comes right over to Taylor and her eyes light up. It seems the two of them are picking up right where they left off in France. “So is everyone heading to the after party?” Taylor asks again.
“Not me,” I admit.
“Why not?” Rhiannon asks. “It’s supposed to be great.”
“Oh, our director is under the weather and I thought I’d check on her.”
“Just give her a call,” Eliza suggests.
I consider this, but if she’s sleeping, the phone will disturb her, and if she’s feeling really bad, she probably won’t even answer. Suddenly I feel resentful of how I’m stuck playing nursemaid to Fran. Really, she is supposed to be taking care of us.
“Come on,” Paige urges me. “Fran’s probably asleep anyway.”
“Maybe I could go for just a little while,” I agree.
But “a little while” ends up being until after midnight. Still, the music is so good—a real Calypso band. And the food—an island banquet—is abundant and delicious. And it’s so fun to visit with both old and new friends … it’s hard to leave. But I know I must.
Although everyone else stays at the party, which is in full swing, I call a taxi and return to the hotel feeling a bit like Cinderella. When I tiptoe in to check on Fran, she seems to be sleeping comfortably. I realize I probably could’ve stayed at the party after all.
My phone rings before seven in the morning, but when I groggily answer, I’m pleased to hear Mom’s voice. “Our plane just touched down,” she tells me. “I’ll be at your hotel in less than an hour.”
Glamour Page 11
