All That Glitters

by Diana Palmer

  She hadn’t much money, but she decided that she could at least afford a present for Dee, who’d been so kind to her. In one of the department stores that dotted the festively decorated streets she found what she was looking for—a beautiful silk scarf. It was more than she wanted to spend, but Dee deserved it.

  She was getting ready to move to the checkout counter when something caught her eye. She paused in front of the display and stared and stared. A man like Mr. Kells wouldn’t expect or want a present from her, she thought, and it wasn’t even expensive, but it would suit him. He’d given her a chance to show her talent, and she wanted to do something for him. On an impulse, she reached out and took the small tie tack off the display. It was on sale at half price and was 10-karat gold. The pearl, the sign said, was genuine.

  She placed it with the scarf and held her wallet tightly in her hand while she waited for the harried clerk to ring it all up. The total was enough to take most of her spare cash, but she didn’t mind. And they offered free gift wrap, so that was an added bonus. She smiled and thanked the wrapper. It would seem like Christmas, now that she had presents to give, even if she knew she wouldn’t get a present from anyone, except perhaps from Dee.

  Now, if only she had a Christmas tree. She had studied them lovingly in the lot she passed on her way back to the office. It would have been so nice to have a tree. She could make paper chains to go on it and icicles, and she could afford a string of lights. It would make her spartan apartment so much prettier. But the trees carried price tags that would take half a week’s salary or more, and that was just too much to pay for something that would last only days. She’d have to get herself a little artificial tree and settle for looking at the gaily decorated large trees in store windows.

  She’d just started into the revolving door of Kells-Meredith when the door suddenly swung open and out stepped Curry Kells, right in her path.

  With a shocked cry, she jumped backward, because he looked furious.

  He frowned as he recognized her. “Ivory, isn’t it?” he asked. His gaze landed on the small shopping bag with the two presents in it, glanced over her shabby coat and back up to her soft gray eyes and the golden hair peeking out from under the white beret.

  “Been shopping?” he asked.

  She nodded. “New York is so pretty during the holidays,” she said with a wistful smile. “I love looking at the lights.”

  “Got your tree up yet?” he inquired indulgently.

  “Oh, no, I can’t afford... I mean, I don’t really need one. They’re so messy, you know, live ones...” her voice trailed off, and she smiled to let him see that she didn’t mind.

  “I’ve been down to see the progress on the summer line,” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets as he shifted out of the path of passersby. “I can’t say I’m overwhelmed with enthusiasm.”

  She bit her lower lip and looked worried.

  “Your contribution is the only decent-looking garment I’ve seen,” he muttered irritably. “The junior designers, except for you, all seem to copy Virginia’s ideas.”

  She might lose her job if she told him that Miss Raines insisted on that.

  He saw it in her eyes. His lips pursed as he studied her. “You’re loyal. You won’t say a word against her, even though I have a good idea what’s going on.”

  Her face lifted. “My grandparents said that you should never say anything about another person if it can’t be something good,” she said with a smile that became a wicked grin. “So sometimes I didn’t talk about people for years!”

  He chuckled. She made him feel young and whole again. His gaze fell to her soft, bow-shaped lips and he remembered the delicious feel of them under his mouth.

  She caught his eye and deep waves of sensation pulsed along her veins as that blackness enveloped her in its unblinking intensity. She couldn’t have looked away to save her life. She didn’t now, and neither could he.

  His face tightened. “You’ll be late,” he said.

  She took a minute to absorb what he was saying. “Late? Oh. Yes. I should go.”

  He took a lean, beautiful hand out of his pocket and caught her arm. “Do some more designs for me. I’ll stop by your apartment Friday night and you can show them to me.”

  Her breath caught. She beamed with delight, but that quickly changed to dismay. “But, Miss Raines...”

  “Leave Miss Raines to me,” he said tersely. “Will you do it?”

  “Oh, I’d love to!”

  He nodded. “Think of it as covert operations,” he said. “Secret agent stuff. Industrial espionage. Except that we’ll be doing it for the right reasons. I want something that will set the fashion world on its ear, something that will get us operating in the black. If you can put some life into those tired old designs, I’ll give you senior design status.”

  “Miss Raines won’t like it.”

  “She’ll like having a job,” he returned. “If our sales don’t pick up, none of you is likely to have one.”

  “Oh, dear,” she said.

  “That’s the situation. Get busy.”

  The sudden pressure of her job felt uncomfortable, even though the chance to do another series of designs was pure bliss.

  He eyed the presents she’d bought again, and he lifted an eyebrow. “Only two?”

  “Well, I don’t know anyone well enough to give them presents,” she explained. “Just Dee and...” She stopped, flushing as she looked at him and quickly looked away before her expression betrayed her.

  But it was too late. He read the expression accurately. “And me?” he finished for her, stunned when she grimaced and verified his guess. “You bought me a present? And you won’t even buy yourself a new coat?”

  She glared at him. “I’ll buy a coat when I want one. And I can buy you a present if I like. Anyway, how do you know it’s for you?”

  He shrugged. “Wishful thinking?” He was smiling.

  She grimaced again. “Well, it is for you, but it’s not expensive. I can’t afford anything really expensive. I just wanted some way to say thank you for what you’ve done for me.” She looked up belligerently. “And I don’t want a present back, either! That isn’t why I did it.”

  His mind was full of women who expected diamonds or furs for a night on the town, rich women who didn’t need any more glitter than they already had. Not one of them gave a thought to him. He couldn’t remember ever expecting a present from one of his dates at Christmas, and here was this small-town sparrow pinching her belt tighter to afford a gift to give him. He was more touched than he wanted her to know.

  “You should spend your money on yourself,” he said stiffly.

  “I’ve embarrassed you. I’m sorry.”

  “Embarrass me?” He chuckled amusedly. “Hardly.”

  “I can take it back,” she began, knowing full well she couldn’t return the present because it had been on sale.

  “Don’t you dare!” He led her to the door. “Get in there and go to work. And don’t give away my present!”

  “I’ll bet you get carloads already,” she muttered, stopping to look up at him. “What’s one more?”

  “My mother gives me a tie, my sister gives me a belt and I’m lucky to get handkerchiefs or desk sets from the staff.” He smiled. “I’ll bet you didn’t get me a tie.”

  “God forbid, the kind you wear cost sixty dollars apiece,” she said without thinking, and put a hand to her mouth.

  “They’re silk,” he told her. “I like silk. I like satin, too.” His eye narrowed. “Do you have fabric preferences?”

  “Yes. Those. Silk and satin, but I can’t afford to make things out of them.”

  “The company will spring for the fabric, for God’s sake,” he said irritably. “You design. I’ll pay.”

  “You’re very grumpy,” she said.

  “I’m tired. You t
ry going six rounds with the board of directors over the new budget.”

  She stuck her chin up and her gray eyes twinkled. “I’d love to! What do you want them to do, and when do I start?”

  He chuckled. “I’ll keep you in mind when I lose control.”

  She sighed. “I’ll be dead of old age by then.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure.” He checked his watch. “I’m late again. I’ve got to run. I’ll see you Friday about eight, and don’t tell anyone.”

  “What if I have a date?” she asked.

  “Do you?”

  “Well, not yet...”

  “You do now. Me.”

  He turned and strode off without another word. Standing at the revolving door, she stared after him hungrily; she came to her senses just in time to avoid a collision with a couple coming out of the building. A hopeless longing for Curry Kells filled her. She couldn’t fight it. She decided to take the days one at a time and hope for the best. At least, she was going to get a shot at more designs. She could hardly wait to get her sketch pad out!

  She started that afternoon, her hand moving rapidly over the paper as she began to visualize the many styles and effects she could create drawing upon the Tudor paintings that were her inspiration.

  It was bad luck that Virginia Raines should see what she was doing and pause to glare over her shoulder.

  “Too flashy,” she remarked haughtily. “Simple lines, Miss Keene, simple lines. No frills and flashes, they’re faddish and they don’t carry over from one season to another!”

  Ivory looked up at her solemnly. “And if women buy dresses that they can wear for five years, don’t we defeat the purpose of designing new ones? If people buy fads that go out of fashion quickly, we sell more clothes, don’t we?”

  Miss Raines gaped at her. She sounded just like Curry Kells. “You...you really have no idea about how to design properly, and you are impertinent!”

  “That’s fortunate for you, isn’t it?” she asked gently. “Because if I’m that bad a designer, I’m certainly no threat.”

  Miss Raines’s thin face went scarlet. She lifted her chin. “Certainly not.” She folded her arms across her chest. “The very idea... Why are you working on the spring and summer lines? We have all we need. You should be thinking about fall.”

  Ivory didn’t dare tell her that it was Curry Kells’s idea. She had enough trouble with the woman as it was.

  “I’m just trying out some ideas for...for next year,” she hedged.

  “You should be working on the fall line,” Miss Raines repeated bluntly. “And scrap those way-out styles. Simplicity is the key to good design.”

  She walked away, having had the last word. Ivory watched her, so stiff and set in her ways, and hoped that she wouldn’t ever become so rigid. It was important to be flexible. Creativity was the true key to good design. She supposed that Virginia Raines had long ago decided to play it safe, with no deviation from the tried and true. But it was the pathfinders, the risk-takers, who made progress in any field.

  As she finished two new drawings, keeping an eye out for Miss Raines’s return, she felt vaguely guilty. It was uncomfortable to deceive Miss Raines. On the other hand, she recognized with a cynicism far beyond her years, that she had been deceiving people ever since she left home for design school.

  Dee stopped by her office to take a look at the new designs and was enthusiastic enough to make Ivory smile.

  “Has she seen them?” Dee asked, peering out the open door.

  “Yes. She doesn’t like them.” Ivory hadn’t told Dee about her talk with Curry Kells, and she wouldn’t. The fewer people who knew, the better. She smiled at Dee. “Well, they’re fun to do, and I’m being productive. I suppose I’d better do as she asked and sketch something for the fall line.”

  “Optimist,” Dee muttered. “The lack of enthusiasm on the line for Miss Raines’s new summer dresses is scary. If the seamstresses don’t like them, how does she expect the buyers to? You’d better do some smashing accessories, Ivory, or we’re all going to be standing in line at the local welfare office come February.”

  Exactly what Curry had said, Ivory thought sadly. Probably it had been sticking to the old ideas all these years that had brought the company to the brink of bankruptcy. Styles changed with the times, and many of the buyers for the luxury stores who swore by the old designs had either lost their jobs as buyers or retired. The new buyers wanted trendy fashions, things that sold to a younger clientele. Kells-Meredith was still designing for wealthy women to wear to club meetings, not for female executives to wear to business meetings.

  “Everything you’ve done is for evening,” Dee pointed out. “Have you any ideas for executive office wear? Please, not straight jackets and skirts with round-necked silk blouses...!”

  Ivory chuckled at Dee’s prejudice. “In fact, I do have some ideas. I was doodling and one just popped out. It isn’t like the Tudor inspirations, though,” she added a little worriedly. “Those are strictly evening wear. This design is just a very simple off-white suit, made of a silk blend or linen, with wide lapels, and a jeweled butterfly design on the bodice beside the lapel. Something like this, worn with a soft-necked open silk blouse.”

  She sketched it quickly and Dee loved it. “Why, that’s elegant. It’s appropriate, but feminine, and it would go from a conference room to a banquet. It’s...incredible!”

  Ivory grinned. “And you don’t like suits.”

  “Well, I like this one.”

  “I thought that we could apply the butterfly in gold tone or silver tone, and fill it with Austrian crystal.”

  “Yes,” Dee said, catching her enthusiasm. “And perhaps a nice black crepe or silk suit for evening—with pants or a skirt. You could use a black onyx butterfly, outlined in sapphires and diamonds and rubies...”

  “Oh, what a great idea!” Ivory said, delighted. She roughed out another sketch, incorporating Dee’s butterfly onto the suit design. She showed it to the head seamstress, who oohed and aahed.

  One of the seamstresses, passing by, peered over their shoulders. “Do I get to work on that?” she asked, beaming. “How beautiful!”

  Ivory flushed. “Thank you!”

  “That would be a joy to sew,” the woman sighed. “For a change.” She exchanged grimaces with Dee and kept walking.

  Dee reviewed the sketches thoughtfully and pursed her lips. “Ivory, you have to show that to somebody who has the authority to buy it. Mr. Kells, perhaps.”

  “You know,” Ivory said carefully, glancing around to make sure Virginia Raines wasn’t listening. “I just might do that!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE REST OF the week went by all too quickly. Ivory was kept busy working with accessories and helping fit models. Because the Christmas holidays were coming up and the plant would close down for at least a week, preparations for the shows the second week of the new year were being rushed.

  When she got home on Thursday evening, she realized that she’d better get busy if she was going to get the apartment cleaned up and bake a cake. She wouldn’t have time the next day before Curry arrived. She intended to serve the cake with the imported coffee she’d hoarded, and the real cream she’d bought for it. Afterward, she could give some of the cake to her neighbors, and save some for Tim.

  She worked through the next day with her mind whirling as quitting time approached. She rushed home and dusted again, and then she sat and waited, all nerves, for her expected guest to show up.

  Eight o’clock came, but Curry Kells didn’t. She didn’t know him well, but she was certain that he was usually on time. He seemed so efficient and conscientious. Perhaps something had happened. She didn’t think he promised to do things and then just forgot about them, but perhaps people in his social echelon didn’t value promises made to lowly junior designers. He didn’t know her well, after all. She was ju
st someone he’d met a couple of times.

  Ten minutes went by. Fifteen. She straightened the skirt of the blue jersey dress she was wearing. It was calf-length, its neckline and long sleeves edged with white lace. The black pumps she was wearing with it had scuffs on them not at all like Curry’s sort of date. He probably would be ashamed to be seen with her in public, especially in that ratty tweed coat she still hadn’t replaced. She wondered if that was why he’d wanted to come to the apartment, instead of offering to take her out somewhere. She intended to buy a new coat at the year-end clearance sales, when some of the smarter ones would be in her price range. Such a rich, influential man as Curry would hardly want to be seen with a woman who wore department store clothes anyway.

  His disappointing her was a blow to her pride, but she couldn’t afford pride if she wanted to rise in the company ranks. Here was the major executive, willing to look at her designs and possibly put them into his line. If he didn’t regard an appointment with her as important, she had to swallow the insult until she was no longer in danger of being fired for speaking her mind. She’d come so far. She had to be willing to make the sacrifices necessary to take her the rest of the way to the top.

  Waiting for Curry was beginning to feel like a career in itself. She looked at the small electric alarm clock on the table by the sofa. Eight thirty. Perhaps he wasn’t coming. She bit her lip as she looked toward the coffeepot, where the fresh coffee she’d made was beginning to darken. She’d have to make more.

  A sharp knock at the door started her heart racing. She jumped up, almost falling in her haste to reach it.

  “Who is it?” she asked cautiously.

  “Good girl, you can’t be too careful,” said a familiar deep voice. “It’s me. Open up.”

  She smiled as she threw the locks and opened the squeaky old wooden door. And there he was, resplendent in a dark blue pin-striped suit with a spotless white shirt and an elegant silk tie. He smiled reluctantly at her rapt expression, while he secretly deplored the clothes she was wearing. She would be pretty if she had the money to dress properly. She looked nothing like the young woman in the elegant satin outfit she’d worn to his party.