“Well, I’m not sure what you want to do, but I’m on my way to rehearsal. Want to come?”
“Of course. Let’s go.”
“Hang on, we’re waiting for Vince.”
Roger didn’t like Vince and took every opportunity to show it. “Probably fixing his eye liner!”
Francine jumped all over him. “Now cut that out, Roger, or me and you are heading for a major bust up!”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Touchy subject, huh?”
“That’s enough.” she warned as Vince came out of the elevator to join them. However, Francine had to stifle a smile when she saw Roger’s face as he took in the ensemble that Vince was wearing.
With a lime green sun visor with his chrome dome peeping through, this in turn topped a matching lime green see-through string vest above tight pink silk slacks and matching shoes.
Roger struggled to be polite, “Vince!” was all he could manage.
“Love you too!” Vince replied, equally sarcastically as they climbed into the limo to take them to the Fashion Auditorium.
CHAPTER 28
Compared to New York, the Monte Carlo setting was in a beautiful modern amphitheater in the midst of lush, colorful gardens with a cocktail terrace looking down across the deep azure blue of the Mediterranean.
Inside, in sharp contrast, the decor much more closely resembled an elegant royal palace from the past. The first irritant to confront Francine as she walked through the ornate doors, was once again to be given the eye by the eternal walking gland, fashion reporter Phillipe Mitterrand. He bowed courteously on seeing Roger and Vince alongside her.
“Good day, Miss Dubois. I look forward to seeing what you have to offer tomorrow evening, until then.” he bowed and moved on.
The double entendre was so sickening that Francine was almost ready to throw up.
“Who was that slime ball?” Roger asked.
“Just that, a slime ball. Tried to put the make on me last night.”
“What does he do?” Roger looked annoyed for once.
“Fashion reporter, so I have to be careful.”
Roger punched his fist into the palm of his other hand. “Well I don’t. Let me know if he bothers you again, okay?”
“Okay.”
Vince looked on with a ‘Yeah, right’ doubting smile on his face.
Once again, Francine’s heart rate had started to pick up considerably as she absorbed her present surroundings. In the main salon where the fashions were to be presented, TV crews were already setting up with miles of wires going in totally unexplainable directions.
To one side, there was a number of seats that were surrounded by a cordon of thick velvet draped rails and flowers. She pointed to it. “What’s that?”
Vince smiled. “That’s the Royal Box!”
A sudden chill went down her spine. “You’re joking! Like who?”
“Word’s out that Prince Victor and Princess Louise will be here, and you know what that means?”
“Yes, it means I suddenly had a heart attack! Do tell?”
He continued to grin. “It means, boss that every mover and shaker on the Riviera will be here. So if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll have my nervous breakdown right now and get it over with!”
Roger looked quite calm. “Hey, what’s the fuss? They’re only people, still put their pants on one leg at a time, just like us!”
Francine shuddered, trying to get a grip. “Yeah, right. Ah well, see you later, Roger, we’ve got things to do,” she turned with a knowing smile as they left him behind. “Try not to get too bored!”
He grinned, “I’ll try.”
And so, after two hours of hectic hustle and bustle, Francine had all the models and creations successfully paired up, the music sorted out and the Compere briefed. The latter this time was a diminutive French woman with enough fire and brimstone to melt Vesuvius and with a theatrical voice that would ruin your hearing if you listened too long. A true professional, and according to some of the models, as blatantly gay as Vince!
Finally, after the local fashion houses ran through their routines in a kaleidoscope of the weirdest music and off the wall models, ‘Classique’ got to do their thing. As in every profession, one tries to stay in touch with competition and this was no exception as the previous fashion house to strut their thing, stayed on in turn to check out ‘Classique’.
And so, when Francine’s fashions made their debut, it was nice to see the polite applause from her peers as her line unfolded, not that she was able to see the faces of those watching, so engrossed was she in the mechanics backstage.
The Edith Piaf look-alike and sound-alike Compere up front was doing a perfect job of presenting each item quickly in French and English, right up until it came the time for Karen to make her entrance in the red dress for the finale.
As Karen went through the curtain onto the catwalk, Roger, who had been chatting to a model at the back of the room, suddenly looked up as the Compere, for the first time, departed momentarily from her script with an involuntary ’Ooh la la!’ before announcing the creation.
Backstage, even Francine picked up on the ‘Ooh la la!’ thinking for one horrible moment that Karen had fallen off the catwalk again, that was until she heard the increasing applause from out there in the auditorium.
Cries of ‘Magnifique!, Merveilleux!’ could be heard. Vince and Francine stopped what they were doing and simply looked at each other. Vince was the first to speak, the only word that he uttered, with a huge smile on his face was. “Bingo!”
Francine nodded. “Wow!” was all she could manage. She took a peak through the curtain as Karen made her way back and at what should have been the highlight of her life, the first thing that came into focus was the back of the room, where Roger was now back in animated conversation with a sun-tanned model, his body language already saying ‘Your place or mine?’
With great self-restraint, Francine turned to the elated Vince who had not witnessed the scene with Roger. “So, what do you think, Rainbow Man?”
He grinned. “K’chink, K’chink! That’s the sound of the cash rolling in, Princess. It was worth waiting for the material. It looks even more incredible under the spotlights!”
“You’re right, it does. Let’s hope the crowd at the fashion show think the same and we’re on our way!” they hugged each other excitedly.
An hour or so later, as they made their way back to the hotel in the limo, the golden sun was setting over the Mediterranean and Francine could hardly bring herself to speak to Roger.
“So, what time’s your flight to Paris?”
“I need to leave about 8.00 pm for the airport.”
They were now walking back inside the hotel lobby as Vince was carefully unloading the fashions and paying the limo driver.
Francine decided then and there that she had finally had enough of Roger’s blatant flirting and she just came straight out with it. “Taking your little sun-tanned model with you?”
He feigned shock and then disgust. “My what?”
“Oh, excuse me, perhaps I didn’t see you draped around Miss ‘I wish I were topless’ at the rehearsal?”
“Oh, her,” he tried to smile but with difficulty. “No, she was just being friendly. I was minding my own business, watching the show and the next thing I knew, she was trying to put the make on me!”
Francine was unconvinced. “Hmm, from where I was standing, it looked like you were also trying to put the make right back on her!”
They were on the verge of a row as they reached the front desk. Francine asked for her key. “214 please?” The Desk Clerk reached the key and passed it to her. By this time, Roger had pulled himself back up to an attempt at indignation. Big mistake.
“Look, Francine, I don’t need this, okay!”
She looked him straight in the eye unflinchingly. “And neither do I. Goodbye, Roger and I mean goodbye!”
He shrugged. “Fine, I’m out of here!” he grabbed his key
and stormed off in one direction as Francine and a newly arrived, curious Vince walked off in the other direction.
“Good riddance, TV Man!” Vince mumbled as Francine stormed up the stairs to the second floor. Vince stood at the bottom of the stairs watching her go. “About time too!” he sighed.
Back at the counter, two cubicles further down from where Francine and Roger had parted company, Gerard, who had been sending a fax, turned round as the two so-called lovers went their separate ways. He pocketed his pen, a curious look in his eye before heading for the elevator.
Back in her room, Francine flopped on her bed and instead of being distraught at the parting with Roger, she felt a strange elation at the fact that she had finally told him to take a hike, something she should have done long ago. Now she could concentrate on the show with no distractions. Little did she know!
At that moment the phone rang. She waited a second, preparing in her mind what to say to Roger if he was calling to apologize. She lifted the receiver. “Hello?” she answered curtly.
The voice at the other end replied. “Wow! Did I call at a bad time?” it was Gerard. She quickly pulled herself together.
“Oh, hi, Gerard. No, that’s okay. What is it?” ‘What is it?’, what kind of a question was that?’ she asked herself, but Gerard was his usual polite self.
“I was just calling to ask how things went at the rehearsal,” he paused a moment before chuckling. “All the models stay on the catwalk?”
She even managed a half-smile. “Now don’t you start, I’m not in the mood!”
“I know.”
“What do you mean, you know?”
“I was in the lobby when you gave young Cronkite his marching orders!”
She was suddenly mortified. “Oh, my God! You weren’t?”
He laughed again. “And very nicely done too, if I may say so.”
She was relaxing a little now. “Well, in answer to your question, the rehearsal went reasonably well,” but her inner voice was saying. ‘Just wait till the show, big boy, I’m going to knock your socks off!’
“I’m glad to hear it,” he hesitated a moment. “I was wondering, do you have any plans for tomorrow afternoon, Francine?”
Her heart skipped another beat. “Why, what did you have in mind?”
“I was going to invite you to a beach picnic, so you can relax a little before your big event. What do you say?”
It seemed as though she almost blurted out her reply, but in fact she managed to sound at least a little reserved. “It sounds nice, Gerard, but where would the picnic part would come from.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” he replied. “I have a secret master chef with me, he’s called Visa. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll pick you up in the lobby at 2. Is that convenient?”
‘Are you kidding?’ she almost yelled. “Yes, that will be fine. See you then. And Gerard?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for the invitation. I needed something like that.”
“I know. Bye, Francine.”
“Bye.” she put the phone down and threw herself on the bed. ‘All right!’ she howled. The thoughts of sitting on a beach next to the sexy, sun-tanned body she had seen earlier, had cold shower written all over it!
She then proceeded to go through her wardrobe to find that the only thing she hadn’t even thought to bring with her was a swimsuit. Within minutes she was down in the hotel boutique where she finally bought the most audaciously sexy bikini she could find. As she tried it on in the fitting room, she took one look at the way it accentuated her slender curves and sighed. ‘Jeri, watch out!’
CHAPTER 29
After a quiet dinner in the restaurant that evening with Vince, where she once again had to literally beat the oily Mitterrand off with a stick, Francine was in her room later, wondering whether to have a nightcap, when the phone rang.
She picked it up and answered. “Hello?”
“Surprise!” an excited voice boomed in her ear. It was Yvette.
Francine blinked at the familiar voice. “Mom, where are you?”
“Right here in the lobby, darling. Waiting to see my baby.”
“Well, why don’t you come up, I’m in Room 214?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Yvette replied mischievously. “Might scare that gorgeous Mr. Cinclare away!”
“Now stop that, Mother. Gerard’s just a friend.”
“All right, all right, So get your best duds on, girl, we’re going to see the town!”
Francine felt suddenly relaxed. “Girl’s night out, huh?”
Yvette chuckled. “Not quite, darling.”
Francine was already grinning. “You mean…?”
“Yes, my sweet, hang on.”
“Hi, Francie!” her father’s deep voice came on the line.
“Daddy, this is great.”
“You didn’t think we’d miss the most important night of our daughter’s life, did you honey?”
“To tell you the truth, my darlings, I’ve been so busy I’ve hardly had the time to think. So, you guys hang tight, give me ten minutes and I’ll be right down.”
“We’ll be here, baby.”
“Bye.”
Francine put the phone down, an elated look on her face. Her parents were back together, at least for the time being. She quickly found a sexy-looking black dress and after a quick fix of her make-up, she made her way down to the lobby.
Yvette looked gorgeous in an audacious purple dress with ample cleavage and Carl looked debonair in a white tuxedo. They all hugged on sight.
“Mom, you look great!” Francine genuinely meant it. “Looks like the medication is working?”
Carl gave Yvette a playful squeeze that she soaked up like a sponge. “I don’t think it’s just the medication, darling.”
Yvette chided him playfully, “Don’t flatter yourself, old man.”
The banter was back again and Francine was enjoying every minute of it. “So, my elegant parents, where do you want to go?”
Yvette looked at her reproachfully. “There’s only one place to go, darling. The Casino!”
Francine shrugged. “Okay, lead the way, this is definitely my lucky night, so far!”
Yvette gave her a knowing wink as Carl went in search of a cab.
In all the movies and magazines that she had both seen and read about the opulence of the casinos on the Riviera, nothing came close to the effect it had on Francine as Carl paid off the cab and they ascended the exterior carpeted staircase and entered the gold-plated filigree doors into the foyer of the Casino of Monte Carlo.
Liveried attendants were already offering arriving guests free champagne as if to set the stage for all the delights still in store, not least of which was to try and painlessly relieve said guests of every cent they owned before the night was over.
All the clientele in the casino were elegantly dressed, the women as usual dripping in diamonds and all the men drooling at each sun-tanned cleavage that went past. All that is except Carl, who had eyes for no one but Yvette.
Francine smiled as she watched him. She was delighted he had seen the error of his ways and was dancing attention on the woman who truly loved him.
As they wandered from one elegant room to another, Francine was also attracting some interesting glances from the men as she sauntered along, careful not to return any interested stare in their direction.
Yvette had a weakness for Chemin de fer and as Francine stood quietly behind Yvette and Carl, both seated at the table, she almost jumped at the electric shock of someone touching her arm.
“Hi, stranger,” a familiar voice whispered in her ear. She spun round to see Gerard standing there. “I didn’t know you were a gambler?” he added.
She walked away a few paces from the table so as not to distract the players. He followed her.
“I’m not really,” she replied. “I’m here with my parents. They flew in today as a surprise to be at the show the day after tomorrow.” she pointed out Carl and Yvette.
“How nice of them. Perhaps I’ll get to meet them later?”
“Of course,” she replied, almost adding, ‘If not now, at the wedding!’ but her flippant mind managed to stay buttoned down as she added casually. “You are a gambler, I take it?”
He grinned. “Me? No not at all,” he looked at her roguishly for the first time. “Only bet on a sure thing, my old man used to say!”
“Hmm, I see. And what sure thing do you have in mind, may I ask?”
For the first time since she had known him, he actually looked at a loss for words. “Oh, nothing at the moment. As a matter of fact, I thought you may be able to help me there.” he added, feigned innocence behind those warm green eyes.
She gave him her. ‘What game are you up to?’ stare. “Me? Help you, in what way?”
“By coming up with the last item that I need for my spring line.”
She couldn’t resist the irony. “Don’t tell me that the famous Cinclare fashion package could be depending on an unknown little fashion house in Dallas, especially one that needs major surgery?”
He held up his hands smilingly. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Oh, I don’t know, there’s still time for you to redeem yourself,” she decided to change the subject. “So, how’s your friend Visa doing? Do we still have a picnic to go to?”
He touched the side of his nose melodramatically with his forefinger. “Oh yes, in fact I think you could say that he may even have excelled himself!”
“Uh, oh, you mean it may be more than just Coca-Cola and potato chips?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you. And before you ask the question, the answer is ‘Yes’.”
Now she was really confused, what on earth was he already agreeing to? “Yes what?” she inquired.
“Yes, we are flirting again!” he laughed and then hit her once again with that great smile.
“I’d never have guessed.” she replied casually. Just then Carl and Yvette excused themselves from their table and came over. Yvette had that ‘Look who’s here!’ look in her eye as they approached.
DESIGN FOR LOVE Page 12
