“Oh, yes. Please.” Gilly said.
Betsy turned off the machine and wiped the gel off of Gilly’s belly. “There you are, my dear,” she said, helping Gilly sit up on the edge of the table. “Let me get the picture from the printer next door. I’ll be right back.”
Betsy returned with the printed picture of Gilly’s baby and handed it to the smiling expectant mother.
“When will I hear something from Dr. Kirkpatrick … if everything looks normal?”
“She should be back to you with the results in a few days, and, yes, she can tell if the baby appears healthy. But I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You can get dressed now. I hope you enjoy your day,” Betsy said, helping Gilly off the table.
Gilly gave the woman a hug. “You will never know how happy you’ve made me. Thank you, Betsy.”
Leaving the doctor’s office, Anne wrapped her arms around Gilly in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m just so thrilled. I’ll be hugging you a lot. Just think…a baby girl!”
“Yes, Mom, a baby girl. A healthy baby girl. I’m so relieved. I would have welcomed a little boy but I admit I was praying for a girl.” I want nothing to remind me of Maxime, she thought.
“Let’s stop at the cute deli on your street,” Anne said. “Pick up sandwiches and drinks for everyone. They should be starved by now.”
“Good idea, unless they finished and went out for something already.”
“Well, then you’ll have food for that little refrigerator.” Anne stopped, pulled Gilly into her arms briefly, and continued walking. “Gilly, I like your apartment. But I’m worried about you. With Maria getting married in a few weeks, you’ll be alone. I think you should come home on the weekends and I’ll come over a couple nights a week.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you with all the frantic packing. Nicole, one of my roommates in Paris, is coming, moving to Seattle. When I left Paris she said she’d love to help me start the business—launch my label. I called her about buying some fabric I had seen at one of the textile warehouses, and that I had just signed the lease on the apartment. I told her it was time for her to join me and she surprised me by saying she’d ship the bolt of wool and a trunk with her clothes. She even volunteered to sleep on a blowup mattress until Maria was married and moved out.”
“I should have known you’d come up with something,” Anne said handing the bag of sandwiches to Gilly while she paid and picked up the drinks. “I’m glad you won’t be alone.”
Only a few buildings away from Gilly’s apartment, Anne stopped again. “Gilly, has that detective found Edward?”
Gilly knew everyone helping her move was thinking about Spiky, they just hadn’t said anything to dampen the festive front they were putting up. They were all concerned about her.
“Not yet. Don’t worry, Maria and I will be careful, and I’ll call you as soon as I know he’s been arrested.”
Chapter 35
───
ACTIVITY IN THE LITTLE apartment accelerated to a frenzied pace with Nicole’s arrival. Maria ran double time tending to wedding plans, sewing samples for display, and training her replacement at the spa.
Nicole hit the ground running anticipating supplies needed for the break-neck speed of the collection and the sourcing of patternmaking, cutting and sewing factories to fill initial orders. She dangled a carrot in front of the representative of the factory she was considering for the first garments: if their workmanship proved to be up to her high standards, they would receive a contract as sales picked up. Nicole was a tough taskmaster warning the manager that if the patterns had errors, or the final garment wasn’t acceptable because of flaws, she would demand they create the item again.
Anne maintained a schedule of an every-other-day trip from Port Gamble to Hansville to Seattle making sure Gramps and the girls in the fledgling business were fed, especially ensuring that Gilly was eating properly.
Anne arrived at 11:30 Saturday morning with the weekend’s meals and insisted everyone take a break for lunch. Gilly sat back in her folding chair, glass of milk in hand, and grinned at Maria and Nicole.
“I’m calling a staff meeting right now,” she chuckled. Reaching into the basket in the center of the table she handed out notepads and pens as well as pulling a folder with a sheaf of papers out of her tote.
Nicole and Maria dropped into their matching, black metal folding chairs and looked at Gilly. It felt good to suddenly sit, let muscles relax and to breathe normally.
Gilly took another sip of milk tapping the top piece of paper full of notes with her pen. “We’re playing catch-up because we jumped into the business outside of the normal season. We’re behind the eight ball, heck, we haven’t even chalked our cue stick.”
How lucky am I to have such wonderful friends. Besides their support I think they actually believe in me. And my mom is pitching in from cooking to keeping the books. I only hope we can enter some numbers on the income side of the ledger soon.
“I’ve never played billiards,” Maria grinned.
“Neither have I,” Gilly said grinning back. “Anyway, I do have a plan, a set of objectives. We could have waited to set up our studio, but waiting meant loss of time and I could just see the savings I had put away to start the business begin to melt away. Of course there’s my baby, and Maria’s wedding. Nicole, thank God you joined us.”
“I’m glad I did, too,” Nicole said. “Starting a business is very exciting. Something I never would have had the nerve to do on my own.”
“I second that,” Maria added.
Gilly laid a clean sheet of paper on top of her folder and wrote: Gillianne Wilder Fashions.
“We start with a very targeted market—the career woman. And we start with five looks built around what I’ll call the Suit-Dress, the key piece being the jacket. The jacket will mix and match with not only the dress, but pants, and a skirt. Initially, each look will be limited to three colors, and three sizes. Distribution to Nordstrom’s and The Working Girl is considered ready-made—no alterations. But, a big but, we must constantly be on the lookout for wholesale opportunities—a great way to launch a label to hundreds of stores.”
“Oh, Gilly, how in the world can we expect to do that?” Nicole asked.
“Events. Renting a stall, talking to consumers who attend, but also trying to catch the attention of wholesale buyers. Catching that buyer is a wildcard. Here’s a list.” Gilly shuffled through the papers to three yellow sheets detailing the upcoming events scheduled for January through April.
“Because there are only three of us to market this breakout collection,” she smiled, “Each of us will wear multiple hats until we can afford to bring on staff as we grow. A dedicated salesperson will probably be the next employee.” With a twinkle in her eye, she looked at Nicole. “I have an idea who that might be but we need a few sales first. I’m considering Gabrielle Dupont. What do you think, Nicole?”
“Gabby would be terrific. She was our agent, Maria. Late thirties, organized, and sales ability bar none. After all she placed Gilly and I, a couple of green beans, in jobs at prestigious fashion houses.”
“Nicole, you’ve witnessed the designer’s operations in Paris first hand. As you’ve already begun, you’re in charge of sourcing the factories, overseeing their operation and making sure they understand that quality-of-work is paramount. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, and I must tell you I’m very impressed with one factory in particular that I met with yesterday. They can handle patternmaking and sizing, moving to the cutting workroom, and then finally to the sewing workroom. And the manager, Mr. Tony Vinsenso, understands our urgency when the first orders come in but never at the cost of quality. He said he’s ready to accept the orders. ‘Bring it on,’ he said. Actually I think he’s rather intrigued about your starting a new label in Seattle. He sees Seattle as a potential rival to New York.”
“Nicole, he isn’t running a sweatshop is he?” Gilly asked concern crossing her face.
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“No, no. He’s very nice, businesslike, and very handsome.”
“Oh, great. Just what we need. A handsome Italian.” Maria said prompting a round of chuckles.
“Maria, the lookbook is beautiful,” Gilly said. “All the descriptions and the position of the placeholders for the photos of the garments are perfect. I think by tomorrow morning we’ll have finished the main pieces for the five looks. You can take them to the photographer but I want to go with you. It’s very important that the models strike the right pose and I want to see the background. What do you think of white? Then you drop in other elements with your computer.”
“I agree. I was hoping you’d come with me.”
“Order three books. We’ll print more as we make changes. Then after Nordstrom’s and The Working Girl set up our display hopefully we’ll see a few sales.”
“Oh, you’re going to have sales,” Maria said. “I spoke with Susan Adams at Nordstrom’s, and she said she already has a waiting list triggered by your designs in the competition.”
Gilly closed her eyes, sighed, and snapped them open over a big grin. “This is exciting, isn’t it?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Maria whispered.
“I like your label. It establishes your brand.” Nicole said. “Gillianne Wilder Fashions.”
“The URL for the website will appear on all of our print material. Gilly, what about our titles on the business cards?” Maria asked.
“No titles. Only names for now, the website, and include cell-phone numbers. Limit the print run as I’m sure there will be changes. Maybe print two hundred with each of our names and the company name. And add Designs for the Career Woman under the company name: Gillianne Wilder Fashions.”
“What about a street address?” Maria asked.
“I’ve been struggling with that. A post office box sounds so temporary, fly-by-night. Use our street address. The apartment is in my name so mail or deliveries should not be a problem. How about the word Studio after the company name followed by the street address, city, etcetera?”
“Good. I’ll update the computer files.” Maria said jotting the added task to her list.
Anne walked through with a cup of coffee and a notebook. “Don’t forget, I’m keeping the books. Make that the chief cook, bottle washer, and bookkeeper. Someone has to keep you girls in line—three designers in one apartment will keep me busy I’m sure.
“You got that right, Anne,” Maria called out. “You’re the best at that chief cook thing. You deserve a medal.”
“Gilly, how soon can we get into rhythm with the design seasons? We should be preparing for February shows with next year’s fall collection. Are we going to show a new fall collection on the runway?”
“I think we need a year’s fashion calendar—January through March to show fall and winter; July through October to show spring and summer—to learn the ropes, but as I mentioned earlier, there are a few consumer shows already on the calendar here in Seattle. The conventional wisdom is not to spend a lot of money on the display but to do everything tastefully—simple but eye-catching. Maria, I think that falls under your marketing hat. Some designers I’ve spoken with felt it was a great way to launch a new line but to go into the event with the idea of getting feedback from buyers who stop at the booth. The point for us at this stage is to build a set of valuable contacts and to collect information both from potential buyers as well as actual consumers who stop to chat and maybe land some sales.”
“So, our goal is to make sales in the coming months while quietly launching the line,” Nicole said. “And we can perform market analysis by attending consumer events throughout the year.”
“That’s right. Perhaps at a late summer or early fall event we’ll introduce our spring collection. That should put us on track to attend a fashion week here on the west coast, maybe California, or here in Seattle a year from now. All our efforts for this first year are to launch the label, gain market awareness, hopefully obtain a couple of endorsements, and try to break even. Of course, if all that comes true we will have outgrown this apartment serving as our studio.”
“Whew. That’s some plan,” Maria said. “I need another cup of coffee.”
“Wait, that’s not all. We want to be on the lookout for space to open our own store—a small, sophisticated boutique-like place to meet buyers in a setting to show off our label and the essence behind GW Fashions. One guest speaker at school said it can help a new company to show the brand concept in a compact space. But that’s hard to pull off as a startup. Money, money, money. However … we should be on the lookout.”
“By the way, Nicole, ask that factory manager you like, Mr. Vinsenso, what he can offer us in the way of sourcing current fabrics and trimmings at a good price. We’ve chosen unique fabrics for our first five looks true to our concept—wrinkle free, soft draping. The fabric I asked you to buy in Paris is an example, but the more Vinsenso can help the better.”
Marie looked up from her notes. “Gillianne Wilder provides the highest quality designs for the career woman’s go-to wardrobe.”
Gilly laughed. “Trying out your marketing elevator statement on us?”
“You bet,” Maria said. “I want all of our print materials to hype who we are and what our label stands for.”
The buzzer sounded. Anne trotted down the stairs to see who was at the door. A few minutes later she returned with a package addressed to Gillianne Wilder, marked Open by addressee only.
Gilly froze. She recognized the handwriting. It was postmarked Tacoma, Washington. She reached into her tote for the pair of examination gloves DuBois gave her and pulled them on. She then slit the plastic tape sealing the small box and opened it. It contained a red heart with a steel spike identical to the others. Everyone knew the story about Edward Churchill and a chill swept over the room. The excitement of launching the new line evaporated.
Gilly pulled out the folded piece of paper under the heart and read the type-written message.
“Hello, Bitch.
As promised, here are the instructions for the payment you owe me as stated in my previous correspondence. You are to wire $20,000 to the account number below within seven days. If you do not, well, Paris will be a twitter with yet another scandal. Do not try to find me. It’s rather amusing to change my name almost every day, and the bank account is secret. Spiky.”
A long number followed with instructions to complete the wire transfer.
Gilly refolded the letter and put everything in a zippered plastic bag. “I guess this ends our staff meeting. I have to go see Detective DuBois.” Gilly kissed her mom and slipped on her coat. “You’ll be gone before I get back, Mom. Thanks for your help. The sandwiches were terrific and I can smell the beef stew in the pot. Take care, guys. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Gilly darted out of the apartment averting her eyes so they couldn’t see how much the package had upset her.
Chapter 36
───
DUCKING INTO THE DELI around the corner from her apartment, sleet rolling off her trench coat, Gilly stood behind the picture window frosted around the edges framing a display of breads sticking out of baskets. She placed the call to Detective DuBois. He said he was on the road and would swing by to pick her up at the deli in ten minutes.
Gilly hesitated, clutching her cell, watching the sleet peck at the deli’s window. Should she make a second call?
A month had slipped by since Skip had last escorted her to see DuBois. He hadn’t phoned and she couldn’t blame him. The touch of his hand on her elbow that day, guiding her out of the ferry terminal, had sent shock waves up her arm and smack into her heart. How did she respond? She had retreated behind a wall of indifference. So why call him now? Because he made her feel safe and at the moment she felt very vulnerable. She quickly punched his number before she second guessed her motive.
“Skip Hunter.”
“Hi.”
“Gilly … you okay?”
“A little shaky.”
Hearing his voice she felt sad and excited at the same time. Sad because she had betrayed him. Excited—the timber of his voice, she could almost feel him touching her cheek. “Dubois is picking me up in a few minutes. I received another package from Spiky. Instructions with the bank account. Where I’m supposed to wire the money.”
“Is DuBois taking you to his office?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll meet you there. Maybe we can go out for a drink after, if you have time.”
“Oh, I—
“Oh … well, you can have a glass of milk and I’ll have a beer.”
Milk? A beer? They were going to be near each other—at least for more than a few minutes. “DuBois just drove up. See you at the police department.” Gilly tossed her cell into her bag and darted out to the unmarked squad car, sliding in away from the freezing rain before the detective had a chance to get out and open her door.
“I hope you don’t mind, Detective, Skip Hunter is joining us.”
“Not a problem. When did the package arrive?” DuBois pulled away from the curb merging with the traffic, the wipers whipping over the windshield.
“About an hour ago. I used the special gloves you gave me—put the box and the letter in a plastic bag for you.”
“Okay, this won’t take long, then you and Hunter can be on your way.” The detective stole a glance at his passenger. He saw a composed, tough woman sitting beside him. A woman who was becoming very pregnant. “When’s your baby due?”
“End of March—I’m four months along and counting,” she said. No smile. She stared at the sleet sluicing down the windshield. Apprehension had replaced a smile.
Entering his office, DuBois helped her off with her coat, gave it a shake, and hung it on the old wooden coat tree beside the door. Gilly smoothed down her shirt just as Skip walked through the door. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he leaned around her to shake hands with the detective. Inhaling a quick breath Gilly moved away and sat on a chair facing the detective’s desk. Reaching across the desk she laid the zippered plastic bag in front of him.
Murder by Design Trilogy Page 35
