Heirs Book Two: American Lady (25 page)

“Absolutely. Not even an Evian?” Leigh
opened the small bar fridge hidden by the sideboard and held out a
small bottle. “How much longer can you remain in Altobello?”

Charley was now looking quite pale and Leigh
felt sorry for her but couldn’t afford to let sympathy spoil the
effect she had created.

“Declan and Oaks both flew out last night.
Mom and I will be heading out this evening. Mom was supposed to go
to London with Lorenzo tomorrow for the Queen’s Cup polo but she
received a phone call at three this morning from her designer
saying some sort of crisis demanded her return, so we’ll catch the
same flight back to New York,” Charley spoke robotically.

“At three in the morning? It sounds like her
staff are as highly strung as your mother! I suppose one of the
models put on a few pounds so they can’t squeeze into their size
zero dress.” Leigh couldn’t help having a jibe at Nikki, but she
instantly regretted it as Charley tilted her head quizzically
towards her.

“So, how well did you know my mother at
school?”

A spike of anxiety raced heart-stoppingly
through Leigh. This was not a line of questioning she wanted to
open up. What was the best way to downplay their connection? “We
knew each other in our teens when we attended the Mary Magdalene
Academy.”

“Maix mentioned that his father knew my
grandfather. He said you’d met at my parents’ wedding. I didn’t
realize our families had such a connection. Did mom invite you to
her wedding?”

“I suppose we were friendly enough that she
invited me to be part of her bridal party.” Leigh chose her words
as carefully as a wounded soldier negotiating a land-mined border
crossing. “But I think that was because she was a bit of a loner
and didn’t have any special friends.” Leigh relished sacrificing
Nikki to the wolves. “And yes I met Henri then and once I married
him, your mother’s and my lives moved in very different circles. I
haven’t thought of my school days or Nikki for what seems an
eternity.”

She rose to her feet, trying not to look as
though she’d swallowed a bitter pill. “I mustn’t keep you any
longer since you have your lunch date with Maix.” Leigh checked her
watch again. “He should be free. I’ll get my assistant to walk you
there so you don’t get lost.”

Watching the young woman walk down the
corridor Leigh felt a pang at what she had done. Charley looked
positively shellshocked. Then her resolve hardened. Getting Nikki
and Charley out of their lives was for the best.

* * *

As Charley reached Maixent’s office he came
out the door with an older, gloomily gray man. They parted company
with a handshake and Maixent greeted her with a huge smile.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes. Dis donc,
what a morning I’ve had.” He let out a gusty sigh and pulled her
into the privacy of his office, wrapping his arms around her and
kissing her pouting lips until she was breathless and began
laughingly pushing him away. Then she pulled him close again,
needing to confirm that he truly loved her and that love was the
only reason he wanted to marry her.

“I’m sorry I’m so tied up that I can’t give
you the time you deserve. But I promise to do all I can to wrap up
this financial crisis before we announce our engagement. Let’s make
it a short engagement. What about a New Year’s Eve wedding? The
sooner I have you in my clutches the better!”

Alarm bells blasted a clarion in Charley’s
head and she found Nikki’s bitter comments about Maix marrying her
for money hard to dispel. “What financial crisis?” Her mouth felt
dry as the Mojave Desert and she could barely get the words
out.

“Oh, c’est moi – je fais
une montagne d'une taupinière. I’m not sure how to say it in
English, possibly I’m making a molehill into a mountain? Don’t
worry, I’m sure it will be over by September,” Maixent assured her
confidently.

“So there’s no problem
with Altobello’s tourism?” she prompted with a frown. “I thought
that might have been why you were keen to make the documentary with
Lorenzo?”
Leigh’s innuendos about fiscal troubles and her
statements about why Maixent was marrying her clanged ominously in
her brain.

“
Yes, tourism is down, but
not just in Altobello. Of course we’re hoping the documentary will
help. Once we’re flavor of the month again the tourists will flock
back here.”

“Really?” Charley said drily, pulling
herself out of Maixent’s arms. “You mean, once we announce our
engagement then Altobello will be in the spotlight again just as it
was when your father married Leigh Taylor?”

“I see you’ve been talking to my mother. She
thinks she single-handedly brought fame and fortune to Altobello,
but we’ve always been a favorite with the superrich and will be
again. Come,” he took her hand. “Let’s go to the salon privée. I’ve
arranged for Hyacinthe to make you one of his specialty lunches.
You will adore his cooking.” Maixent took her frowning face between
his hands. “Really, chérie, everything will be fine once we’re
engaged.”

Charley followed Maixent out of the office,
a clammy feeling of anxiety engulfing her entire body. She was no
longer absolutely sure that Maixent was marrying her for love
alone.

Flying back to New York together, Nikki was too tense
and Charley too confused to make small talk. Nikki retreated behind
her eye mask and Charley into the latest Sidney Sheldon novel
throughout the long night time flight. Knowing when they were due
to arrive home, both Lyric Duveyung and Griffin Capizichi beetled
over to Rosedale on Wednesday in Lyric’s prayer-held together
beetle to await their arrival.

At the sight of Lyric’s ivy green rust
bucket in the driveway, Nikki groaned and felt like ordering the
driver to turn the car around and head back to the airport. Charley
headed off to her room to unpack while Nikki found herself closeted
with the two men in her office.

“Giancarlo has quit and left American Lady
in the shit,” Griffin said peremptorily, his long, cowboy booted
legs carrying him restlessly around the room. “I turned up at the
Seventh Avenue offices on Memorial Day to get things sorted out as
we had arranged in Paris. As soon as I arrived I found Giancarlo
holed up in your office. I thought it was a bit suspicious. He
tried to bluff it out and get rid of me. I told him unceremoniously
that you had given me the job of sorting the company out. He
swelled his chest like a pompous frog’s and hurled Italian abuse at
me. Probably thought I couldn’t understand it and that he would
intimidate me.” Griffin shook his head over such naiveté. “ So I
hurled some Czech invective at him which rendered him speechless
for the moment.”

Nikki clutched her head. “What happened
next?”

“He retreated, muttering hysterical threats
and locked himself in your office. Before I could break the door
down, Giancarlo had taken all the sketches from your safe and
savaged them. There was nothing left of any of his designs. Luckily
I hadn’t brought mine into the office because you had told me to
work from home.”

“They’re all gone? The sketches for the
entire winter collection are all gone?” Nikki gasped, heading once
more for the vodka bottle. This time neither man stopped her as she
poured each of them a drink.

“Absolutely everything. Lyric hired security
guards to stop staff entering the premises until we sort this out.
I want your permission to go in today and sweep out Giancarlo’s
cronies, replacing them where necessary with new blood. The last
thing we need is someone prepared to sabotage us once we get my
designs on the drawing board.” Griffin paused pacing and both men
looked expectantly at her.

Nikki sank down in her leather swivel chair
behind the desk. If there were no designs then American Lady was
finished as a business. “This is a total disaster,” she said.
“Without Giancarlo’s designs there is no American Lady.”

Lyric and Griffin looked at each other.
Lyric’s Adam’s apple bobbed fretfully. “Actually Griffin and I sat
down yesterday and worked out a plan of action. In fact, this is a
great opportunity to pare down your employees and save money.”
Lyric was the ultimate bottom-line manager.

“Listen I got some great deals lined up in
Paris on materials and supply of some of the more exotic items that
we’re going to need for decoration. Apparently Giancarlo ordered
nothing for the forthcoming collection, not even samples. No doubt
he thinks he’s left us high and dry. He doesn’t realize what a
blessing that is because now we don’t have to pay for materials we
won’t be using,” added Griffin, finally sinking into the chintz
sofa and taking a huge gulp of his vodka. “Given our time
constraints I believe we should opt for a smaller collection this
season but let’s make it quality over quantity.”

“Oh, what’s the point!” Nikki exploded. “As
a designer you’re an unknown. I can’t risk American Lady’s
reputation on an unknown! You two have ruined my company. There’s
nothing left.”

Griffin’s mouth thinned ominously. With his
usual straight-talking style he refused to accept Nikki’s
complaints without demur. “First of all, let’s consider American
Lady’s reputation. Apart from the fact that for the last three
collections you’ve bombed in all the reviews, your clients have
been falling by the wayside for even longer. What reputation
exactly am I supposed to be ruining?” he glared at her
intimidatingly.

“Alright, you’ve made your point. The
business is finished. I probably should have packed up a year ago,”
Nikki said grudgingly. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m going to
marry Lorenzo and retire. I won’t need to be in business any
more.”

Griffin hurled his gangling body out of the
chintz sofa so forcefully that Nikki cringed back in her seat,
thinking he was about to attack her. Instead he resumed pacing
frenziedly up and down the room, circling the sofas, thumping a
fist into his open palm.

“Giancarlo was right,” he muttered. “I
thought I’d come to work for Nikki Cassidy, a strong, independent
woman who can stand up to adversity and keep on kicking butt. I
didn’t realize Nikki Cassidy has disappeared and instead I’m
dealing with the future Senora De Angelis, someone who prefers to
give up when the chips are down. Someone who’d rather her husband
took over and looked after her while she languishes back on her
cushions.”

Nikki was stung to retort. “My God, I’ve
worked myself to the bone for twenty years in this cutthroat
profession to make a success of my business. I’ve done a damn good
job but I know when to quit. I know when the party’s over.”

Griffin turned on her. “That’s exactly what
Giancarlo said. ‘Without me American Lady is finished. Nikki has no
guts, no brains and no originality.’ How could I have been so
stupid as to defend you?”

“Giancarlo would never have said that.
Without me he was nothing. I gave him his start in America,” Nikki
protested, disbelievingly.

“Really?” Griffin’s voice was as cutting as
the edge of his dressmaker’s scissors. “Then you should go out and
listen to the rumors Giancarlo is already spreading throughout the
fashion industry.”

Timidly Lyric unfolded a copy of the morning
paper and Nikki read the few words in the column with growing
anger.
American Lady worth zip without Giancarlo
it was
headed. It went on to detail how noted designer Giancarlo Ghiradi
had left American Lady to head the design team at Kate Gillespie’s
because “the company was washed up and he was washing his hands of
Nikki Cassidy.” It recorded the flops of the last three collections
and predicted pessimistically that since Nikki Cassidy’s company
had fallen from being ‘America’s Fair Lady to a shady lady of sadly
disappearing reputation”, the winter collection was all but dead
and buried.

“Giancarlo had his bolt hole already worked
out. If I hadn’t come into the office on Monday he would’ve taken
his designs to Kate Gillespie. In fact, he may have his own copies
which he’s taken there and just destroyed the designs in your safe
so you couldn’t use them,” Griffin pointed out rudely.

“What a dirty sneak!” Nikki fumed. “Well,
Kate Gillespie’s a third rate designer so she’s welcome to him and
his outdated designs. If American Lady is going down the drain the
only reason is Giancarlo’s failure to decipher the needs of
American women. All he’s going to do for Kate is drag her downhill
further and faster than she’s already going.”

“Not that you care about any of that since
you’re pulling out of the business,” Griffin said slyly. He’d
stopped his pacing and now leant over the back of the sofa behind
Lyric. “At least if you’re going to pull out, wouldn’t you rather
leave in a blaze of glory than slink out bankrupt and with the
world believing that after twenty years you left as a failure?”

Nikki toyed despondently with her empty
vodka glass. It wasn’t so much a matter of lacking pride as energy.
It would be so much easier to let the business slip through her
fingers rather than dig her heels in and fight the whole fashion
industry to win back American Lady’s position. She looked up at
Griffin who couldn’t quite hide the hopeful gleam in his eye. His
faith in her was undeniable and quite incomprehensible. The man
barely knew her. But he did know human nature and everybody
preferred to leave the game on their own terms, she thought.

“Alright, alright. I’m prepared to listen to
your ideas. What plan do you think you can put in place to salvage
the situation?”

“Dayam, I won’t deny that it’s going to be
difficult.”

“Especially as gossip of this caliber will
only frighten off the banks as well. Since your last overdraft was
settled by Paddy Cassidy, I had arranged with Fairbrother’s to
extend you a new overdraft to cover the cost of this coming
season’s collection. This morning I had a call from the bank
manager. They’re no longer prepared to offer an unsecured
overdraft,” Lyric said.