Breaking the Rules (16 page)

‘I
f this shoot works for all of us the way I think it will, then it’s Frankie we have to thank,’ Luke Hendricks said, looking from Caresse to M.

The young photographer and the two women were sitting in the kitchen which opened off the largest of the Farantino studios, drinking coffee and going over plans in general for the upcoming session.

It was Caresse who spoke first, asking, ‘But what do you mean, Luke? How is Frankie involved when he’s de—’ She broke off her sentence, cleared her throat and finished, ‘Not here.’

‘Because it was Frankie who showed Jean-Louis Tremont the pictures of M when we met up with him in Monte Carlo. We were doing a shoot for him there and, when he saw you, M, he was over the moon. I think it was the Audrey thing, the resemblance you have to her, that caught his imagination, got him fired up.’

‘How sweet of Frankie,’ M murmured, touched to know that he had kept her in mind when talking to the French couturier; that he had been so loyal to her.

‘You see, he kept his word to you,’ Caresse asserted, touching
M’s arm, smiling at her. ‘That’s my Frankie, he’s always reliable and…’ Once more she stopped speaking, bit her lip, and said in a suddenly sad little whisper, ‘I mean he was.’

Catching the hint of despondency in Caresse’s voice, Luke exclaimed in a cheerful, somewhat bossy tone, ‘Now, listen up, the two of you! In about half an hour Kate Morrell is coming over with her assistant and the clothes. She runs the American end of Tremont’s business, and he relies on her tremendously. She’s bringing a number of pieces, including two coats, two day suits, both with skirts, two short cocktail dresses and two long evening gowns. Out of that lot we’ll choose six pieces for the shoot. So I think Marguerite had better start your makeup, M, and we’ll decide about your hair when the clothes are here…whether we want it up or in a ponytail.’

M nodded and jumped off the stool. ‘I’ll go back to hair and makeup straight away, Luke, and thank you for everything.’

‘I haven’t done anything, at least not yet,’ he announced with a light laugh and a cheeky wink.

‘Just one question, though,’ M continued, ignoring the leer he threw her. ‘You say Frankie showed Jean-Louis the pictures he took of me, but then what happened?’

‘I guess Tremont spent a lot of time thinking about the pictures, and after the accident he called me from Paris. He’d already left the Riviera. I was still in Nice, doing what I had to do,’ Luke responded. ‘Jean-Louis said he wanted to look at the photographs again, and would I come to see him in Paris. Bringing the pictures, of course. And so I did. And
voilà
! We’ve got a shoot because he wanted to use you. That’s about it.’

‘Thanks for explaining,’ M murmured, and smiled at Caresse. ‘You’re looking fabulous again,’ she told her. ‘I’m so glad you’re better.’

‘So am I,’ Caresse replied. ‘I was beginning to feel old, and depressed, wearing so much black. So this morning I thought,
it’s back to the red or the bright green or the electric blue, so here I am in red, and feeling more like my old self.’

‘It’s also the idea of the shoot,’ Luke interjected. ‘And me back here, and M getting her chance, and we’re going to do our damnedest to make Frankie proud of us. Right, Caresse?’

‘Right, Luke! He’s watching us, you know.’

‘I hope he is, honeybun, and giving me a guiding hand, long distance.’ Luke grinned at Caresse, and walked towards M. ‘Listen up, kiddo. Tell Marguerite to keep the eye makeup soft, and I don’t want you to have bushy beetle brows. There should be a suggestion of our Audrey, but not an exact replica. Okay?’

‘Okay, General.’ M grinned, and hurried out, heading for the service rooms at the back of the studio.

Luke turned to Caresse, and said, ‘I want to make her a star, Caresse. For her, for myself, for you and for Frankie. He was so determined to launch her, you know. Now it’s up to us to do it for him. She’s our legacy from him, in a sense, don’t you agree?’

Caresse nodded and brushed her hand across her eyes as she unexpectedly got tearful. ‘Frankie told me M was a natural, that he’d never seen anybody so relaxed in front of a camera, never seen a novice so professional. Skilled was the word he used. In fact, he kept saying to me that he thought she’d actually been trained to be a model, but was keeping it to herself. But whatever he said, I agree. M does seem to have a lot of self-confidence, a certain kind of composure.’

‘It’s breeding,’ Luke announced. ‘I don’t know where the hell she comes from, or who her family is, but she’s got class—and that you can’t acquire. You’re born with it.’

Caresse looked at him through narrowed eyes, and murmured, ‘Frankie said almost the same thing about M. I’ll be honest, he raved about her so much after he’d developed the film, I got jealous, and real mad at him. Frankie tried to explain it was only a professional thing; he said he admired her as a model,
as an object to photograph, and that he wasn’t interested in her as a woman—’

‘I am though,’ Luke cut in. ‘I wouldn’t mind being entangled with her one bit. Want to know something…I’d enjoy it.’

‘I think she’s seeing an actor,’ Caresse volunteered.

‘Who?’

‘Larry Vaughan.’

‘No kidding!’

‘That’s what she told me anyway.’

‘But he’s not just an actor, he’s a movie star, for God’s sake! Do you think it’s serious?’

Shrugging, making a face, Caresse said, ‘I don’t know, I don’t think so…’ She gave him a long hard stare. ‘So you’ve got the hots for M?’

‘Why not, she’s gorgeous.’

‘She’s a lot taller than you, Luke.’

He burst out laughing. ‘What does that matter when you’re flat on your back?’

‘Luke! You devil…I betcha there’s no chance with her. Not for you.’

‘We’ll see, won’t we? In the meantime, help me roll the Paris backdrops over to the middle of the studio, will you, sweetie pie? We’d better use the Champs-Élysées and the Eiffel Tower scenes to begin with. That’s what Tremont wants, well-known Paris backgrounds for these shots.’

The two of them went out onto the studio floor, and Caresse said, ‘Alex wants to help us with this shoot, and he’ll be here real soon. That’s okay with you, Luke, isn’t it?’

‘Sure it is, he’s a good kid, anyway, I guess this whole shebang is his now, right?’

‘Yes, sure is,’ Caresse responded, and decided not to add that Frankie had left her a 30 per cent interest in the studio complex. This was in his will, in a codicil he had added about three weeks before they had become engaged. She had been so touched when
his lawyer told her about it that she had cried herself to sleep for three nights, thinking about Frankie, the best man she’d ever known, and missing him like crazy.

Caresse was amazed a short while later when Kate Morrell arrived with her assistant Janet Gordon, the two women pushing a rack of clothes in garment bags. The thing that surprised her was the way the women handled the rack, especially since they were all dressed up in smart high-fashion outfits and teeteringly high Manolos. She couldn’t help wondering why they didn’t have an able-bodied young man to do this job.

Caresse hurried forward, introduced herself, as did the two women who worked for Jean-Louis Tremont in New York, and then she opened the double doors to the studio complex and led them over to the biggest studio, Frankie’s favourite, where Luke was to do the shoot. They followed her, pushing the rack of garment bags.

Luke and M paused when they reached the rack of clothes and, as he moved the hangers, sorted through them, he said, ‘Since your hair is currently in a ponytail, I think we should start with day clothes, don’t you?’

‘Absolutely. And I love this pale blue wool coat, and the grey flannel suit. Oh, and just look at this black wool dress, Luke, the cut is fantastic.’ Turning to him, she added, ‘I’ve always admired Jean-Louis’s clothes…I’m going to enjoy modelling them, I really am.’

‘That’s great, I’m glad you feel that way. Now come on over and meet the two women from the shop. Incidentally, Kate Morrell has a lot of power, a lot of influence with Jean-Louis,
but she’s very nice—tough but unassuming. You’ll like her, and just look at the excitement on her face, she can’t wait to meet you.’

Luke guided M towards the two women at the far end of the studio, who stood waiting for them. When they came to a stop, Luke said, ‘Kate, Janet, this is M.’

The three women shook hands, and Kate said in an enthusiastic tone, ‘I think you’re going to look wonderful in Jean-Louis’s clothes. I can’t wait to see you wearing them.’ Now addressing Luke, she continued, ‘I know you don’t like an audience when you shoot, but I would love it if we could see M modelling the clothes before we leave. Is that all right?’

‘‘Course it is, Kate. No problem at all, and I’m positive you’ll be thrilled. They look as if they’ve been designed just for her, don’t ya think?’

‘I do, yes. They’re from Jean-Louis’s fall and winter collection, which was shown in Paris this past July. Janet and I have brought along the shoes, gloves and accessories which go with the different pieces. Janet has the list.’

Her assistant immediately produced this, and handed it to Caresse, who had already unpacked the smaller items.

Walking over to the rack, signalling Caresse to come with her, Janet explained, ‘The pale blue pillbox hat goes with this pale blue winter coat, as do the dark beige shoes and matching leather gloves. Now, the pearls work with the black day dress and also the black lace cocktail dress. Every outfit has its own shoes, gloves, et cetera.’

‘I understand,’ Caresse said. Glancing down at the list in her hand, she nodded. ‘Everything’s very clear, Janet, and it’ll make my job easier.’

Luke suddenly announced, in a confident voice, ‘I don’t think Jean-Louis is going to be disappointed.’

‘Neither do I,’ Kate shot back, sounding enthusiastic, a huge smile on her face. Seating herself on one of the tall stools,
and beckoning to Janet to join her, she added, ‘Take your time, Luke, let’s work at your speed.’

‘We’ll start in a couple of minutes,’ Luke responded. He and M hurried over to the rack, and M took the blue wool coat; Caresse followed them to the back of the studio and into hair and makeup, bringing with her the matching pillbox hat, beige shoes and gloves.

When M walked out into the middle of the studio a few minutes later, and began to model the pale blue coat, Kate Morrell knew instantly that this young woman was the ultimate, a winner. An Audrey Hepburn lookalike, no two ways about that, but Kate realized that the makeup had been kept to a minimum, and she suddenly understood why. Luke wanted her to be M—to be herself, not a replica of anyone.

Kate was also struck by the way the pale blue coat looked on her, better than on other models somehow. It had a round neck with no collar, two sets of buttons at the top and dolman sleeves. An A-line coat with a grand flare at the back. And the pillbox hat was perfect. Jackie O, Kate thought: she wore hats like this.

Oh, yes, this girl has something truly special, Kate decided. Her facial beauty aside, what also caught Kate’s attention was M’s body. She was tall, especially in the three-inch heels, very slender, lithe and unusually elegant. She moved with fluidity, and there was a marvellous self-confidence about her as she walked and turned on the studio floor.

‘She’ll be at home on a catwalk,’ Kate murmured to her assistant.

‘She’ll dominate it,’ Janet whispered back. ‘She’s a natural, a real find.’

Kate nodded, and at this moment she knew deep within herself, and without a doubt, that this young woman who rather enigmatically called herself M, was going to be a big star.
The New Face of Jean-Louis Tremont,
Kate thought, seeing that headline
in her mind’s eye. It would be the banner for their next show. M was exactly what they had been looking for, and for the longest time. Just what they had needed, in fact. And then another thought came to her, a somewhat revolutionary thought. They would make M a star
before
she even modelled their spring/summer collection next year. She herself was going to make M a star
now.
What a great idea that was. If Luke’s pictures were as great as she believed they would be, they would use them immediately. What a boost for the current collection this would be. A new campaign, with M at the centre of it.

I’m inspired, Kate decided. Inspired by the mysterious M.

S
everal days later, Luke had cleared the main studio of everything. Gone were the tall stools, rolling shelves, rolling backdrops, folding and trestle tables. What he had wanted was a totally empty space, and once he had it he had brought in six life-sized blow-ups of M, mounted on hardboard.

Strategically placed to complement each other, the photographs were stunning, showed M at her most elegant and beautiful. Arranged in a semi-circle, they were all in black and white. Highlighting them most dramatically were three high-intensity lamps.

He studied the display for a long moment, finally nodded to himself, satisfied he had achieved the effect he had envisioned.A few seconds later, Kate Morrell came into the studio. As usual she was beautifully coiffed and made up, dressed in a chic Tremont suit. Following immediately behind her was the iconic French designer, tall, elegant and looking much younger than his sixty years despite his silver hair. In part, his youthfulness sprang from his lithe, slender body, his perfect tan and sparkling brown eyes.

It was Tremont himself who stopped dead in his tracks when
he saw the huge blow-ups confronting him. He moved closer, stared at them intently, mesmerized, thinking his clothes had never looked better. This girl was miraculous.

Swinging around, he went to Luke, grabbed hold of him and kissed him on each cheek in true Gallic style. In his slightly accented, perfect English he said, ‘Bravo, Luke, bravo! And my many congratulations.’ Gesturing to the set of blow-ups, he added, ‘
C’est magnifique, ah oui.
’

Luke beamed. ‘I’m pleased you like the display, Jean-Louis, and it seemed to me that the pictures somehow looked more dramatic in black and white, don’t ya think?’

‘Fantastic,
mon ami,
fantastic.’ He turned around as M walked into the studio and he went to greet her. Jean-Louis took her hand, bent over it, kissed it and gave her a warm smile. ‘It is nice to see you again. So many congratulations, the photographs are incredible.’

‘It’s the clothes really, monsieur,’ she replied, meaning this. ‘You and Luke are the true geniuses here, not me.’

‘Ah, flattery, mademoiselle, flattery,’ the Frenchman murmured, charmed by her, his dark eyes twinkling. He liked her a lot, had taken to her instantly when they had met a few days ago. He knew Kate was correct about her. She
would
be a star. And his muse, his inspiration. Her style and class were incomparable.

Kate was thrilled with the blow-ups. Taking hold of Luke’s arm she walked him forward, so they were standing directly in front of them. ‘What do you think about using these very same blow-ups in the Madison Avenue store? Mid-December, through into the New Year? They’d make a wonderful display.’

‘You and Jean-Louis know best, Kate, and I guess they would lead into the new collection—you’ll be showing it in late January in Paris, right?’

‘Absolutely, and by the way, we want you to photograph this new collection, Luke, but we’ll talk about that later. Right now I have to settle things with M.’

‘She’ll want you to use Blane’s, you know. She has a loyalty to them.’

‘No problem, none at all. But she told me yesterday that she’d like to have all of the details herself first, before we got in touch with Blane’s. Apparently she has a sister in London who owns a boutique, and she wanted to discuss our terms with her, before Blane’s got involved.’

Luke couldn’t help laughing. ‘That’s not surprising,’ he finally said, still chuckling.

Kate looked at him curiously. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because Caresse has always said that M is a tough cookie when it comes to business. Don’t misunderstand me, though—she adores M; but then everyone does.’

‘I can see that, and I understand why, she’s a genuinely very nice young woman. And I can’t say I blame her, wanting to have her older sister, a businesswoman, as a sounding board.’

A short while ago, Kate Morrell had taken Jean-Louis Tremont to Kennedy to catch the night flight to Paris. But before leaving the Farantino Studios, she had conferred with Luke and M for a few minutes. Something of a mover and shaker in the world of fashion, she was a decisive person. And once she had made up her mind about a project, she always forged ahead, undeterred, her heart set on accomplishing her ends. In this instance her aim was to make M famous
before
the January collections.

She explained this to M and Luke, and then told M, ‘I need you to come to the shop tomorrow, because we have to take all of your
exact
measurements. Jean-Louis has already designed part of the new spring/summer collection, the rest he is now going to build around you. And naturally the clothes must fit you
perfectly.
’

Addressing Luke she had gone on, ‘And I would like you to
be there at the same time, Luke, because Jean-Louis and I want you to photograph some of the prêt-à-porter line, on M, of course, because we do very well with our ready-to-wear collection. Together we will select the pieces.’

They had both agreed to be at the Madison Avenue store at two o’clock, and Kate had been as pleased as they were, obviously delighted they were so cooperative.

Now Luke stood alone in the studio. The overhead lights were out, and it was in darkness except for the three high-intensity spotlights focused on the six blow-ups of M. She had gone home and Caresse was cleaning up the kitchen, and he had wandered in here to turn off the spotlights, but had been momentarily captivated yet again.

Even though he said so himself, it had been an inspired idea to present the photographs like this. The blow-ups had blown Jean-Louis away, to coin a phrase. As if he had needed convincing, the designer had been enchanted by Frankie’s pictures of M when he had first seen them in Monte Carlo.

Luke sighed under his breath, thinking of Frankie, missing him, as he did every day. What a needless death it had been. A fatal crash on the Grande Corniche because Frankie, as usual, had more than likely been driving too fast; but there was no doubt in his mind that the driver of the other vehicle had been speeding as well. How often had he warned Frankie to slow down? He had never stopped worrying about Frankie’s racing driver mentality—Frankie loved whizzing along at high speed, regardless of anything else.

Moving forward, Luke turned off one of the spotlights and suddenly the whole mood of the studio was altered. Shadows were thrown across one of M’s blow-ups, gave her an eerie, ghostlike appearance. Luke shivered, goose flesh prickling his
neck, and for a reason he did not understand he had a sudden premonition of disaster looming. Startled at himself, he tried to push this irrational feeling aside, but found he could not.

Luke turned off the second light, and was about to kill the last spot, but he didn’t. Instead he gazed up at the ten-foot-tall M in the glamorous black evening gown, and thought how extraordinary she looked. She was one of the most photogenic women he had ever worked with, and he knew at this moment that she
would
be a big star in the fashion firmament: Kate Morrell would see to that. But this was a dangerous world, full of temptations of all kinds, from excessive praise, ego-pumping accolades and extensive press coverage, to sudden celebrity, partying and frequently soul-destroying drugs. Many a great model had taken a tumble.

He breathed deeply, blew out air, reminding himself that M was practical, businesslike, and down-to-earth. He was as positive as he could be that she would remain very much herself, and yet he still felt chilled to the bone, beset by troubling thoughts of the future…