First Sight (5 page)

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” she said practically, only mildly shocked at how blatant he was about his feelings. “I think you’ll get your wish. Starting in about half an hour, I’m going to be working my ass off.” Work was work, even in Paris.

“Nice ass. I like it,” he said matter-of-factly, missing her.

“Thank you. Yours is nice too.” And in better shape than hers, although she didn’t say it. There was no need to point that out. Why remind him? He was only seven years younger than she, but spent hours every day toning his body.

“Well, get yours home soon before I forget what it looks like.” He was in better spirits with her than he’d been in in days, and was obviously beginning to forgive her. He was clearly anxious to see her when she got back, and she was relieved. She had no desire to end the relationship with him yet. Not until after the holidays at least.

“I’ll send you a snapshot,” she teased. “I’ll have Jade take it after my next meeting.” He laughed at her answer. She had a quick wit, and she was smart, he liked all of that about her. In fact, sometimes he liked her a lot more than he intended. He was just pissed about the trip. But not pissed enough to end the relationship. He had opted to pout instead. He was hoping she’d take him on the next one.

“Bring me back something from Paris,” he said bluntly, almost like a child to a parent.

“Like what?” she asked, surprised. She had been generous with him so far, and given him a lot of clothes from her most expensive men’s line. She knew he needed them, and it didn’t cost her anything to do it. And she’d bought him a nice watch on his birthday. He was grateful, and not in the least embarrassed by the gifts.

“The Eiffel Tower maybe. I don’t know. Surprise me.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with.” It was like talking to a child sometimes. In his mind, she should spoil him. There was no pretense of equality in the relationship, and never had been, emotionally, intellectually, or financially. Equality was not the nature of relationships like the one she had with Zack. Their difference in age and economic stability skewed everything. She felt like his Sugar Mommy much of the time, which felt awkward to her, if not to him. For her, equality in relationships was a thing of the past, and she firmly believed not likely to ever happen again. It was the price she paid for success and age. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“I’m glad you did. Maybe I’ll get up and go to the gym.”

“Have a nice day. I’ll call you soon. Maybe over the weekend,” she promised. “It’s going to be pretty nuts here for the next few days.” Just as it had been in New York, London, and Milan. It never even occurred to him to ask her how she was, or if she was tired. He knew she could take care of herself, and assumed she was all right.

“See ya,” he said, and hung up. She sat staring at the phone for a long minute, as Jade walked back into the room.

“How’s the prince?” Jade asked, as she glanced at Timmie.

“Okay, I guess. Still annoyed that I didn’t bring him, but better now. He seems to be getting over it, although he wished me a lousy time without him.” Timmie found it funny.

Jade didn’t. “That sounds about right,” Jade said sourly, putting a stack of papers on the desk for Timmie to sign. A flood of new faxes had just come in, which required her immediate attention.

Timmie looked up at Jade strangely, feeling numb, not even disappointed by her conversation with Zack. For all his blatant lack of sensitivity, he was familiar to her by now, and a comfortable presence in her life at times. She accepted him for who and what he was. The man she was sleeping with and not the man she was passionately in love with. Sometimes, Timmie knew, you couldn’t have it all. You had to compromise. And she had, rather than be alone. Although his wishing her a lousy time without him had been a bit beyond the pale. “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother,” Timmie sighed, as they chatted.

“You know why you bother, and so do I,” Jade said honestly. She always called things as she saw them. Timmie loved that about her. “Because being alone is lousy, and lonely,” Jade went on. “So you settle for what you can get. And that’s what it looks like. It looks like Zack. But the alternative, of no one, isn’t so great either. It’s not a lot of fun. And doing what I did, dating a married man, is worse. At least you won’t get your heart broken. All he’ll do in the end is piss you off, not break your heart.”

“Not always,” Timmie said honestly. “Sometimes they take a piece of you with them. Like your self-respect and self-esteem for putting up with the bullshit. After a while, it gets to you.”

“So does a married man who won’t leave his wife. Hell, Timmie, what other choice do we have? All the good ones are married.” It was a mantra Timmie had heard before. Hers was that all men, the good ones at least, were terrified of her success.

“They can’t all be married,” Timmie said staunchly.

“Really? When was the last time you met a decent, respectable guy worth having who wasn’t?”

“I don’t know,” Timmie said with a sigh, picking a chocolate off the platter. “I don’t pay that much attention. I don’t think I want a real relationship anymore. Why do I need one at my age? But I’m not sure I want the Zacks anymore either. I always wind up feeling like their mother, and as though they expect me to meet their every need. That’s not my job.”

“Try telling them that,” Jade said tartly. “Maybe we should both go into the convent,” Jade said, smiling at her.

“Not unless I get to redesign the habits. They’ve gotten seriously ugly,” Timmie said pensively as though she meant it, and they both laughed. “I don’t know what the answer is. At your age, you’ll find the right guy one of these days. You just have to keep looking. At my age, I don’t think I care anymore. In fact, I know I don’t. The last thing I want now is to get married … so that leaves the Zacks … or no one. Noble solitude. I guess I’m ready for another dose of that sometime soon. I think this is on its last legs. It’s starting to depress me. I’m tired of playing Lady Bountiful to bratty, immature male models and actors, or being bitched at when I don’t want to. Where the hell do these guys get their sense of entitlement? I wish I had as much self-confidence as they do. Narcissists are just too goddamned much work,” Timmie said with a shrug. Although he had been relatively pleasant, the call to Zack had done nothing to cheer her, and after three weeks on the road, she was exhausted, which dampened her spirits. She wasn’t sure if she was looking forward to seeing him when she got home, or not.

“Maybe you’ll meet someone here in Paris,” Jade said hopefully, and meant it.

“Are you kidding? Who are we talking about here? The nineteen-year-old male models from the Czech Republic, or the angry French journalists from the left-wing press, or the other designers, who are either women or gay or both? I’m not looking for anyone. And anyone I’d meet here would be geographically undesirable anyway. The last thing I need is a guy halfway around the world, in Paris. But thanks for the suggestion,” Timmie said, popping another chocolate in her mouth. Her metabolism allowed her indulgences few women could get away with.

“I think I’m going to try computer dating when we go back. I know four people who’ve gotten married this year to men they met on the Internet,” Jade said, looking as though she meant it.

“Just be careful. I think that sounds scary,” Timmie said, as she got up and started brushing her hair. Her first interviewer was due to arrive within minutes. The Paris rat race was about to begin.

“How much worse could it get?” Jade asked rhetorically. “I’ve had married, you’ve had assholes. The worst that could happen is that I meet a nice ax murderer, get married, and have babies. At thirty-eight, I can’t afford to be too picky.”

“At thirty-eight, you can afford to be as picky as you want. Don’t settle, Jade,” Timmie said seriously.

But she also knew that even Jade was older than a lot of men wanted. Men of all ages seemed to want twenty-two-year-olds. Grown-up women, with brains, had been becoming obsolete for years. And Timmie knew that she herself was no longer even in the running, for a variety of reasons, age, income, success, celebrity to a certain degree since her name was a household word all over the world, which didn’t help either. All it drew to her were guys like Zack, or worse. She was still pondering it when Jade came back in to tell her that her first interviewer was waiting downstairs in the lobby. There was a wonderful area where they served tea and fabulous pastries. She liked meeting members of the press there, or in the bar. Timmie sighed when she told her. She looked beautiful, but her assistant could see how tired she was.

“Shall I have him come up?” Jade asked.

“I guess so,” Timmie said quietly. She wasn’t in the mood. All she wanted was to go for a long, quiet walk through Paris. She had three days of hard work ahead of her, and then, over the weekend at least, she could do whatever she wanted. She thought of Zack’s comment while she waited for the interviewer to come to her suite.
“I hope you have a lousy time without me in Paris.”
She’d been with men like him for too long. His saying that to her didn’t even shock her anymore. She was used to men now who were handsome, and fun to play with, but it never occurred to them to take care of her and comfort her, or even rub her shoulders when she was tired. She carried the full weight of her life and responsibilities on her own. It was a burden she felt acutely at times, and she did now.

She stood up with a smile when the interviewer walked in. He was a tall, thin, balding, angry-looking man who was about to challenge her about the meaning of fashion. And suddenly, she didn’t care about that either, as she pretended to greet him warmly, and smiled as she shook his hand, invited him to sit down, offered him tea or coffee, and pointed invitingly to the platter of chocolates.

“This is quite a hotel you stay in,” he said after accepting her offer of coffee, and devouring four chocolates. “Does it embarrass you to live like this, and spend this kind of money, all earned from exploiting people and their whims about fashion?” he asked in a single breath between chocolates, as Timmie smiled kindly at him, and wondered what the hell to answer. It was going to be a long afternoon, she realized, as she looked at him, and knew that Zack’s wish was about to come true. She was having a lousy time without him. But then again, had he been there, she might have had a lousy time with him too, depending on his mood. Nothing in life was sure.

Chapter 2

Both of Timmie’s interviews on Wednesday afternoon were predictably tiresome. She had been doing interviews just like them for twenty-three years. She rarely enjoyed the publicity aspects of her work. What she loved was the designing, and coming up with fresh ideas for new collections several times a year. It had been even more fun since she had added all the additional lines to her company. The possibilities were infinite.

Presenting the collections at the ready to wear shows in New York and Europe was an important aspect of her work. It was particularly exciting for her since she was the only American designer to show her work in both American and European venues, which made the ready to wear shows that much more challenging for her. She took the ready to wear shows seriously twice a year, and it was crucial to her that their runway shows went off impeccably. She was a perfectionist about every detail. It nearly gave her an ulcer fitting the models to the clothes, seeing that every possible element was the right one, every accessory the perfect choice, and then watching everything intently in rehearsal. Timmie was normally good-natured and even-tempered, but it drove her insane if anything went wrong, or the models didn’t look right when they were on the runway, if their hair was wrong, if they moved wrong, or some piece of an outfit got misplaced.

By Friday afternoon all the models had been fitted in the outfits they were to wear. The rehearsal was set for Monday, and after her last textile meeting on Friday afternoon, Timmie realized she’d had a stomachache all week. She had hardly eaten, and the less she ate, the worse she felt. Jade asked her if she was all right, before she and David left on Friday evening to catch the Eurostar to London. They had decided to spend the weekend there, and David had agreed to give up his weekend in Prague to accompany Jade. They were going to three parties, and he was determined to visit the Tate.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jade inquired again just before she took off. She looked concerned. She thought Timmie looked unusually pale, and she had seemed nervous and anxious all week. It wasn’t surprising before the ready to wear shows. Timmie was always stressed before the runway shows, but this time she seemed more jangled, and Jade thought she didn’t look well. She looked exhausted, and somewhat unnerved.

“Actually, I feel like shit,” Timmie said with a grin. “I think I’m just tired. I wish Paris were at the beginning of Hell Month, instead of the end. By the time we get here for the ready to wear shows, I’m always beat. I think I wore myself out in Milan.” Although it had been a good show there too, and she’d been pleased. She hoped the one in Paris would be as good. She had selected the best models in Paris, and so far the clothes had looked great on all of them.

“Take it easy this weekend,” Jade said, looking worried, as David came to pick her up in Timmie’s room. Their rooms were just across the hall from hers. “You don’t need to do anything. It’s all done.” She knew Timmie was thrilled with the fabrics she had ordered for the following year. She had gotten everything she’d wanted, and they were having several fabrics woven especially for them. The clothes she would design using them would be totally unique. “Are you going to any of the parties here?”

“I should probably make an appearance at a few of them.” A lot of the design houses gave parties in Paris, but Timmie O was not going to this year, which was something of a relief, and it was also why Jade and David were able to get away to London. Otherwise, they would have been stuck, working in Paris over the weekend. They also knew they would have to make up for not entertaining this time, by giving some kind of bash when they came back for the next ready to wear shows in February. But at least this time they were off the hook. “Maybe I’m coming down with the flu,” Timmie said with a thoughtful look. “I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.” She had been thinking about ordering room service that night, instead of going to one of her favorite bistros. She wasn’t in the mood, and a quiet night in her room was suddenly a lot more appealing. She was planning to order soup, and go straight to bed.