Never Too Rich (60 page)

She nodded absently. “It makes me feel so violated,
Doc! Even after all these months. If he could get in twice—”

“
He won’t get in again!” Duncan
said forcefully.

She gave him a sickly smile. “I’m wondering if I
could stand it if he did.”

The waiter returned to the table, telephone in hand.
“There’s a call for Miss Billie Dawn,” he said.

Duncan looked at her questioningly.

“
It must be Olympia.” Billie
sighed. “She’s the only one I told where we were going.” She forced
a friendly smile for the waiter. “I’ll take it,” she said with a
nod, and watched him plug the phone into a tableside jack. “Yes?”
she said when she picked up the receiver. She frowned. “Hello?
Hello?”
She looked over at Duncan and they exchanged
looks.

“
Hello?” she said again, a little
louder. “Is anybody there?”

Then the whisper reached across the wires and
exploded in her ear.

“
I know you’re being watched, my
pretty, so I’ll have to be patient awhile longer! But they can’t
guard you forever, now, can they? In the meantime, just take good
care of that hair! Don’t you dare cut it! It’s mine!”

“
H-how did you know where to find
me?” she whispered.

“
I know where you are all the time!
Just remember, you can run and you can hide, but I’ll still be
there! I’ll still know!”

Then the connection was abruptly broken.

She let the receiver drop to the table. Her face was
ashen.

“
Billie?” Duncan was leaning across
the table. “Billie? What
is
it?”

“
It was
him!”
she whispered,
clutching his hands and digging her nails into his wrists.
“Him!
Oh, God, Doc! Doc, I
am
frightened! He’s
waiting until I don’t have police protection. Oh, Doc, what am I
going to do?”

Chapter 63

Edwina looked around her office. Rolling clothes
racks were pushed against all the walls, even in front of the
windows. There was hardly enough room for the crowd in there.

She sat in the middle of the couch, with Leo Flood
at her right, and R. L. Shacklebury, who had charmed his way into
seeing the entire Edwina G. collection for the very first time, on
her left. In the two facing tub chairs were Jack Petrone, the
director of the Carlisle/Petrone ad agency, and William Peters, her
press agent. Behind a folding screen angled across a corner, Billie
Dawn was changing clothes with the help of a dresser. And behind
Edwina, Liz was on hand, pen poised and notepad at the ready.

At a nod from Edwina, Liz punched the portable
cassette recorder and Basia’s updated bossa nova blared. All eyes
turned to the screen as Billie Dawn strutted out from behind it.
She was wearing black stockings with a pattern of tiny red dots,
black shoes, and a black micro dress affixed with big wet-looking
red hearts. For accessories she wore red gloves and red
heart-shaped plastic earrings. In one hand she held a glittery red
cardboard cutout made to look like a heart-shaped lollipop.
Expertly negotiating her way between the couch and chairs, she
twirled around twice to show off the outfit from all sides, and
then started back toward the screen.

“
Shut off the music,” Edwina
abruptly called out.

Liz switched off the recorder and Billie Dawn
stopped strutting. She stood there awaiting further
instructions.

“
What’s the matter?” Jack Petrone
asked.

“
The clothes are terrific, even if
I say so myself,” Edwina said, “and Billie Dawn’s a dynamite model.
Anything looks good on her. She could be wearing toilet paper and
women would run out and buy it to wear. The same goes for the other
models we’ve got lined up.”

“
But?” Jack sighed.

“
But like Billie Dawn, they’re all
high-fashion girls,” she said. “Don’t you see? They’d look just as
at home in Givenchy or de Riscal as they would in Edwina
G.”

“
Yes, they would.” Jack’s frown
deepened. “But I’m still lost.”

“
The point I’m making is this. My
clothes cross over traditional age barriers. They could just as
easily be worn by New Wave fourteen-year-olds as by their with-it
mothers.”

“
That’s right,” he agreed, nodding.
“That’s what I’ve always liked about them.”

She leaned toward him. “So why,” she inquired
quietly, “aren’t we using any models that today’s kids can identify
with? Granted, Billie Dawn appeals to a great number of women, but
she sure as hell won’t appeal to East Village dropouts.”

“
East Village dropouts?” Leo Flood
coughed. “Since when do they buy expensive clothes?”

“
Maybe
they
don’t,” Edwina
explained shrewdly, “but their well-to-do middle-class counterparts
sure do. Remember all those kids who were emulating Madonna with
bustiers and torn lace a while back?”

“
Yes?” Leo said
cautiously.

“
Well, by leaving them out, we’re
bypassing an entire segment of today’s spend-happy consumers. Like
it or not, this is the video generation, guys. God only knows where
all the money’s coming from, but do you have any
idea
of the
sheer spending power of today’s teens? Look what they did for
Reebok. Oh, and another thing. Children who were yea-high when MTV
first made its debut? Well, guess what? They are now coming of age
as adults, and I don’t have to tell you what that means.
Spending
adults! With cash and credit cards. Talk about
mastering the possibilities—you ain’t seen nothin’ yet! Anyway,
those are things to bear in mind, especially if we want Edwina G.
to appeal to the broadest possible spectrum of the
population.”

Leo said, “Now, why didn’t I think of that?”

“
Because your orbit is confined to
the Upper East Side and Wall Street,” Edwina said. “Not that what
I’m proposing is earth-shattering, by any means. It’s simply a
matter of being in tune with what’s happening on the
street.”

Jack was nodding. “You know, Leo,” he said with
barely subdued excitement, “maybe . . . just maybe Eds is onto
something big. Big as in b-i-g big. And the best thing is, at least
as far as Edwina G. is concerned, this does
away
with
traditional demographics. Hot damn!” he whispered in awe, and
stared at Edwina with amazement as the full scope of it all sank
in. “When you consider the implications, the financial returns
could be staggering.”

“
And I firmly believe they will
be,” Edwina said, a nonchalant wave of her hand indicating that
she’d long ago figured that out and that her mind was already
leap-frogging ahead. “But the person we need in order to reach
those girls out there,” she continued, “has got to be very young
and ‘with it’ herself. And when I say ‘with it,’ I mean
with
it!
Totally authentic. Today’s kids are much too smart to fall
for somebody who’s just playing the part. We need someone who’s got
the latest trendy look down pat and
loves
it. You know. Wild
and New Wavy and sassy enough to offset Billie Dawn’s natural
elegance.”

Despite herself, her voice had grown more and more
animated, and now she jumped up and started pacing excitedly.

“
Don’t you see, guys? We’ll be able
to hit everyone between the ages of
fourteen and forty!
Can’t you practically hear the cash registers jingling already? I
sure can. And,” she added with a smug smile, “the beauty of it is
that we can reach them
all
with only
one
collection!
Just think of what that means!” She paused and looked around.
“Well? What do you all think? Come on, speak up! Talk to me! It’s
input time.”

“
Wild and New Wavy,” Leo murmured,
deep in thought. “Sassy.” He tapped his lips with a forefinger.
Then he smiled up at her. “I like it!”

“
You should,” Edwina said quietly.
“It’ll broaden our market base to what would normally require three
entirely different collections.”

Leo turned and looked at Liz. “Get on the horn,” he
said at once, “and call Olympia, Ford, and all the other agencies
to see if they’ve got anyone who’s wild and New Wavy.”

“
Yes,
sir!
ⁿ
said Liz tartly, making no bones about Edwina—not
him—being her boss. But she headed for the door.

“
Wait, Liz!” Edwina commanded, then
turned her attention back to her captive audience. She placed her
hands on her hips. “Gentlemen, I believe I’ve already found our
Wild Thing, so there’s no need to look any further.”

“
Who is she?” Bill Peters, ever the
hustling press agent, asked with growing interest. “Is she
well-known already? Or do we have to give her the full buildup
treatment?”

“
Oh, I’d say she definitely needs
to be built up,” Edwina said vaguely, remaining standing. “And as
for
who
she is, you’ll see in a moment. Suffice it to say
she’s been right under our noses all along.” She paused and smiled
mysteriously. “And now, gentlemen, let me produce the rabbit out of
my hat.”

The seated men watched as she lifted her telephone
receiver and punched the extension for reception. “Val, did my
visitor arrive yet? . . . Good. Send her straight to my office.”
She hung up and was gratified to see that the men’s eyes had all
shifted to the closed door. She had piqued their interest, she
knew, or they wouldn’t be waiting with such anticipation. So much
the better. She was absolutely certain her Wild Thing wouldn’t
disappoint.

“
She’ll be here momentarily,” she
said unnecessarily.

The words were barely out of her mouth before there
were brisk raps on wood.

“
Come in,” Edwina called out, and
the door flew open and a breathless Hallelujah burst into the
room.

“
Ma! Like, is everything all right?
I mean, I get home from school and Ruby tells me to head straight
down to your of—” Hallelujah’s excited chatter abruptly stopped
when she saw everyone gathered there, eyeing her with the same
close scrutiny a group of anthropologists might give a newly
discovered species. “Oops,” she said, ducking her head in
embarrassment.

Everyone was transfixed, as though seeing her—really
seeing her— for the first time. She was wearing a Keith Haring
T-shirt, a ragged-hemmed microskirt, tiger-print tights, and a
sleeveless cutoff version of her beloved motorcycle jacket. Her
tricolor punk hair was standing up in spikes and her ears and
throat and wrists and hands were a rhinestone manufacturer’s
dream.

“
Sorry,” she said. “Like, I didn’t
mean to interrupt you all. Carry on, why don’tcha? I’ll just wait
outside, Ma. See ya later!” And with a wave of her hand, Hallelujah
popped a giant pink bubble of gum, turned on her heel, and rushed
back out as quickly as she had rushed in.

“
Hal!” Edwina called after her.
“Not so fast. Come back in here, please.”

Hallelujah’s head popped hesitantly around the
doorframe. “You’re sure? I don’t mind waiting, y’know?”

“
I’m sure,” Edwina said with a Mona
Lisa smile, a smile Hallelujah had seen only on the very best and
very worst of occasions.

“
Well, I’ll be . . .” Jack Petrone
muttered to himself under his breath. “It’s
her!”
His mutter
rose to excited incredulity. “It’s really her! Talk about manna
from heaven!”

“
For crying out loud, Eds,” Leo
snapped. “Here you were acting as though you’d come up with the
newest thing since laser technology, and you pop your
daughter
on us!”

“
Hal
is
the newest thing
since laser technology, Leo. Trust me. Believe in me. Hal here is
the embodiment—the very spiritual pulse, if you will—of today’s
fashion-conscious teens.”

“
Hey! Ma, what’s this all about?”
Hallelujah demanded with narrowed eyes and growing concern. Her
mother’s sudden accolades were definite cause for alarm. Perhaps
the old girl was overworked. No, that couldn’t be it, Hallelujah
decided. Something fishy was definitely up. She could smell it as
clearly as a three-day-old cod lying out in the sun.

“
Mr. Flood was just expressing his
. . . appreciation of your . . . style,” Edwina told her, and said
severely to Leo, “Weren’t you, Leo?”

“
Of course he was!” Jack Petrone
jumped up, strode over to the door, and, taking Hallelujah by the
arm, pulled her into the center of the room. Grasping her by the
forearms, he asked, “How’d you like to do some
modeling?”

Hallelujah’s face lit up like the marquee at Radio
City. “Wow! Me? Are you serious? Like you mean really
really
model?”

“
For print ads and a live fashion
show. Yes.”

She looked at him with awestruck delight and then
turned to her mother.

“
You heard the man.” Edwina smiled
and smiled. “You’d be modeling just like Billie Dawn
here.”

“
Far-out!” Then Hallelujah’s eyes
narrowed even further with sudden suspicion. “What do I have to do?
Cut my hair?”

“
Heaven forbid, child! Don’t change
a thing. If you do, we’ll be forced to find somebody
else.”

Hallelujah couldn’t believe her ears. “Wow! You
would?”

“
We would.” Jack nodded definitely.
“You’re absolutely perfect just the way you are!”

“
Awesome!” Hallelujah squealed.
“Brilliant! Ma? Didya get a load of
that?
I like love this
guy!”