The Claiming of Sadie Graves (3 page)

Ugh! Sadie.
Did you really think that? Get a grip on yourself.  Focus!

And so, I do. “Good afternoon. I’m Sadie Graves.
” I acknowledge my colleague. “This is Lottie Perkins. We’re both Anna’s assistants, but I’ll be supporting you in your fitting today, Miss Emery. Ms. Rosenstein will be along in just a moment. Will you please follow me to the fitting area?”

“Oh, hullo”, Violet says without emotion. “This is Lucas Sutton. He’ll be approving my outfit today.”

“Okay, great”, I manage to get out.
Since when does your boyfriend approve your outfits,
I think uncharitably.
Doesn’t your agent just tell you what to wear?
Both of them begin to follow me to the back of the building, where most of the couture is created and fitted on live models.

On the way back, I lead them past row after row of seductive lingerie in every color of the rainbow.
Anna gave my designs their own area of the atelier, after the first order sold out completely in two weeks. Lucas says something low under his breath to Violet that I can’t hear.
That’s too bad, because I’m listening for all I’m worth.
We keep moving forward, though, intent on reaching Anna’s inner sanctum. 

Lottie fades back
toward the staff offices, and I wave a hand at her, letting her know it’s okay – I’ve got this. I hear the couple behind me sniggering slightly. “Did you have a question?” I ask, turning around to look at Violet Emery. “No, I was just laughing because Lucas has a dog named Sadie”, she says with a saccharin smile. “I was thinking…how fitting…” she trails off, smirking at her own joke.

I whip my head forward without responding,
flushing bright red. Of course; of course. I would do anything to be able to control my body language right now, but turning crimson is one of my signature moves. I’m mortified. The most beautiful man and woman in America are comparing me to a dog. Ugh. I want to crawl under a piece of furniture. I know I’m no beauty queen, but it hurts to be made fun of by someone you were just thinking you’d like to impress. I immediately try to disconnect my feelings; hoping tears don’t spring to my eyes and embarrass me any more than I already am.

I continue walking straight ahead and keep my head held high. Lucas Sutton clears his throat uncomfortably.
Shit
. I hope I don’t look too flustered when Anna sweeps in – which she does right when we enter the back of the house. She takes one look at my face, and hers becomes super-composed.

She
’s worked with me long enough, and we’re close enough; she knows I’m rattled, and she steps in, socially adept as ever, to pick up my slack. While she’s meeting Violet and her escort, I step over to the side to get a wrist pincushion and a tape measure, and drape it around my neck. I retrieve the dress to be used in the shoot, and look it over with an appraising eye. It’s going to be a slam-dunk, even if this girl is a complete bitch. And I get it now; sure I do. She’s out to make every other woman look like crap in front of her man, even a woman as inferior as me. Ha
! Me; miss nobody fashion assistant.
I feel a headache coming on, but I roll my shoulders in an attempt to move on, and take her the dress. I show her to the dressing room, and tell her where to stand when she’s changed. I approach the dais and mirror, drop to my knees, and prepare to adjust Violet’s hem when she comes out.

“You must be Bain Sutton’s son; you look a lot like him” Anna says directly to Lucas, her eyes appraising. She is tempted to put on her cheaters, I know, which hang from a beaded chain around her neck. But she doesn’t.

“Why yes, I am. Do you know my father well?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. “No, but we’ve met socially several times. I’m impressed by the luxury brands your family purveys, and by the auction house. It’s nice to meet you. Do you work for Sutton
Shield, as well?”

“I do. I’m overseeing all the art auctions now, but we’ve gotten into luxury property
these last few years and that’s certainly kept us busy in New York and Paris. Have you ever been repped by our company, Anna?”

“No”, she says kindly, but I can tell there’s
a bit of hope in her voice. “I haven’t. Maybe after this shoot is over, we could meet to discuss it.” “I’d like that” he replies. “I’m especially interested in your lingerie line. It’s magnificent.”  Anna looks pleased, and I wonder idly what his company could do for her that she can’t do for herself. “If you think it’s good, I should tell you – the designs are all Sadie’s.” Anna’s gaze sweeps toward me, on my knees. “She’s spent an amazing amount of time on the fit, fabric and underpinnings.”

“Do you always allow your staff to design for you
?” Lucas asks, with something close to amusement on his face. “No”, Anna says honestly. “But if I don’t listen to my staff or my models, I lose whatever credibility I’ve earned. Sadie’s instincts about the lingerie line were spot-on. I’m learning as I evolve as an artist that the voices of my young contacts are the truest.”

I wish I could hug her.
Hard. But I look at the floor instead. 

Anna leaves the room to talk to Violet over the dressing-room curtain, and I’m lef
t alone for a moment with Lucas. I keep my eyes on the floorboards, not wanting to make eye contact. He makes a sound in his throat, and says softly, “I apologize for Violet. She’s a complete pill sometimes.” I look up at him, coloring again, and wish the floor would swallow me up. He looks at me without any recognizable expression on his face. I reply, softly. “You would know Miss Emery’s shortcomings better than I. Hopefully, you’ll be able to remember my name when you need something fetched
.”

His eyes open wide. He looks amused
, again.

Oh great, Sadie.
You couldn’t just accept the apology
? I know Anna would be disappointed in my response, and I feel a little sheepish.  I swallow and look down, and he says nothing else until Violet and Anna come back in. She’s wearing Anna’s sexiest gown – an amethyst halter with a plunging neckline that goes almost to her navel. The skirt is coated in feathers, and seems to float around her slim hips and long legs. She has on five-inch Christian Leboutins, and the hem is still a bit too long. She comes to stand by me on the raised platform, and I pin the hem all around to perfection. There’s a small gap at her waist that also needs to be tightened, and I mark that for alteration, as well. The shoulders and bust are perfect, and require no further adjustment.

She steps back to admire herself in the mirror, and her eyes go to Lucas’ when she does. He says nothing, and she smiles a seductive little smile at him, batting her eyelashes. She
pronounces Anna a genius; twirls around once and heads back to the dressing room to remove the dress. Anna follows her, preparing to bag the gown and seal it for transport. All this has taken no more than twelve minutes, but it feels like forever to me.

I rise from my place on the floor and take the pincushion and tape measure back to their storage compartments. I feel a warm presence behind me, and turn around to be close enough to touch Lucas Sutton’s chest without reaching. He’s
literally inches from me, crossing the room without making a sound.

“What do you do when you’re not working, beautiful Sadie?” he whispers
, his eyes searching mine. The track all over my face – eyes, nose, and finally my lips. They linger there.

He reaches out to touch me, o
ne long finger trailing down my cheek and over my lips. He actually pulls my lower lip down slightly, and leaves his finger there, the wet skin of my inner lip exposed. Everything south of my navel clenches, and I draw in a sharp breath. I almost trip over myself stepping backward
. God. He’s beautiful.
He’s also making fun of me
; this will be a good story to tell Violet on the limo ride back to their place.
I tense up immediately. I take one more step backward. I probably look like an idiot.

“
All I
do
is work here, Mr. Sutton. I’m sure you and Violet are busy and have lots of other things to take care of this afternoon. I’ll be certain her alterations are completed by Monday afternoon, well before the shoot. We’ll have the dress delivered to the photographer’s desired location, and pick it up afterward. I think that about covers everything for the House of Rosenstein. If you’ll excuse me, I have a phone call to make.”  

He doesn’t meet my eyes.
His face registers nothing, not even the possibility of what a great joke this will be later. Odd. He nods his head, dismissing me.

I can’t believe he just touched me. Dear Lord.
Am I really that unattractive, that he would play a trick like that? He probably thought I would jump at the chance to kiss him, just to be able to say I had. What a prick!

My face colors again. I
’d pay good money to talk to my best friend Emma right now. She knows
exactly
what to say or do when someone is snide, so you come out on top. Somehow, I missed out on that ability, and I’m forever wishing I had it. This reminds me; I’m seeing Emma later this week, but I probably won’t get to tell her about this. We’ll be in mixed company.

I
march out of the couture salon and back to my office. As I approach, one of the sales clerks calls my name. “Sadie! Salvatore Fekkai is on line two. He says it’s important, and he wants to talk to you now, if possible!” I know her voice carries back to the deeper recesses of the space, and I’m glad to be seen as important in front of our two visitors. I step into my office and leave the door open, trying to seem more essential than I actually am.
I’m ridiculous, right?

“Salvatore. I am
so
glad to hear from you” I say with familiarity. He laughs on the other end of the line. “Sadie! What’s happening, baby?” he laughs, then quiets when I explain my concern. “This fabric issue is unexpected, and I need to figure out what to do next. Our line depends on the first two deliveries of ready-to-wear. I know you’ve seen the ads in Women’s Wear Daily. Do you think you have something similar, that we can use instead? I can’t miss the deadline on this shipment, not by even a day. My customers will kill me.” 

“Hmm; I think
I do. It’s close in coloration and pattern to what you bought overseas. Sadie baby, you’re killing
me
. I sell fabric - that’s what I do. Why are you buying this Chinese shit? It’s not better than what I have, and every one of my clients has dealt with these customs problems. I want you to consider buying all of your fabric from me. You know I’ll give you the best price, and you can claim you’re keeping Americans at work. Hear me out? Come by in twenty minutes and look at what I have?”

I agree. “Sal, you know I believe in what you’re selling. I think Anna thought she’d get a little margin on these p
ieces if she could save money on suiting. But, hey – you can’t save money on something you can’t get through customs. Right? Okay. Give me thirty minutes, not twenty, and I’ll be at your office. And hey…I owe you.”

I grab my purse, throw my wrap over my arm, and head to tell Anna where I’m going. She’s just seeing Lucas and Violet to the front door of the atelier.
He has a small package in his hand; he must have bought Violet a piece of lingerie on their way out. I wonder idly which piece caught his fancy. Trying to resurrect my professionalism, I nod to them; indicating as much respect for them as I can muster. In truth, I hope I never see either of them again. But, with Violet’s popularity, I doubt that. I whisper to Anna that I’m off to inspect some suiting fabric, and she lights up with satisfaction. “Good work, Sadie. Call me when you know more. I’ll have my cell with me.”

“Yes, Anna”, I whisper, and I head back to the rear of the building to take the back door exit.

“Fingers of Love”

Crowded House,
Together Alone

In minutes, I’m at Salvatore’s warehouse and he’s giving me a sweet bear hug in the dingy front office. 

I loved Sal on sight on my very first day at design school. He’s a big guy, like a teddy bear. His family has been in the fabric business for over fifty years, and he’s their great hope; a smart, college educated man to take over their business and lead it through the changes presented by the new global economy. And they’ve dealt with changes galore.

Between overseas competition and factory closings, Sal is working overtime to keep the business relevant. It’s times like these that I realize what a valuable resource he is, not just for fabric but as a friend. He’s easy, funny and loving. Sal’s wife Natalia
runs the front office, and she rises to hug me, too. Their baby Rocco is eight months old, chubby and precious. He’s imprisoned in a pack-n-play in the office, behind Natalia’s desk. I laugh at his sweet baby fat and loopy smile. Sal drags me into the warehouse, to show me the suiting material he mentioned.

“Sal”, I say, my voice hushed and full of guilt, “this material
smokes
what we ordered from overseas.” I feel sick. “The hand and feel of it is far superior. What’s the bottom line price per yard?” He tells me, and I order everything he has in stock. I pull out one of Anna’s business checks, intending to pay him in full for the whole lot. Becoming a “signer” was a huge deal for me. I know she trusts me, and that means everything.