Chapter 5
The next morning, after their fabulous day sailing on Patrick’s extraordinary boat,
Austin Wylie appeared at the house, driving a black Ferrari. He stepped out of the
car wearing white leather pants, a black shirt open to the waist, and black alligator
cowboy boots, and put a black Stetson on his head as he got out.
“Who on earth is that, Mom?” Eloise asked Eugenia, watching from the kitchen
window, and then she recognized him. “Oh my God, it’s the Texan from Daphne’s dinner
party, the guy with the Russian wife. What’s he doing here?” He looked out of place but
supremely confident as he walked up the front steps onto the porch and rang the bell.
“I have a meeting with him,” was all Eugenia said as she grabbed her phone from the
kitchen table and hurried to the front door, while the others continued eating breakfast
and paid no attention.
Eugenia greeted Austin Wylie and invited him into the smaller living room. She
noticed that he was wearing a different diamond chain around his neck and a pavé
diamond belt buckle, which she assumed correctly was real, and when he took off his
Stetson, he had a shaved head. It somehow looked right with the rest of his image. He
looked like the caricature of a man with a multibillion-dollar fortune who was proud of
it and wanted everyone to know. He was sending a very clear message.
“Thank you for meeting with me this morning, Eugenie,” he said politely, and she
didn’t correct him on her name. She could guess that his wife had given him the name
that was on the label of her haute couture gowns, a modification of her actual name, and
slightly different from her eponymous ready-to-wear line, Eugenia Ward.
“I was interested to hear what you’re thinking,” she said calmly, with a businesslike
smile, remembering Patrick’s warnings about him the day before.
“I’ve done a little research,” he said with steely eyes and a cold smile, and his
heavy Texas accent. “It looks like you’ve been having some trouble in the pandemic.”
“That’s true.” She didn’t attempt to deny it, and remained unruffled by his comment.
“No one has been going to big black-tie parties and wearing evening gowns for the past
eighteen months, but hopefully we’ll get back to that soon.”
“What have you done about it?” he asked directly.
“At first, I just waited it out, assuming it would be over quickly, but I’m showing a
new line of casual daywear at Fashion Week in New York next month. I haven’t been
out of jeans and sweatshirts myself in eighteen months.” She smiled at him. “We’ll be
doing a lot with denim, and some handmade one-of-a-kind pieces.”
“That’s smart of you, if you can shore up your sales until times get better. From what
I can tell, the fashion industry has taken a hard hit, you’re not the only one,” he said, his
eyes locked into hers, and she didn’t waver or flinch when he said he’d done some
research. It was no secret that evening gowns weren’t selling at the moment, let alone
handmade haute couture gowns for astronomical amounts of money, or even wedding
gowns. Large gatherings had not been allowed for over a year. Weddings had been
canceled or postponed, or held with four to six people present. And wedding gowns had
been a big part of her business. The last gowns she had delivered to her clients had
never been worn. “It’ll come back. Fashion always does. Women can’t stay away from
it, which is why I’m here. I’ve been looking for a project for my wife, and she’s
addicted to fashion, high-priced fashion. That was Chanel haute couture she was
wearing the other night,” he said proudly, and Eugenia nodded.
“Yes, I know, I recognized it.” He looked satisfied and impressed for a minute. She
didn’t ask him if Natasha had lost the pants to the outfit or just forgotten to put them on.
“She’s taught me a lot about fashion. My last wife was all about jewelry. Natasha
likes diamonds and I give her plenty of them, but she’s all about clothes. She introduced
me to haute couture.” He made it sound like “hot” couture, which in Natasha’s case
seemed appropriate, as Eugenia waited to hear the rest. “She’s a bright girl and she
needs a project, something to keep her busy. She’s young. She can’t follow me around
all day. I’ve got four grown kids, and I don’t want to start over with another one. The
ones I have are enough trouble. They’re always in some kind of mess that costs me a
fortune. I could set her up in her own business, but she has no experience. She needs to
learn the ropes before she can do that. And she loves what you do.”
“Thank you,” she said politely, and her smile was no more sincere than his. And then
she remembered something she wanted to ask him, for her own peace of mind. “By the
way, I thought I saw Natasha yesterday, driving a red sports car, but I wasn’t sure it was
her.”
“Was I with her?” He smiled at Eugenia.
“No, she was alone,” Eugenia answered pleasantly.
“Then it wasn’t her. She doesn’t have a license and she doesn’t drive. I have a red
Ferrari too, as well as the black one, but I like this one better. Natasha had a car
accident in Moscow before she came to America. She was so traumatized that she
refuses to drive. I’ve tried to get her to relax about it, but she’s just too scared, so it
must have been someone else, and she was at her favorite spa all day yesterday.” All of
which meant to Eugenia that he didn’t know that his wife drove when she wanted to
even without a license, since she was certain that Natasha had been Geoff’s visitor the
day before, and she wasn’t surprised Natasha had had an accident previously, given the
way she pulled out of the driveway and nearly hit the van they were in. She’d been in a
big hurry to get out. The hat and dark glasses had almost concealed her face but not
quite.
“I’ll cut to the chase, Eugenie.” Austin went back to the subject at hand. “I want to
invest in your business, so that Natasha can be as involved as she wants to be. Maybe
she can work with you on some designs, that’s up to you. We live in Dallas, so she
won’t be underfoot every day, but maybe you could play her up in the press at your
shows, and she could be a part owner in the business, something for her to be proud of
and keep her busy.” What he was suggesting made Eugenia uncomfortable. She was not
going to let anyone interfere with her designs, and having Natasha as an ambassador of
her line made her shudder. But she needed money, and Austin Wylie knew it.
“I can’t let anyone collaborate on the designs,” she said firmly, “but she could
certainly appear as a star client at the shows during Fashion Week. I’m sure you have
PR people who could place press items of her wearing the gowns, and she’d be
welcome to visit us anytime. And of course if you invest in Eugenia Ward or Princess
Eugenie, she’d be entitled to a healthy discount.”
“I want her to feel some ownership, some pride in sharing the limelight with you. I
wanted to put her on some of the boards I’m on, but she’s not interested in hospitals or
charity boards, and she has no experience in business. All she cares about is fashion. I
was thinking that maybe ten million would buy her a nice chunk of your business, maybe
even a majority participation.” He was trying to get a bargain, and had tipped his hand
while testing the waters. Now Eugenia knew where he was headed. She looked at him
coldly and dug her heels in.
“Mr. Wylie, Austin, my business is worth a great deal more than that. When women
start wearing evening gowns again, and it won’t be long, my label will be worth a
fortune again, just as it was before. Ten million won’t even come close to buying you or
her a majority interest.” At her last calculation, twenty million would have made her
more comfortable while she waited for the tides to turn. Ten million wasn’t enough, and
she wasn’t selling a majority interest in her company for anything close to that. She
wanted to keep control of it herself.
“I’m sorry to hear that, and I’m sure you will bounce back, but right now, today, a
company that only sells evening gowns and wedding gowns isn’t worth a damn. You
have no income to speak of and a very heavy overhead, with stores in New York and
Paris, a buying office, salaries, high-priced rent, expensive fabrics. You’ve got plenty
going out, and not a damn thing coming in.” Eugenia was well aware of it and went over
the figures constantly, and her accountant had spelled it out for her. It was the terror she
was living with every day, that she couldn’t hold out until the good times returned. “You
could also get some damn fine publicity if you put the spotlight on my wife as a coowner, or even an investor.” Eugenia cringed inwardly at the thought. “Maybe we could
say a forty-five percent ownership for ten million,” he suggested, and Eugenia shook her
head.
“My business is worth a lot more than that, even today. But thank you for your
interest.” She didn’t counter his offer, and she could always go back to him, unless he
bought something else. But ten million was nothing to him and they both knew it. She
wanted his money, but not his wife as the figurehead, nor her interference in the
business. Eugenia stood up then, indicating that the meeting was over, and Wylie looked
disappointed.
“I hope you give it some thought, unless you have other investors of course.”
“I’ve thought about it, to get us over this dry spell, but we’re managing for now, and
if our new daywear takes off, it will keep us going until evening wear comes back.”
Austin nodded. He didn’t really care, he just wanted to give Natasha a project to keep
her busy. She complained constantly that she was bored. And if he could buy her a
major participation in her favorite line, she would be thrilled, and he’d be a hero in her
eyes. He stood up and put his hat on, and Eugenia walked him to the door.
“Thank you again for your interest.” She smiled warmly this time. She was
disappointed too, but there was no way she was going to sell him nearly half her
business for ten million dollars. She knew she had done the right thing, turning him
down, and she wanted to talk to Patrick about it. She hardly knew him, but she trusted
him.
The Ferrari shot down the driveway with Austin’s foot on the gas, and Eugenia
wandered back to the kitchen, thinking about the meeting. It had lasted exactly twenty
minutes and had been futile. She was just as broke as she’d been before. As she walked
into the kitchen, there was a heated debate going on between Eloise and Sofia, and
Eugenia smiled when she saw Sofia’s outfit. It looked homemade and essentially
ridiculous, but it was cute on her. Eloise was outraged, her every sensibility offended
by what her sister was wearing. She took it personally, as an affront to the art form she
loved.
Sofia was wearing an overall dress. The top was well-worn denim that had seen
better days. It had been cut off at the waist, and instead of the overall pants, someone
had sewn a pink tutu skirt to it, with a pink lining so you couldn’t see through it. A pink
sequin heart had been pinned to the front pocket, and Sofia was wearing it with pink
high-top Converse she or someone had glued pink sequins to. And she had her hair in
pigtails.
“For God’s sake, Sofia, you look thirteen years old. Where did you get that
monstrosity? I’m not going out with you today. I wouldn’t be seen dead with you.”
“I got it at the county fair for ten dollars. It’s handmade,” Sofia said proudly. “Like
haute couture,” she added, and Eloise looked like she was going to have a seizure.
“Don’t you dare call that ‘haute couture,’ it’s not haute anything, it’s about as low as
it gets.” Sofia had great legs, and a perfect body and pretty face. Eugenia thought she
could actually get away with the dress. She was wearing it with a pink T-shirt. “That’s
not fashion,” Eloise said in a rage.
“It makes me happy,” Sofia said, unaffected by her sister’s comments. She had heard
them all her life. Brad looked amused as he listened to them, and left in the middle of it
to play the deciding match with Stef. Geoff and Gloria had retreated to their house. Liz
was in hers and Stefano’s, answering emails from her office, and Daphne was coming
over that afternoon to swim with Tucker.
“I like your military surplus better, and I don’t like that on you either. You could
wear streetwear,” Eloise said, which was what she designed for Balenciaga.
“Streetwear is too depressing. It looks better on guys,” Sofia said dismissively, but
always kind, she added a compliment to her sister. “I like the bags you designed with
the graffiti on them, but I can’t afford them.”
“I’ll send you one,” Eloise conceded. “How can people take you seriously when you
wear clothes like that?”
“I wear scrubs when I see patients or deliver babies. I’m on vacation, so I can wear
what I want.”
Eugenia glanced at Sofia again, as she poured herself another cup of coffee. She was
still thinking of the meeting with Austin Wylie, and was distracted. She had heard the
arguments between Eloise and Sofia before, and this was no different, except that
Sofia’s outfit was even more whimsical than what she usually wore, and Eloise was
even more offended. The crazy overall tutu outfit was an assault on all her sensibilities.
“You dress like either a cupcake or a Marine.” Eloise glowered at her, and Eugenia
looked at the outfit more closely.
“It looks like cotton candy,” she said, and sat down with them in the heat of the
familiar battle.
“I love cotton candy,” Sofia said with a smile at her mother, undaunted by her older
sister. Eloise was wearing black shorts, a black eyelet blouse with balloon sleeves, and
sexy black sandals that laced up her long, shapely legs. She was chic and beautiful, but
Eugenia thought Sofia was right about her funny outfit. It was happy. “I thought that too
when I bought it. I was eating cotton candy, and the tulle skirt looked just like it.” As she
said it, Eloise stopped complaining and stared at her. She got up from the table abruptly
and started to walk out of the kitchen, as though she had forgotten something.
“Where are you going?” her mother asked her. “Don’t go away mad. You’re all
entitled to wear whatever you want. Your sister works hard, she’s having some fun on
vacation.”
“Yeah…whatever. I have to do something.” Her mind was a million miles away as
she left.
“Don’t take it to heart. You know how she is.” Eugenia smiled at her youngest
daughter, but Sofia didn’t seem upset. She was used to it. She went back to the
guesthouse she was sharing with Brad, and said she’d see her mother later, while
Eugenia sat alone in the kitchen lost in thought, wondering what to do now without
Austin Wylie as an investor. For a minute she had thought there was a glimmer of hope
to save her business, but the tiny glimmer she had seen briefly had gone out, and she
was right back where she was before, panicked.
She called Patrick before lunch and told him she had met with Wylie, and he was
instantly curious, and happy to hear from her.
“How did it go?” he asked her.
“It didn’t. He suggested we collaborate on designs, his wife and I, which nearly
gave me heart failure, and the bottom line is he wants forty-five percent of my business
for ten million dollars. He originally wanted a majority share, which I said was a
nonstarter, and so is the collaboration on design. He wants to buy a toy to keep her
entertained, and have her be the ambassador for my haute couture line. I turned him
down. He had done some research, though, and knows the well is running dry. It doesn’t
take a genius to figure out that evening gowns haven’t sold in a year and a half, with the
whole world in lockdown. And he wanted to take advantage of it for a fire sale.”
“You turned him down on all of it?” he asked her.
“Yes. So I’m back to square one, with no investors.”
“From what you’ve said, you haven’t looked for any. He’s not the only fish in the
sea, if you really think you need investors, and you were right to turn him down. He’ll
be back with a better offer.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, sounding discouraged. “I was pretty definite and so was
he.”
“That doesn’t mean squat with a guy like him. He’s a businessman and a shrewd one.
He didn’t get where he is by being dumb or giving up when he wants something. He
wanted the most he could get for the least he’d have to pay. You turned him down, so
now he has to improve the offer. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. But trust me, it’s not over
yet, not at all.” She was cheered by what Patrick said and looking forward to her day on
the boat with him. She felt faintly guilty for taking a day away from her children, but
they could entertain themselves without her for a day, and she was excited about seeing
him. He was the first man who had sparked her interest in years, and he seemed just as
attracted and intrigued as she was. Her children had their own lives now, and she had a
right to one too, although she hadn’t tried to have a life of her own for years, and it
never worked out before when the children were younger. They took up too much of her
time and attention, and so did her business. There hadn’t been a serious man in her life
in a very long time, or even a minor interest. But Patrick seemed like a very special,
unusual man, and worth a closer look.
“We’ll talk about Wylie tomorrow,” he reminded her. “I hate to say it, but I have to
go now. I have a conference call in two minutes about my crumbling empire.” He
sounded good-natured about it.
“That makes two of us,” she said, smiling.
“It’s just temporary. We’ll be back.” She loved how confident he was that their
business problems were just a passing phase and not the end of life as they knew it. She
hoped he was right. She was skeptical, but he was very convincing. “See you
tomorrow,” he said, and a minute later they hung up. She was interested that he thought
Wylie was just trying to see how little he could pay her, and would make another offer.
She went to find Eloise then, and found her sketching furiously at a makeshift
drawing board in her room.
“Working?” Eugenia asked, not wanting to distract her. She looked intent on what
she was doing.
“Maybe…yes…I don’t know yet. I’ll talk to you later.”
Eugenia smiled as she quietly shut the door, put on her bathing suit, and went out to
the pool with a book. Everyone seemed to have their own projects that morning. She
found Sofia at the pool in a khaki-colored one-piece bathing suit, the color was awful,
but her figure was so perfect, it didn’t matter. She looked beautiful anyway, and the
overall tutu had disappeared.
“Army surplus?” her mother asked as she sat down on a chaise longue next to her.
She was fascinated by her youngest daughter’s wardrobe, and the offbeat places where
she found it.
“Goodwill,” Sofia said with a smile. She was reading a book by an Indian
philosopher Eugenia had never heard of, who promised peace in your soul, which
seemed like a good thing to aspire to, especially these days. But Sofia had a very Zen
attitude about life anyway. She saw a lot of hardship and tragedy in her work, people
who didn’t get treatment for conditions that could have been cured and died from them
unnecessarily, women who had no prenatal care at all, who had a dozen children and
were on welfare, a high infant and maternal mortality rate that could have been avoided
with minimal prenatal care, and babies born in squalid conditions instead of modern
hospitals that were too far away to help. It gave her a different perspective on life than
that of her sisters, and although she was younger than all of them, and looked it, she was
wiser in many ways. She got along best with Daphne, who was calm and sensible too.
Gloria and Eloise were too volatile and had always picked on her. As a child, Sofia
had learned to stay away from them as much as possible. As the oldest and the youngest,
male and female, she and Stef had never had much in common, and weren’t close. It was
interesting to see where their strongest attachments were, and Gloria had always been
the neediest and most self-centered and difficult. She was desperate to be the center of
attention, and often achieved it by being the most strident and critical, demanding what
she wanted in an aggressive way, which was alienating. Her lavish, very expensive
wedding, even at a hard time in the world and for her mother, was a prime example of
that. It wasn’t an endearing feature in her character.
Eugenia was more patient with her than her siblings, who were tired of Gloria’s
constant ploys for center stage. She came across as entitled and spoiled, and Geoff
appeared to be equally so, with very little to back it up, and no charm to make his
demands appealing. They were a tough pair. Eugenia was finding his bad behavior hard
to tolerate. Brad, on the other hand, was another winner, like Phillip. They were both
lovely men, and good to her daughters. Brad had already won her heart four days into
the vacation. He was a keeper, and she hoped he’d stay, although she didn’t think Sofia
was ready to settle down yet. She loved her work in the challenging conditions of
Appalachia, and Brad had mentioned in passing that ultimately his goal was to return to
Chicago, to be with his family and work with the urban poor there. Eugenia had no idea
how Sofia would feel about that. In their own way, several of her children made their
careers a very high priority, as she had, and Sofia was one of them. In her case,
selflessly for the good of humanity, not for profit. She was the noblest of all.
—
They all helped themselves to lunch at the ample buffet the chef set up, and Daphne
came over with Tucker when he woke up from his nap. She looked even bigger than two
days before, which Eugenia thought wasn’t possible. Sofia asked her some questions
about the pregnancy, and Daphne let her feel her belly.
“They’re in good positions, they’re getting ready,” Sofia said with a professional
air. “Does your doctor think they’ll come early?”
“She doesn’t know. We’re five weeks out, and with twins she said anything is
possible from now on. When all of you leave at the end of the week, we’re moving back
to the city. We’ll be back out here for the wedding, but other than that, my doctor wants
me in the city now, close to home.” Daphne was getting increasingly nervous about the
delivery, worried that it would be twice as long and twice as hard as Tucker’s had
been, and that she’d have to have a Caesarean if either baby was in distress, or it took
too long, or their positions changed.
“That’s smart,” Sofia said. “They’re pretty low, but that’s normal, they don’t have
much room, and they’re not small. They both feel very close to normal size, which is
why you’re so big. That’s a lot of baby you’re carrying.” She smiled at her older sister,
and was very professional, as Eugenia listened.
“I hope you have them before or after the wedding. I don’t want to be delivering
babies while adjusting Gloria’s veil,” Eugenia said, and they all laughed.
“No, but Sofia could,” Daphne said confidently with a smile at her little sister.
“I delivered triplets once in a log cabin with no heat, electricity, or running water.
The mother and all three babies survived, but I nearly didn’t. That was my trial by fire.
Everything is easy compared to that.”
“It sounds terrifying,” Daphne confirmed.
She had brought the nanny with her to run after Tucker. “I can’t keep up with him
anymore. He runs too fast and I’m too slow. Angelica is on vacation right now, so she
won’t take time off when the babies come. This is a friend of hers. She’s sweet, but not
as careful. I can’t wait for Angie to come back when we get to the city.” The
replacement nanny looked very young, and was very pretty. She talked a lot, and she let
Tucker do more and get more adventurous than his mother or regular nanny would have.
The relief nanny kept telling him he was a big boy now and was going to be a big
brother. But he was only three years old. She was running around the lawn with him
playing tag, while the whole family talked and sat around the pool. Brad and Stef came
back, and Brad declared victory, while Stefano vowed vengeance. They were all
laughing, and Eugenia noticed that Geoff had slipped away from the group and was
chatting with the nanny, who was wearing a red bikini. No one had paid attention to
Geoff walking away from the group and talking to the relief nanny, while Tucker
continued to run around with no one watching him. Eugenia was about to say something
to Daphne but didn’t want to worry her, so she kept an eye on him. The nanny had her
back to the pool and was laughing at something Geoff said to her, standing close to him
and facing him, as Tucker stumbled and fell backward into the deep end. He
disappeared without a sound, startled, and sank like a rock to the bottom of the pool, as
Eugenia leapt to her feet and gave a scream. Neither Geoff nor the girl in the red bikini
had seen what had happened and didn’t realize it. Eugenia started running toward the
pool, and Brad reacted immediately, got there first on longer legs, and dove in as the
nanny and Geoff stared at him, frozen in place as the whole group fell silent. Daphne
started to cry as she ran toward the pool as best she could.
Brad came to the surface within seconds with Tucker in one hand, the child already
unconscious, and he laid him down next to the pool and pressed the water out of him.
Within seconds Tucker was awake, coughing and spluttering, and Daphne pulled him
into her arms and held him. Brad was the hero of the hour, and Sofia came to them
immediately, took her nephew in her arms, told her sister to sit down, and looked at
Brad gratefully.
“Good work, Dr. Jackson.” They were all shaken by the realization of how easily
Tucker could have drowned, with no one watching him, even though they were all at the
pool.
Daphne was shaking as she spoke to the nanny in the red bathing suit, who was
crying, aware of what she’d done. She’d been so engaged in flirting with Geoff that she
had totally lost track of her charge. Daphne’s voice was shaking and harsh. “Call an
Uber, go back to my house and get your things, and leave before I get home. You’re
fired. You could have killed my son.” It didn’t bear thinking about, the image was so
awful, and a distinct possibility.
“I’m sorry, I thought…I was watching him…I didn’t think…” Geoff had mingled into
the crowd by then and she was standing alone, fired, disgraced, and could easily have
been responsible for the death of a child. Geoff paid no attention as she picked up her
sandals, blouse, and purse and left the pool area to wait for the Uber. Eugenia wasn’t
sure if the others had seen him talking to the nanny, and she didn’t say anything. But she
looked very serious for the rest of the afternoon. That event, coupled with the
mysterious woman’s visit the day before, probably Natasha Wylie, demanded a
conversation with Gloria that she was dreading. She had to take a good look at who she
was marrying before too late. He was clearly a womanizer, and possibly cheating on
her weeks before their wedding.
Sofia made Daphne lie down for a while after the emotions of what had happened.
Gloria and Eloise took care of Tucker, and Stef, Brad, and Liz sat quietly talking.
Eugenia kept Daphne company and tried to calm her, urging her to focus on the fact that
the worst hadn’t happened, Tucker was fine, and things like that happen with children,
and all’s well that ends well. She tried to put a positive spin on it and didn’t show that
she was furious with Geoff even more than with the irresponsible relief nanny. He had
distracted her from her duties just to flirt with her. She didn’t know if anyone had
noticed, but she had and that was enough. Geoff had disappeared into his guesthouse
very quickly, and no one missed him.
Eugenia was mulling over all of it and the inevitable conversation she would have to
have with Gloria before they left. Stefano had driven Daphne and Tucker home in her
car, and Liz followed them to drive him back. The mood was solemn and dampened
after the near-drowning incident, and no one was in a festive mood that night. Eloise
knocked softly on the door of her mother’s room as she dressed for dinner.
“Can I come in?” Eloise asked her cautiously. She could see how upset her mother
was.
“Of course,” Eugenia said, smiling at her, trying to look more cheerful than she felt,
as Eloise sat down, with a folder in her hand.
“Well, that was certainly a shit show today, wasn’t it?” Eloise said bluntly. She
looked upset too. None of them could bear thinking of what if the worst had happened,
and they thanked God that Brad had seen it and moved quickly. “Did you see what I
saw?” Eloise asked her.
“And what was that?” Eugenia asked noncommittally, not wanting to admit to her
daughter how furious she was with Geoff.
“That my sister’s shithead fiancé was hitting on the nanny and distracting her from
her duties, so Tucker almost drowned.” Eloise had summed it up accurately, in her
mother’s opinion. “If Brad hadn’t moved fast, Tucker would be dead.” It was an
unbearable thought for them all, and the memory of how quickly Tucker had lost
consciousness after he sank was horrifying.
“I can’t disagree with you,” Eugenia said sadly. “I saw it too. I don’t think Gloria
did. I’m not sure anyone saw Geoff move toward the nanny and engage her in
conversation. She was flattered and all starry-eyed talking to him. He seemed like a big
man to her, all puffed up with himself. She bought right into his act. I was watching them
before Tucker fell into the pool. I saw it happen. She had her back to him, looking into
Geoff’s eyes.”
“He is really a piece of shit,” Eloise said angrily. “I don’t know what Gloria sees in
him, except his title one day, and who cares.”
“Apparently, she does,” Eugenia said unhappily.
“She can’t marry him, Mom. If she wakes up, she’ll be miserable in six months, and
divorced in a year.” Eugenia didn’t disagree with her, but there was a long way to go
before Gloria woke up. “On another subject, I had an idea today. Maybe I’m crazy, or
Sofia’s fashion sense is contagious. I know you’ve been struggling with your couture
line and business has been lousy, but looking at her today, I listened to what you said
and tried to see her through your eyes, and suddenly I realized something. You dress a
certain kind of woman, your very elite clients, and slightly less lofty ones for your
ready-to-wear line. But these are all very wealthy women, usually married to rich men,
or sleeping with them, who don’t care how much they spend, want to impress other men,
and use the clothes as status symbols to show off to their friends. But there’s a huge
market out there of women who make less money, aren’t married or a rich man’s
mistress, and are very young. The youth market is a gold mine these days. That’s what
Balenciaga and other brands are after, as well as lots of lesser brands you don’t even
know about. The daughters of your clients, or women a tad older than that who want to
look like kids. I know it’s not what you do, but right now, groping to expand your
market, I suddenly had this crazy idea that you could do a line for those young girls, or
even women in the next age group up. Say thirteen to twenty, or twenty-five, girls who
want to have fun with what they wear. You called it cotton candy, and that would be a
great name for it. It could be a really smart commercial decision, in a completely
different price bracket.” Eloise handed her mother the file, which was full of quick
sketches she had worked on all afternoon. There was a small color chart showing the
range of tones Eloise could see them in, and none of them were black. They weren’t
chic, but everything about them said “Fun.” Eugenia smiled as she went through them,
and was touched by the time Eloise had spent on it. “They’re mostly tulle and sequins,
and inexpensive fabrics, but with the patternmakers you have, they could be well cut
and cheaply produced, and you might start a whole new craze, and who knows, some
forty-year-olds might want to wear them too.” What Eloise had done was financially
brilliant, and creatively inspired. “You could sell them at a pop-up store, and do a small
first run as an experiment to try them out.” Eugenia was smiling broadly when she
closed the file and looked at her daughter.
“Eloise, you are a genius. I love the idea. Some of our factories are starting to open,
and none of these would be expensive to make.” They were mostly tulle skirts with lots
of sequins, mermaid skirts, a couple of circle skirts, glittering tops, heart-shaped
appliqués, pink denim Levi-style jackets in less expensive fabrics. There wasn’t a
single design Eugenia didn’t like, and they sparked a few ideas of her own. “I want to
play with this some more, and I’ll check out resources for these fabrics. I could do a
small run in limited sizes, and see what happens,” she said, excited by Eloise’s
suggestion. It was the best idea anyone had had so far to bring some cash flow back into
the business and keep it afloat.
“It makes you look modern and young to reach out to that age group. You’re not
cheapening your line, you’re adding a whole new one, in tune with the times, if you do
it.”
“Thank you.” Eugenia put her arms around her and hugged her. “I think you may have
just started a whole explosion of new ideas I never thought of. My casual daywear is
still aimed at my traditional client. This is all for their daughters and granddaughters,
and young women with a modest income who want to look cute.”
“We should dedicate it to Sofia. I got the idea from her and that ridiculous outfit she
was wearing today. I think you should copy it and make it your signature piece. Cotton
Candy could wind up being more profitable than your main business, and there’s no
shame in that.” Coming from Eloise, it was a major change of direction from the purist
attitudes about fashion that she considered sacred. This was all fluff and fun and a
whole new attitude about what really young women wanted to wear. It was pure fantasy,
and young women and teenage girls were going to love it. They’d have to make it
affordable, which would be new for Eugenia.
“I’ll start checking it out right away, and really target the line to the client. This is
going to be fun if we can make it happen. I want to try it out fast, with a few main pieces
to test the market,” Eugenia said.
They were still talking about it when they went down to dinner with the others. The
whole group was subdued that night after the shock of what had happened to Tucker, and
the emotional drain afterward.
Eugenia didn’t tell them where she was going the next day, and said she was going
into the city. She still felt guilty taking time away from them, but Gloria and Geoff were
going to the beach, Sofia, Liz, and Eloise were going shopping in Southampton, Stef and
Brad were playing their rematch, and Daphne was staying home with Tucker, since she
didn’t have a nanny.
“Will you be home for dinner, Mom?” Eloise asked her at dinner when she told them
she was going to the city the next day.
“No, I won’t. I’ve got meetings all day in town, and by the time I get back, with the
traffic, it will be late.” No one objected or seemed to care, and she felt strange lying to
her children, but she wanted to spend the day with Patrick, and didn’t want to tell them.
They might make too much of it, and she didn’t know where it was going. It was too
soon to tell. It was none of their business. And it was fun having a secret. It had been a
very long time since she’d had one. She could hardly wait to see Patrick the next day.
