Eric doesn’t look impressed.
“Rebecca, this plan of yours is costing a lot more time and money than I anticipated,” he says heavily. “Money which could have gone into conventional marketing. It had better work.”
“It will! I promise it will!”
“And if it doesn’t?”
I feel a surge of frustration. Why does he have to be so negative? “Then…I resign!” I say with a flourish. “OK? Satisfied?”
“I’ll hold you to that, Rebecca,” Eric says with an ominous look.
“You do that!” I say confidently, and hold his gaze till he walks away.
Shit. I just offered to resign. Why on earth did I do that? I’m just wondering whether to run after Eric and say “Ha-ha, I was only joking!” when my phone starts ringing and I flip it open. “Hello?”
“Hi, Becky? Buffy.”
I stifle a sigh. Buffy is one of Danny’s assistants and she’s been calling every evening, just to check some tiny detail or other.
“Hi, Buffy!” I force a cheerful tone. “What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to check Mr. Kovitz’s hotel room had been ordered as he wanted it? Eighty degrees, the TV tuned to MTV, three cans of Dr Pepper by the bed?”
“Yes. I ordered it all.” Suddenly something occurs to me. “Buffy, what time is it in New York?”
“It’s four A.M.,” she says brightly, and I stare at the phone, gobsmacked.
“You’ve got up at four A.M. just to check that Danny has Dr Pepper in his hotel room?”
“That’s OK!” She sounds totally breezy. “It’s all part of working in the fashion industry!”
“He’s here!” comes a cry from the door. “Danny Kovitz is here!”
“Buffy, I have to go,” I say hastily, and thrust my phone down. As I head toward the doors I glimpse a limo on the street outside and feel a prickle of excitement. It’s amazing how important Danny has got!
Then the doors swing back, and there he is! He’s as skinny as ever, and dressed in old jeans and the coolest black jacket, with one sleeve made out of mattress ticking. He looks tired and his curly hair is disheveled, but his blue eyes light up as he sees me, and he comes running forward.
“Becky! Oh my God, look at you.” He envelops me in an enormous hug. “You look fabulous!”
“Look at you!” I retort. “Mr. Famous!”
“C’mon. I’m not famous.…” Danny makes a two-second stab at being self-deprecating. “Well…OK. Yes, I am. Isn’t it wild?”
I can’t help giggling. “So, is this your entourage?” I nod at the woman in a headset who has come in alongside a huge, bald secret-service — type guy.
“That’s my assistant, Carla.”
“I thought Buffy was your assistant.”
“My second assistant,” Danny explains. “And that’s Stan, my bodyguard.”
“You need a bodyguard?” I say in amazement. Even I didn’t realize Danny had got quite that famous.
“Well, I don’t really need him,” Danny admits. “But I thought it would be cool. Hey, did you get them to put Dr Pepper in my room?”
“Three cans.” I see Eric approaching and quickly steer Danny away, toward the champagne table. “So…how’s the design coming?” I ask casually. “Only I’m getting some pressure from my boss….”
A familiar defensive look comes over Danny’s face.
“I’m working on it, OK?” he says. “My team had some ideas but I’m not happy with them. I need to soak up the feel of the shop…the vibe of London…maybe take inspiration from some other European cities….”
Other European cities?
“Right. And…how long do you think that will take? About?”
“Let me introduce myself,” cuts in Eric, who has finally caught up with us. “Eric Wilmot. Head of marketing here at The Look. Welcome to Britain.” He shakes Danny’s hand with a grim smile. “We’re delighted to be collaborating with such a talented young designer on such an exciting fashion project.”
That sentence came word-for-word out of the press release. I know, because I wrote it.
“Danny was just telling me how he’s really close to coming up with a final design!” I say to Eric, praying that Danny keeps his mouth closed. “Isn’t that exciting? Although no exact time scale yet…”
“Mr. Kovitz?” A girl of about twenty, wearing green boots and a very strange coat made out of what looks like cellophane, is shyly approaching. “I’m from Fashion Student Gazette. I just wanted to say I’m a huge fan. We all are, in my year at Central Saint Martins. Could I ask you a few questions about your inspiration?”
Ha. You see? I shoot a triumphant look at Eric, who just scowls back.
It’s pretty exciting, being part of a major fashion launch at a major department store! Even if it is a failing, empty department store.
Everybody gives a speech, even me. Brianna announces the initiative and thanks all the journalists for coming. Eric says again how excited we are to be working with Danny. I explain that I’ve known Danny ever since he was first stocked at Barneys (I don’t mention that all his Tshirts fell to bits and I nearly got the sack). Danny says how thrilled he is to be designer in residence at The Look, and how he’s sure within six months this will be the only place to shop in London.
By the end, everyone’s in a brilliant mood. Everyone except Eric.