show from the color scheme to the music. If that’s what you are
looking for, I have no problem with that; it’s just something we need to
understand up front. Certainly we can offer whatever support you need from
editorial to stage design. We even have our own photographer who can show you
how your looks will photograph on the runway.”
“How did you know
I was at the Ram Patel show?” he asked.
Great. Here I thought we had this cosmic, viscerally charged connection and he didn’t
even remember me. Maybe he couldn’t recognize me without a headset, glasses,
and dark circles under my eyes?
“Mr. Singh, you
plowed into me on stage after the show. I don’t usually forget being run over
by an Austin Powers look alike.” Crap, maybe that wasn’t offensive? Maybe? Kind
of? Smile, Millie. Ha, ha, new client, a little joke between friends…
“Hmmmm.” While
professional Millie was squirming in her seat, after hours Millie loved the way
he made that thinking noise. There was nothing more attractive than a beautiful
man in deep thought.
“Austin Powers? I
take it you didn’t care for my choice of attire that day. At least now I know
you were in awe of my charming wits and good looks and not my clothing. I
thought maybe it was the boldness of my fashion sense that caused you to stare
open-mouthed at me.”
“So you do
remember meeting me?” Little liar.
“I remember it
quite well, Millicent. I was just teasing you a bit. It’s the one thing my
sisters hate about me.”
Don’t compare
me to your sisters. I don’t want to be your sister, mister.
“So,
support? What exactly are you looking for our company to provide, Mr. Singh?”
“Let me get back
to you on that, Millie. My first instinct is to ask for everything, all the
help that you and your team can offer. But I am a stubborn son of a bitch, and
I don’t want you getting pissed off and dumping me on the side of the fashion
highway, as it were. So let me mull that one over a bit.”
I couldn’t help
imagining a limo pulling to the side of a deserted highway and the door opening
as I shoved him out of it. “Mr. Singh, I assure you that you will not be the
first designer I’ve worked with who pisses me off, and you won’t be the last
designer I would be tempted to throw out of a moving vehicle. I’m sure we can
find some type of middle ground; just let me know what you decide. In the
meantime, shall we look over some of your past collections?”
“Certainly, I
have my iPad with me if you would—” Suddenly the loud grumbling of a
stomach rose up over his words and drowned him out. Thank God it wasn’t mine.
“Well now. It
would seem that I have once again forgotten to eat. Would you be so kind as to
join me for lunch while we look over the collection? Unless of course you’ve
already eaten, in which case I can just order something in.”
“No, I normally
pack a lunch, and I haven’t had a chance to eat just yet. There’s a great café
just around the corner—nothing fancy, just soups and sandwiches. Does
that sound like it would work?” I had to raise my voice at the end to be heard
over the second grumble.
He grinned and
stood up, gingerly avoiding the magazines piled around him. “I think anything
sounds good at this point. Please lead the way.”
That, based on
the close proximity of the office walls and hoarder-like stacks around us, was
easier said than done. I had to swing out around the edge of the desk to avoid
picking my sweater and brush by him, front to front, to make my way out the
door. So much for Defcon 5. That little brush-by created just enough friction
to send all my reactors to Defcon 1. Good Lord, I had to find some human
contact somewhere. Maybe I needed to join one of those groups I had heard about
where total strangers gathered together and hugged each another. They lay
around in piles on the floor and hugged and held on to each
looking for, I have no problem with that; it’s just something we need to
understand up front. Certainly we can offer whatever support you need from
editorial to stage design. We even have our own photographer who can show you
how your looks will photograph on the runway.”
“How did you know
I was at the Ram Patel show?” he asked.
Great. Here I thought we had this cosmic, viscerally charged connection and he didn’t
even remember me. Maybe he couldn’t recognize me without a headset, glasses,
and dark circles under my eyes?
“Mr. Singh, you
plowed into me on stage after the show. I don’t usually forget being run over
by an Austin Powers look alike.” Crap, maybe that wasn’t offensive? Maybe? Kind
of? Smile, Millie. Ha, ha, new client, a little joke between friends…
“Hmmmm.” While
professional Millie was squirming in her seat, after hours Millie loved the way
he made that thinking noise. There was nothing more attractive than a beautiful
man in deep thought.
“Austin Powers? I
take it you didn’t care for my choice of attire that day. At least now I know
you were in awe of my charming wits and good looks and not my clothing. I
thought maybe it was the boldness of my fashion sense that caused you to stare
open-mouthed at me.”
“So you do
remember meeting me?” Little liar.
“I remember it
quite well, Millicent. I was just teasing you a bit. It’s the one thing my
sisters hate about me.”
Don’t compare
me to your sisters. I don’t want to be your sister, mister.
“So,
support? What exactly are you looking for our company to provide, Mr. Singh?”
“Let me get back
to you on that, Millie. My first instinct is to ask for everything, all the
help that you and your team can offer. But I am a stubborn son of a bitch, and
I don’t want you getting pissed off and dumping me on the side of the fashion
highway, as it were. So let me mull that one over a bit.”
I couldn’t help
imagining a limo pulling to the side of a deserted highway and the door opening
as I shoved him out of it. “Mr. Singh, I assure you that you will not be the
first designer I’ve worked with who pisses me off, and you won’t be the last
designer I would be tempted to throw out of a moving vehicle. I’m sure we can
find some type of middle ground; just let me know what you decide. In the
meantime, shall we look over some of your past collections?”
“Certainly, I
have my iPad with me if you would—” Suddenly the loud grumbling of a
stomach rose up over his words and drowned him out. Thank God it wasn’t mine.
“Well now. It
would seem that I have once again forgotten to eat. Would you be so kind as to
join me for lunch while we look over the collection? Unless of course you’ve
already eaten, in which case I can just order something in.”
“No, I normally
pack a lunch, and I haven’t had a chance to eat just yet. There’s a great café
just around the corner—nothing fancy, just soups and sandwiches. Does
that sound like it would work?” I had to raise my voice at the end to be heard
over the second grumble.
He grinned and
stood up, gingerly avoiding the magazines piled around him. “I think anything
sounds good at this point. Please lead the way.”
That, based on
the close proximity of the office walls and hoarder-like stacks around us, was
easier said than done. I had to swing out around the edge of the desk to avoid
picking my sweater and brush by him, front to front, to make my way out the
door. So much for Defcon 5. That little brush-by created just enough friction
to send all my reactors to Defcon 1. Good Lord, I had to find some human
contact somewhere. Maybe I needed to join one of those groups I had heard about
where total strangers gathered together and hugged each another. They lay
around in piles on the floor and hugged and held on to each
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