New York Debut (21 page)

Daisy nodded, but she looked a little disappointed. “See you guys later,” she called as Eliza tugged her away.

“Poor Daisy,” said Casey. “Maybe we should rescue her.”

“Or do an intervention,” said Kriti. They all laughed.

“Except that if we rescued Daisy, Eliza would have to come with us too,” DJ pointed out.

“That’s right,” said Casey. “No one’s allowed to be alone in the city. Although I’m pretty sure Miss Eliza Wilton can take care of herself.”

“Pity the mugger that tries to steal her new Marc Jacobs bag from her,” said DJ.

“She’d kick where it counts with her new Prada boots,” added Casey.

“Oh, you guys!” Rhiannon shook her head. “Now, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover before our dress rehearsal. Let’s get moving!”

And they did cover a lot of ground and, despite comfortable shoes, some of the girls were starting to complain.

“Last stop is my dad’s company,” Kriti told them. “And he’s got a comfortable sales room where he entertains his buyers. You can put your feet up if you like.”

“We’ll call ahead for a taxi to take us back to Dylan’s,” offered DJ.

Kriti’s dad was very gracious. He treated them like they were important buyers. He showed them his latest pieces and then allowed Kriti to take them through the factory. At the end, he gave them a discount on purchasing the reproduction bags of their choice — at his cost!

“Wow,” said Ariel as they waited for the taxi. “I can’t believe I have a real Versace bag.”

“It’s not real,” DJ reminded her.

“But it looks real. I’ll bet no one will know, and I’m not telling.”

“Let’s all make a pact,” said Haley eagerly. “We won’t tell anyone that these are knockoffs.”

“Except my mother,” said Ariel. “She’d wonder where I got five grand to lay down for a purse like this.”

“It’s useless to make a pact anyway,” DJ said.
“Eliza
will know.”

“And Eliza will tell,” added Casey.

“Oh, yeah . . .” Ariel nodded. “What’s up with her anyway? I used to think she was kind of nice, but she’s been a real witch on this trip.”

“Didn’t you hear that Harry broke up with her?” asked Haley.

“Yeah, but why is she taking it out on us?”

“She’s taking it out on Taylor,” Casey corrected her.

“That’s right,” said Taylor. “She thinks I stole her man.”

“Did you?” asked Ariel.

“No, I did not. But I’m starting to have second thoughts.”

Then the taxi arrived. At first the driver started to complain about seven girls piling into his car.

“Don’t worry,” Taylor told him as she slid into the front seat next to him. “We tip well.”

He laughed. “And you’re not too hard on the eyes either.”

Taylor told him where to take them. “And step on it,” she said, “Please.”

He did step on it, so much so that DJ, crammed in the center of the backseat, started to feel carsick. But they made it to the studio a couple of minutes before two. Taylor paid and tipped the driver. Then they went inside to discover that, once again, they’d beaten Eliza and Daisy. But Grandmother was there.

“Just on time.” She sounded relieved as she looked over the girls. “But there are only seven of you. Where are the others?

Daisy and Eliza?”

“We went our separate ways today,” DJ explained. “They went shopping.”

“Well, the limos are waiting,” said Grandmother. “And Dylan and Ramona are all ready to head over to Bryant Park. We have the use of the catwalk only between three and five, although Dylan thought if we got there early we might be able to squeeze in some extra time. Why don’t some of you ride with them?” She looked over the group. “Taylor, Desiree, Casey, Rhiannon, you four go with Dylan. We’ll wait for Daisy and Eliza. Tell Dylan we’ll be along presently.”

The first limo arrived at Bryant Park, but the other one didn’t seem to be following, and it was already 2:30. The catwalk was free, so naturally, Dylan was pushing to “get the show on the road.” DJ called her grandmother to check on the others.

“Those silly girls didn’t make it back here,” growled Grandmother. “I just called Eliza, and she’s still waiting for a taxi in who knows where. I told her to go directly to Bryant Park — and if a taxi doesn’t get there in five minutes, I told her to walk. Shoes or no shoes! The other girls and I are on our way to Bryant Park now, but traffic is horrible. Tell Dylan we’ll catch up with him as soon as we can. In the meantime, you go ahead and get started.”

DJ relayed this information, and Dylan and Ramona began putting the four girls through their paces, practicing on the catwalk, which wasn’t all that different than the one Grandmother had gotten for them at home. But they were still wearing their street clothes when Grandmother and the other girls arrived.

“Still no sign of Daisy or Eliza?” Grandmother asked DJ. “I was hoping they’d beat us here.”

“We haven’t seen them.” DJ forced a smile. “Don’t worry, Grandmother, I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

Grandmother shook her head in dismay. “I’m very surprised and disappointed in Eliza. I thought she had better manners than this.”

DJ just shrugged. But it was her turn to do the walk again.

Think fresh
,
relaxed
,
confident
,
having fun
,
but not too much fun
, she kept telling herself as she walked.
Shoulders back
,
head up
,
legs moving in a straight line.
It was a lot to remember, but the more she did it, the easier it became.

“Lost?”
DJ heard her grandmother shouting. “How can you possibly be lost? You’re only a few blocks away from here. No, it’s on
Sixth
Avenue. You need to go
east
, Eliza.” She paused. “How should I possibly know whether it’s right or left. Good grief!” Grandmother held her phone out to one of Dylan’s design assistants. “Please, help this poor witless child find her way over here.”

The assistant chuckled as she took the phone and attempted to explain directions.

“They’re trying to talk Eliza and Daisy in,” explained DJ as she rejoined the other girls. “And my grandmother sounds ticked.”

They continued practicing their runs on the catwalk. Between the advice from Grandmother, Dylan, and Ramona, DJ suddenly felt like she got it. Like it was starting to make sense.

“That’s beautiful,” called out Dylan as DJ made her final walk back. “Spot on, Desiree!” DJ gave him a slight nod and then told herself to think of this simply as an athletic event. Just like in swimming, volleyball, basketball, or soccer, she knew how to tell her body to do certain things in certain ways, to practice them enough, and just like in sports training, she eventually was able to
just do it
.

“Okay, let’s head for the dressing room now,” called out Dylan’s number-one design assistant, a short brunette named Camilla.

“What about the other girls?” complained Dylan. “Shouldn’t we — ”

“We can’t keep waiting on them,” said Camilla sharply. She looked at her watch. “We’re already running late now. We’re supposed to vacate by five, and the Maurice Bernard people are scheduled for six. We gotta keep it moving, Dylan.”

And so they did keep it moving. It wasn’t until the girls were into their second outfits that Eliza and Daisy finally showed up. Burdened down with shopping bags and complaining about their aching feet — no wonder since they both insisted on wearing their ridiculously uncomfortable designer shoes — the two girls both acted put out for their inconveniences.

“Get undressed,” Camilla commanded.

“I can’t believe we had to walk here!” Eliza tossed down her bags and kicked off her new red Manolo Blahnik shoes like they were trash — the same costly shoes she’d been bragging about at dinner last night.

“Well, I can’t believe it took us an hour to go a few blocks!” exclaimed Daisy as she peeled off her skirt. “Those were looong blocks!”

“I can’t believe you girls are
this
late,” said Camilla as she and the other wardrobe assistants worked to get Daisy and Eliza dressed.

“It’s not our fault this stupid town doesn’t have enough taxis,” snapped Eliza.

“You should have planned better,” Camilla snapped back at her. “We’re supposed to be out of here by five, and we’ll need to move fast if we want to get through a complete dress rehearsal now. You girls are wearing your third outfits now.

Everybody move fast!”

Although they moved as fast as they could, they were barely able to squeeze in one complete run through with three sets of wardrobe changes. By the time the lights and music went down, the Maurice Bernard people were already showing up — and complaining that Dylan’s group was stealing their time.

“We’re out of here,” Camilla snarled back at one of their design assistants. “Models, you go ahead and wear those outfits back to the studio. We’ll do our final adjustments and change there!” She shouted out orders to the rest of the crew, and poor Dylan hovered in a corner, looking like he was about to fall apart.

Grandmother went over to join him, consoling him and assuring him that all would be well by Monday’s preview show with the photographers. Meanwhile, everyone scrambled to gather their things and load up the vans and get out of the way before too many in the Maurice Bernard group went ballistic. One Bernard model had already cleared off a bench by sweeping the girls’ personal belongings into a heap on the floor.

“The fashion world waits for no one,” joked Taylor as the girls fished through the pile of clothes, shoes, and bags to pick out their own things.

“It’s only three minutes past five,” DJ pointed out as they dashed out to the loading area. “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

“Three minutes may not seem like much,” Grandmother breathlessly said after they were seated inside the limo, “but I’ve seen designers nearly come to fisticuffs over such trivialities before. Fashion is serious business.”

“I’m exhausted,” admitted DJ as she leaned back in the seat. “Who knew that modeling was like an Olympic event?”

“Models must be strong,” said Grandmother. Then she smiled. “You performed very well out there today, Desiree. As did you, Taylor. And all of you girls, for that matter.” She smiled at Rhiannon and Casey too. “I was proud of my girls.” She cleared her throat. “Rather, I was proud of most of them. Eliza has severely disappointed me.”

“She’ll get it together in time for the real show,” said Rhiannon.

“Let’s certainly hope so.” Grandmother opened her bag and pulled out her cell phone. “Now I must cancel our dinner reservation.”

“Why?”
asked DJ. All afternoon, she’d been looking forward to eating at the fancy five-star restaurant Grandmother had raved about. It was Italian and supposedly one of Manhattan’s best. Grandmother had made the reservation weeks ago.

“Because we’ll never make it there in time.”

“Thanks to Eliza,” whispered Casey as Grandmother made her call.

“Don’t make it any worse than it is,” Rhiannon quietly warned as Grandmother politely apologized for the inconvenience.

Taylor nodded. “Mrs. Carter has enough on her plate.”

“Looks like we’ll be calling room ser vice tonight,” said Grandmother.

“Can’t we find another restaurant?” asked DJ.

“Calling this late on a Saturday night?” Grandmother scowled. “And with a party of ten? Not any place I’d care to eat.”

So it was that the girls ate in their rooms.

“What a pathetic way to spend Saturday night in New York,” Eliza loudly complained from her room. It was well past nine by now, and DJ and Taylor were in their room along with Casey and Rhiannon. The nine girls had split into various rooms to watch different movies on pay-per-view. But the door adjoining the the other room was still open, and Eliza’s grumblings were hard to ignore.

“And whose fault is that?” called out Casey in an aggravated tone.

“New York taxi drivers,” said Eliza.

“Like Mrs. Carter keeps telling you,” said Rhiannon, “you can’t rely on taxis to get you anyplace on time.”

“That’s why one hires a limo,” Eliza shot back.

DJ turned up the volume on the TV and wished the girls would quit yelling.

“And that’s so easily done during Fashion Week.” Taylor’s tone was sarcastic as she picked up a fat copy of
InStyle
magazine and began flipping through.

“Thanks for that helpful little news flash,” said Eliza in her snootiest voice.

“You are oh so very welcome, Miss Eliza, dear,” called Taylor in a faux southern accent that sounded remarkably like Eliza’s.

When Eliza stuck her head into their room, DJ paused the movie and prepared herself to intervene. This was starting to sound like a real catfight. But to her surprise, Eliza was smiling. Okay, it wasn’t a sincere-looking smile. But it wasn’t exactly hostile either.

“Who wants to go out with me tonight?” Eliza was using her saccharine sweet tone now.

“I’ll go,” called Daisy from the other room.

“Anyone else want to catch some of that great city nightlife?” Eliza tried again. “Taylor, how about you?”