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4 Days
by Guest Sat Mar 21, 2009 3:56 am
“Antoinette Marie Coeur de Lion! If you don’t stop changing this shit I am going to kick your ass!” Tilden threw the garment down he was working on. “I am not doing this. I’m not catering to your little creative hissy fit, or whatever it is you’re doing right now. Make up your mind and leave it made, or I’m going to take my shit and go.”
“Tilllllden. You wouldn’t do that.” He might, she thought, but she wouldn’t let him. “Look, I know you’re stressed. But this is so important to me. Do you want more people?” She grabbed her phone.
“I don’t want more people Antoinette! Stop throwing money at this. You can't fix it that way. And you can’t change the entire show four days out.”
She’d never be able to explain it, but she’d had another dream. No Quinton this time, but it was still 1700s France. And a woman was talking to her; something about ley lines. It didn’t matter what the deadline was now, Antoinette was intrigued, and the woman, and the dream were speaking to her. She wanted the vision represented in her clothing.
“You believe in me, right? This is something I have to do creatively. I’ll cancel the entire show if I have to. That’s how important this new direction is to me. I know it all looks chaotic right now, but it will work. You have to trust me. These are the last changes.”
“Tone, they have to be. I have models coming in two days to start fitting.”
“I know. I promise. Except… we have to recast. We’re going to need boys now.”
“Yes, I see that…”
***
After she settled Tilden back in to his comfort zone, Antoinette tried to get back into hers.
She’d already sent for comps on male models from the agency, and they’d put together a webpage for her so she could pick her 15 and alternatives before she went to sleep this morning. Then Tilden would have confirmations and sizes by mid-day tomorrow. And, she had handled several phone interviews early in the evening after waking, carefully explaining the show on Monday would be couture only: no ready-to-wear or Lash retail brand would be represented. She didn’t want anyone freaking out since this would be very different than usual. She could tell the press was starting to grow tired of the late evening restrictions on her interviews, so she checked through mountains of email responses to the job she’d posted. Lots of responses, but very few “qualified” responses. Antoinette flagged three who seemed interesting, promising to make this a priority for Tuesday.
A thought crossed her mind... She could just forget all this stress and do what Quinton had threatened to do, she mused. Sell the whole damn business. How easy it would be to live the life of a Princess? Move to Europe. Buy a castle. Meet a Prince. Fall in love. Antoinette got a little choked up. She was being stupid about the Prince and castle and all, but she truly was lonely. She wanted someone to share her bed during the day. And her experiences at night. This was all taking a big toll on her. Sometimes she felt like she was going nuts herself. This made her laugh out loud and Tilden looked at her suspiciously, so she quieted down. She wondered if they made antidepressants for Kindred. And then wondered if that fit into Lady Dupree’s creed of keeping your emotions in check…
Enough daydreaming. She needed to forward the artwork and database for the invitations and flyers to the temp agency along with instructions on how to handle them. She’d talk Tilden into overseeing it, even though he’d be pissed.
She handed him an envelope with instructions and payment. “OK, Til, can you please run this by the PR agency tomorrow morning? I have to run over to Quinton’s to finalize some details and I don’t know if you’ll still be here when I get back.
“Are you kidding me? I thought you were “finalizing details” all day with him!”
“Uh, no. We were having sex all day. Remember? Now I actually have to do some work.” She smiled, ducked out of his punch, and gave him a kiss. Then she and Zero were out the door, still completing txts as she walked down to the waiting driver.
“Tilllllden. You wouldn’t do that.” He might, she thought, but she wouldn’t let him. “Look, I know you’re stressed. But this is so important to me. Do you want more people?” She grabbed her phone.
“I don’t want more people Antoinette! Stop throwing money at this. You can't fix it that way. And you can’t change the entire show four days out.”
She’d never be able to explain it, but she’d had another dream. No Quinton this time, but it was still 1700s France. And a woman was talking to her; something about ley lines. It didn’t matter what the deadline was now, Antoinette was intrigued, and the woman, and the dream were speaking to her. She wanted the vision represented in her clothing.
“You believe in me, right? This is something I have to do creatively. I’ll cancel the entire show if I have to. That’s how important this new direction is to me. I know it all looks chaotic right now, but it will work. You have to trust me. These are the last changes.”
“Tone, they have to be. I have models coming in two days to start fitting.”
“I know. I promise. Except… we have to recast. We’re going to need boys now.”
“Yes, I see that…”
***
After she settled Tilden back in to his comfort zone, Antoinette tried to get back into hers.
She’d already sent for comps on male models from the agency, and they’d put together a webpage for her so she could pick her 15 and alternatives before she went to sleep this morning. Then Tilden would have confirmations and sizes by mid-day tomorrow. And, she had handled several phone interviews early in the evening after waking, carefully explaining the show on Monday would be couture only: no ready-to-wear or Lash retail brand would be represented. She didn’t want anyone freaking out since this would be very different than usual. She could tell the press was starting to grow tired of the late evening restrictions on her interviews, so she checked through mountains of email responses to the job she’d posted. Lots of responses, but very few “qualified” responses. Antoinette flagged three who seemed interesting, promising to make this a priority for Tuesday.
A thought crossed her mind... She could just forget all this stress and do what Quinton had threatened to do, she mused. Sell the whole damn business. How easy it would be to live the life of a Princess? Move to Europe. Buy a castle. Meet a Prince. Fall in love. Antoinette got a little choked up. She was being stupid about the Prince and castle and all, but she truly was lonely. She wanted someone to share her bed during the day. And her experiences at night. This was all taking a big toll on her. Sometimes she felt like she was going nuts herself. This made her laugh out loud and Tilden looked at her suspiciously, so she quieted down. She wondered if they made antidepressants for Kindred. And then wondered if that fit into Lady Dupree’s creed of keeping your emotions in check…
Enough daydreaming. She needed to forward the artwork and database for the invitations and flyers to the temp agency along with instructions on how to handle them. She’d talk Tilden into overseeing it, even though he’d be pissed.
She handed him an envelope with instructions and payment. “OK, Til, can you please run this by the PR agency tomorrow morning? I have to run over to Quinton’s to finalize some details and I don’t know if you’ll still be here when I get back.
“Are you kidding me? I thought you were “finalizing details” all day with him!”
“Uh, no. We were having sex all day. Remember? Now I actually have to do some work.” She smiled, ducked out of his punch, and gave him a kiss. Then she and Zero were out the door, still completing txts as she walked down to the waiting driver.
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