A Face To Die For (10 page)

'Of course I enjoy modelling; especially all the places it takes me to, but sometimes I long to slow things down a bit. Of course, Norm's taught me so much and I suppose I owe him my success. I'm always expected to do what
he
wants. I'd so love to decide things more for myself.' She sighed deeply, studying her crimson, polished nails before lifting her head.

'What do you mean?' I asked, sipping my coffee. I still felt a tad jealous of the amazing success she'd achieved so effortlessly, all due to Parker Brown. She really should demonstrate more gratitude in my opinion.

She pursed her lips petulantly. 'Take these shows. Norm would normally have disapproved, but fortunately he's had to be in Milan for a few days. So when my agent mentioned this two day job for Courtney’s was up for grabs, of
course
I agreed to do it. This time it was for
me
. Sounds awful, I know, but I long to be more my own person.'

I gazed enviously at her nails; each one so long, so red, and so beautifully manicured. 'I think I know what you mean,' I said, still mystified at her lack of appreciation for all Parker Brown had done for her. 'And of course it's wonderful that you can fit us in like this.

She smiled pensively. 'Oh, Annabel, I'm really happy to do it.'

I began studying a sample of vibrant deep emerald, slubbed silk. 'What do you think of this?'

She fingered it; the crimson of her nails against it suddenly reminding me of Christmas. 'It's lovely, why?'

'I like it too, but I'm always accused of choosing too many bright colours.'

She laughed. 'So what! I
love
strong colours.’

'That's settled then, if it gets past Edward, we'll use this for the ball gown.' I put the sample to one side. 'Incidentally, did you notice your photographs in reception from your last shoot?'

Her eyes lit up briefly. 'Yes, I did. Jake's a good photographer, though of course Norm would probably disagree. Don't get me wrong, Norm's a genius but he's so traditional in his choice of composition. Whenever possible I adore working with different photographers. It's wonderful to have a change.' She sighed. 'Norm was commissioned for
all
my
shoots over in Paris. It got so boring. I'm sure he fixes it.'

As I listened, I decided that perhaps after all Norman Parker Brown was a little too possessive and controlling of her. 'I imagine it must restrict you a bit,’ I murmured.

'It does … and
more
than a bit. Anyway, I'm hoping to be back in London a lot more from now on, so I hope to be able to fit in more work for you. I've told my booker that, and she knows all about you and I being at college together. It's been fab meeting up again like this, hasn't it?'

I smiled, nodding in agreement.

She continued, gazing intently at me, 'This job has been a great start for you, Annabel, but why on earth don't you branch out on your own now? So many new designers seem to be getting their big chances now and doing really well. You should too. You're a brilliant designer, but I sense you're not getting quite the free hand you'd like over things?' Her eyebrows raised, she pulled a face, 'Cheeky aren't I? I'm a fine one to be advising you about having more of a free hand!'

Yes, you are, I thought, considering your own status with Parker Brown!

'No, I agree,' I lied. 'And that
is
my goal ... my dream, when the time's right… and I
will
do it ... one day, you'll see.'

If only I could have
her
luck, I thought, with someone to help me on my way.

'And when you do, I shall most certainly model for you.'

'If Norm allows you to!' I laughed, and she nodded with a wry smile.

The man certainly seemed to rule her life. Taking all into account, I wasn't sure it was altogether healthy either for such a young woman to be tied to such a possessive, middle aged Svengali… simply because he had discovered her. They lived together, but I could imagine it wasn't an ideal relationship. Why
does
she stay with him, I wondered.

It was flattering however, that she felt an allegiance to me. And true to her word, Kate did fit in more work for us whenever she could after that.

*

Vanessa's wedding took place at Caxton Hall in the September despite strong pressure by her father to have a traditional Greek Orthodox ceremony. But Vanessa, with the enlisted help of her mother, managed to keep it basically an English civil marriage. Nevertheless, it still had all the fuss of a usual society wedding with pictures in
The Tatler
of course.

My workroom had created the dress she’d wanted, based on one of my earlier designs in ivory satin. She looked radiant; noticeably plumper around the waist and bust however; due to her being about four months pregnant by this time.

I attended of course; as did Alex ... accompanied by his wife. And what a bizarre experience
that
was ... meeting Susannah Karos face to face!

'So you’re the dress designah I've heard so murch about?' she gushed, in a lazy Texas drawl, knocking back her umpteenth vodka. 'That sure was a pretty weddin' dress. While I'm here I must see some more of your designs Annabeel. Can thet be arranged?'

'Yes, of course.' I smiled, whilst inwardly cringing. I could think of no one I'd hate to dress more! Short and plump, although when slimmer she might have once been called
petite,
she possessed the kind of dumpy figure I always found hell to accommodate. Beautifully styled natural blonde hair was just about her only asset as far as I could make out. With blue-grey liquor clogged eyes, a glass sat permanently in her hand. She also appeared to chain-smoke.

I prayed she'd forget we'd had this conversation.

Later on at the Dorchester reception, Vanessa pulled me to one side. 'Well, darling, you've now met the very ‘lurvely’ Susannah,' she drawled with a giggle, waggling her champagne glass. 'What do you think?' Her eyes were glassy.

'Well, not a lot, actually.'

'I told you, didn't I, darling, she's awful! I do wish Alex would come to his senses and leave her. They're barely man and wife any more. You and he are far more of a couple than they've ever been...
and
you're more suited!' Her voice had now become quite shrill.

I winced. 'Shh … someone might overhear you?'

'So what! It's about time everyone knew!'

'But Vanessa ...
please
!
' I realised that her well-lubricated tongue was running away with her. I quickly beckoned Rowley across and whispered my concerns. ‘Please take control of your wife. She's being a little too outspoken about Susannah…'

'Got the gist, old girl,' he said, whisking her off to ply her with some coffee. They then disappeared upstairs. I looked at my watch. Good, they'd soon be leaving for the airport. How I envied them their idyllic honeymoon - cruising the Greek Islands on her father's yacht.

Does Susannah know anything about Alex and me I wondered, glancing at them. Although physically together, they seemed distanced from each other. A very peculiar marriage if you ask me! That Susannah tolerated Alex being here in England so much of the time anyway; never joining him here, was the biggest mystery of all. Her only reason for being in London now was to attend Vanessa's wedding. Also for some odd reason she was staying in her own suite at the Grosvenor, where I
knew
Alex had only dined with her once. 'Don't worry about Susannah,' Alex had insisted. 'She won't give us any problems.'

As my eyes caught Alex's several times and he cast me secretive smiles, I became more intrigued than ever about their strange marital set up.

CHAPTER 7

The week following Vanessa's wedding I was on tenterhooks, constantly aware that Susannah Karos might ring at any time. Alex returned to the States for a few days and this coincided with the dreaded phone-call. Not from Susannah, but from her secretary. I took the call myself.

'Good morning, Miss Spencer! Mrs Karos wonders if it would be possible for you to bring a selection from your current collection to the Grosvenor for her to see?' She spoke with a pleasant, light trans-Atlantic accent.

'Certainly,' I said with false enthusiasm. 'When would be suitable, and would you like me to bring someone to model the garments?'

'Is tomorrow afternoon all right? And a model won't be necessary; I will model the clothes for Mrs Karos.'

'That's fine. What size should I bring?'

'Well, I'm a US eight; that's a size ten here, isn't it?'

'Yes, that's right ... any particular preferences in colour, or will Mrs Karos accept the shades I think might suit her?'

'You select, just as long as you bring a good choice. Thanks. So we'll see you tomorrow afternoon at say ... two o’clock?'

'Fine. I'll see you then.'

It was tricky knowing which designs would suit Susannah. Judging by the flouncy dress she'd worn for the wedding she looked to be at least size fourteen. I would need to select designs to flatter the shorter, fuller figure. Not easy.

Having previously not wanted to have anything to do with her, I was now becoming quite intrigued to learn more about my lover’s wife. Until now I'd felt fairly confident that she had no idea of my involvement with Alex. Although I wondered, might she be playing a little game; setting me up in some way?

Still, with Alex away it really was an ideal opportunity to suss her out. And what better cover could I wish for than showing her some of my current collection?

The following day Lynda and I selected and bagged fifteen size ten garments in the colours and styles I thought might suit Susannah. I also threw in a couple of size fourteen for By now I was having slight second thoughts about having this involvement with Susannah. What if the whole thing goes foul on me?

'I think you should come too, Lynda. I'll never be able to cope with all these on my own. Anyway, I could do with your moral support.' I grinned to cover my mild anxiety.

'Fine by me!' Lynda answered, bagging up the last garment. 'I'd love to meet Mrs Susannah Karos!'

'Good. You can also provide me with an impartial opinion of the woman. Since I'm in love with her husband, I can hardly do that, can I?'

'Not really,' Lynda chuckled.

In all honesty, my decision to take Lynda along was
entirely
for moral support; the thought of an afternoon spent with Alex's wife was pretty scary. Besides, I knew Lynda would be intrigued to meet her too. Although she'd never met Alex I'd confided in her about our affair. I was also relieved to be going to the hotel instead of Susannah calling in at the showroom. Luckily, Edward was off work for a few days too. I knew he didn't approve of my affair with Alex, a married man, not least because the man was Vanessa's half-brother. Although he'd never actually
voiced
his disapproval, I could tell by tiny barbed comments he often made to me. Also it was really made more apparent by his total lack of interest in my personal life these days.

The time Vanessa had let slip that I was seeing Alex; his face had been the epitome of utter displeasure. To be fair, I think his main fear was of the scandal it might generate, not just for me, but for the House of Courtney, should it get out.

I was, therefore, pleased this private showing for Susannah had not yet reached his ears. Admittedly with her figure, she would probably have been far wiser calling in at the main couture salon to see Edward's collection and have things made to measure. Nevertheless, I imagined time was of the essence and Ready-to-Wear garments could usually be altered in just a few days. I understood she was in London for perhaps only another week, and besides, she had especially requested to see
my
designs.

When the taxi arrived we piled in the bagged garments; leaving just enough room for Lynda and me, and a portable clothes rail.

At two o'clock on the dot, Susannah Karos's secretary opened wide the door of their Grosvenor Hotel suite. 'Hi! I'm Mel Robson Gray. Please come in.' The girl had a mop of untamed, titian curly hair, a mass of freckles and striking green eyes. I introduced Lynda, and we all shook hands before hauling the portable rail of garments through. Susannah stood in the doorway leading to the bedroom.

'Hi, Anna …beyl. Sure is good of you to come,' she drawled, waving a glass. Her heavy eyes and stance indicated to me it wasn't the first alcoholic drink she'd had that day.

'Good afternoon, Mrs Karos!' smiled Lynda, as I introduced her.

'Hi, Lynda. Hey, let's drop the formayl ...ities shay...ll we? I'm Susannah. Susie, to my frieynds. Mel, honey, get Anna...beyl and Lynda drinks, will you?'

'Actually we'd prefer tea or coffee, please... if it's not too much of a problem?' I enquired.