Champagne Kisses: A Timeless Love Story (12 page)

"That is for agreeing to meet with her. She is willing to pay double that for the original garment to be made to her specifications. As it is a custom fitting, she would like you to be there to do it," Mr. Martinez said. "If everything is satisfactory, she will consign more garments."

The check shook slightly in my hands, as though I were experiencing a small earthquake. "You said she's taken care of all the travel expenses?"

Mr. Martinez nodded. He had a slight smile, as though he were secretly amused by my reactions. "The flight is scheduled for tomorrow morning."

I looked up. This was too good an opportunity to miss. If nothing else, the fee for making her the dress would pay my rent for a while. If things went as well as my imagination was starting to think it could, I wouldn't need to worry about rent anymore.

"Well, Mr. Martinez, what kind of weather should I pack for?"

J
une 16
^th
, 1990

I gripped my sketchbook tightly, making sure for the third time that I still had the designs from the night before. I had no idea what Mrs. Saunders looked like, how far along in her pregnancy she was, or what her build might be. I had sketched out a couple more maternity designs, but without meeting her, I didn't want to create too many, but I needed enough to impress.

Mr. Martinez walked calmly in front of me, easily navigating the huge apartment building as we headed toward what he called "Mrs. Saunders' sun-room". The apartment was huge; bigger than what I would consider a house. I had a feeling the oil business, at least for the Saunders and DS Oil and Gas, was doing well.

I was trying my very best not to be overwhelmed by everything, and I felt like I was doing a pretty good job. Mr. Martinez and I had arrived by a private plane and then drove straight into the city to the Saunders' household. I couldn't wait to go out and explore the city after my interview. The buildings had called out to me, the streets singing that I was in the right place. I had been here less than an hour, and I already loved New York.

Mr. Martinez knocked politely on a beautiful wooden door. A female voice called for us to come in, and Mr. Martinez opened the heavy door. I followed his steps, trying to exude as much confidence as I could muster. At least I felt dressed for the occasion. I was wearing my most recent design for myself: slate gray dress pants with a matching vest over a dress shirt. It was based off of a traditional men's suit, but fit to flare out and highlight femininity. It seemed appropriate attire for meeting with a powerful woman.

A petite blonde woman stood gracefully. She was just starting her pregnancy, a gentle curve beginning to grace her middle. I smiled inwardly; I knew my senior project would look amazing on her tiny frame.

"Mrs. Saunders, let me introduce Rachel Weber," Mr. Martinez presented me as I walked into the room. I held out my hand, making eye contact with my future employer.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I said politely. Mrs. Saunders shook my hand with a strength that surprised me. Her brown eyes looked me up and down, measuring and weighing me better than any tailor I had ever met. There was a steel in her look that impressed me. It was clear this woman always got what she wanted.

"Ms. Weber, it's a pleasure to meet you in person. Thank you, Edward, that will be all." The blonde woman never took her eyes off of me as she dismissed Mr. Martinez. I heard him close the door quietly behind him as he left. "Please, sit down, Ms. Weber. Tell me about yourself. What inspired you to design this piece?"

Mrs. Saunders sat on an upholstered loveseat, offering me a position in a matching chair. I sat carefully, mindful of my posture. It seemed like posture would matter to this woman. The room was decorated with a feminine, yet incredibly practical, theme.

I took a deep breath and began talking. "Well, I just graduated with my degree in fashion and design..."

"I don't need your resume, I already have that," she cut me off. I swallowed and took a moment to evaluate my situation and try again to present my best self. I glanced around the room, taking it in and forming her personality in my mind based off of the design. The uncomfortable upholstered furniture told me that appearances mattered to this woman. She wore a designer sweater and dress pants, but the seams were struggling to support her growing middle.
She wants to keep up appearances.
Her ring was a simple diamond solitaire that couldn't have cost more than a couple hundred dollars.
She hadn't always been rich, but the ring must be sentimental. She loves her husband,
I thought. Several photos on the wall caught my attention; they were of a small boy playing with a smiling man I assumed was her husband. She was pregnant with her second child, then.

"My dad died when I was little, and my mom died when I was in high school," I started. "My aunt finished raising me, but she was more of a friend than a guardian since she was only a few years older than I was. Last summer, she got pregnant with her first child. She hated maternity clothes. She has a figure very similar to yours, and everything was incredibly baggy and loose. Ugly floral patterns, awful stretchy denim with no pockets, and jumpers designed to fit a whale. It was terrible." I paused for a moment, catching my breath.

"Go on," she said, a slight smile pulling on her lips. If she was looking for maternity wear, she knew the fashion horrors I was referencing.

"She had a big party for her husband's job," I continued. "She was ready to pretend to be sick so she didn't have to wear the only dress she could find that would fit, despite it making her look like a giant balloon. I love my aunt. So, as a surprise, I made her a dress."

I smiled at the memory of my aunt's amazed expression and the tears of joy that had streamed down her face when I showed her the dress I made her. She had hugged me like I was the biggest hero in the world. The next day she had come over to my house with brownies, raving about how everyone couldn't stop complimenting her dress. She said she felt beautiful for the first time in months.

"It was just a simple black dress, but I designed it to bring out what was beautiful about her. Even though she was pregnant, she didn't have to feel huge and out of place. She loved it. It became the basis for my senior design piece." I couldn't decide what to do with my hands as I finished, so I simply folded them on the top of my design notebook and waited for Mrs. Saunders' response.

"So, your senior design is what your aunt wore?" Mrs. Saunders frowned slightly, as though I were trying to pass off something used as new.

"Oh no, I didn't mean to imply that," I said quickly. "The design for my aunt was simply the starting point. I didn't even mean for the idea to go anywhere, but once I started brainstorming things for her, I couldn't stop. The design I submitted for my senior project has never been worn. My aunt gave me feedback about what she liked and disliked about the dress, and then I added my own twist."

I held up the dress and pointed to parts of it. "The fabric, the collar, the sleeves, the length, and the back are all different. If you held the two dresses up, the only real similarity is that they are both designed for a pregnant woman," I said. Mrs. Saunders clearly wanted something unique, and I chewed nervously on the inside of my lip. I didn't want to screw this up.

"I see." Mrs. Saunders nodded, her face revealing nothing. Sweat trickled down my spine. I couldn't afford to miss out on this opportunity. "Do you have more designs like it, or is it the only one of its kind?"

I grinned and opened my sketchbook. This is where I knew I would shine. I crossed the small space between us and knelt on the floor before her, flipping to my newest designs. She raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me as I began pointing out the designs. My excitement surprised her.

"I have several designs here for different stages of a pregnancy. This one is more for the beginning stages, just when things are starting to fit differently, and then this one," I turned the page and pointed to a drawing of a very pregnant woman in a flowing dress, "this one is for the last couple of weeks."

"May I?" Mrs. Saunders asked, reaching for the sketchbook. I nodded and handed it up to her.

"These are just some initial drawings. I would love to make some that are personalized to you and your tastes." I held my breath as she leafed through the drawings. A soft smile started to form on her face. She looked over, her brown eyes warming as the smile took hold.

"I would love to see more. I especially like this one," she said pointing to a flowing gown in emerald green. "But, I will need business appropriate attire as well."

"I actually have some ideas. Here." I flipped several pages to a series of woman's business suits. They weren't originally designed for maternity, so I hadn't showed them to her yet. "If I modify the seams here, it would look fantastic throughout a pregnancy."

"What about this one?" she asked, pointing to a smart-looking skirt and tight blouse. I frowned slightly.

"I'm not sure I can make that one work once you hit the second trimester. I can make anything fit, but with the cut and shape of the skirt, it would look like I stuffed you into it. If you want it, I'll make it, but I don't think you'll be pleased with the outcome," I answered honestly. Her smile grew a little bit bigger.

"Thank you for being honest. I had to fire my last designer because she said everything looked good, even when it didn't. I need to look professional, not tacky. I help my husband run this business, and I can't let this pregnancy slow me down." She sighed and looked over at the pictures of the little boy on her wall. "When I had Jack, I didn't care what I wore. I was just so excited to be having a child. I look back at those pictures and wonder how anyone took me seriously. With the current market the way it is, I don't have that luxury this time."

A knock on the door interrupted whatever she was going to say next. Mr. Martinez poked his head in. "Mrs. Saunders, you're three-o'clock is here," he said softly. Mrs. Saunders nodded and he closed the door carefully behind him.

"Well, Ms. Weber, I think that this will work out wonderfully. I'll have Edward set up an appointment for the two of us so we can get measurements and go over my preferences as well as payment." Mrs. Saunders stood up slowly, and I followed her example.

"I'll make up some more design ideas. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Saunders, and I look forward to seeing you again." I shook her hand and she smiled warmly.

"Likewise," she said as she walked me to the door. I thanked her again and stepped out into the hallway, letting out a huge sigh of relief once the door closed.

She liked my designs. She wanted me to design more for her. A giddy rush of happiness consumed me and it took all my will power not to dance and sing as Mr. Martinez led me back out to the street and into a waiting car. I was in New York City, and I was going to be designing clothing! This was more than I could have hoped for.

J
une 16
^th
, 1990

Down at street level, I got into the waiting car and stared out the window. The driver was silent as I headed back to my hotel, and my mind was on designs rather than the giant buildings when something caught my eye. A young boy, about five or six years old, was walking resolutely along the sidewalk. He stopped, setting down a brightly-wrapped present, and pulled out an oversized map, his small face frowning as he tried to read it. The boy obviously was trying to get somewhere to deliver the gift, but I couldn't see an adult with him. I watched him for a moment as we sat at a light, wondering why he looked vaguely familiar.

I gasped as it hit me where I had seen the boy before. He was the laughing child in the pictures on Mrs. Saunders' wall. His mother would be worried sick if she knew he was out on the streets of New York by himself.

"Stop the car!" I shouted, unbuckling my seat-belt and practically lunging for the door. The driver looked back at me in surprise, but quickly pulled to the side of the road. Luckily, the street wasn't very busy, and he was able to find a spot.

"Are you Jack Saunders?" I asked, hurrying over to the blonde-headed boy. He looked up from the map, determination and just a little bit of fear in his big eyes. He nodded.

"Who are you?" he asked. His little voice didn't tremble, but he puffed out his chest and stood taller, trying to be bigger than he was. The warm wind ruffled his blonde hair, giving him a defiant look.

"My name's Rachel. Your mom just hired me to make her some clothes," I answered honestly. "Are you lost?"

"You're the lady who made the dress she likes?" he asked, looking up at me. His small mouth was pinching up on one side as he evaluated me. He must have decided I was trustworthy because he pointed to his map and said, "I'm trying to get to my dad's office."

"Okay. Can I help you?" I asked, crouching down to be on his level. His big eyes somehow got even bigger as he nodded. He was doing a good job of not being afraid, but he knew he had bitten off more than he could chew. He handed me the map, his eyes watching me cautiously to make sure I didn't run off with it.

I took the map from his small hands, turning it right side up, and looked at it carefully. Circled in red crayon was an intersection where I assumed was his father's office building was located. He pointed at the circle and looked over at me.

"That's Daddy's office. I have a present for him. Yesterday was Father's Day, but he was busy at work, so I didn't get to give him my present. Mommy said I could go see him today, but then she got busy, so I am doing it myself." He gave me a toothy grin. "Daddy's going to love my present. I worked really hard on it."

I grinned right back at him and folded up the map. "How about we let my driver take us? This looks like a pretty long walk from here."

He looked over at the car, picked up his present, and hurried over to the passenger door. I made a mental note to mention to Mrs. Saunders how easily I had convinced him to come with me. Five minutes was all it took and I loved the kid already. I found myself grinning as I walked toward the car, the little boy's excitement infectious.