Ciao (11 page)

And then, like a knight on a white horse, Dylan showed up and rescued her with an engagement ring. But we later learned that his design firm was having a serious struggle. His reception in Paris had gone from poor to positive due to my sister, but the critics had turned on him shortly after his show, and getting engaged to a fashionista like Paige gave him a nice PR boost. So what if both of their motives were more about convenience than love?

Milan is amazing! The architecture, the
gardens, the river, the light — it’s all a photographer’s paradise. But by the end of my “free” day I am so tired I feel like I can barely focus my eyes, let alone my camera lens. By the time I drag myself back to the hotel, I’m so exhausted that I can’t even remember my room number. I actually call my mom from the elevator, waking her up to find out which floor to get out on.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she tells me. “At least I can sleep more soundly now.”

When I get to our suite, to my surprise Paige is already there, and looks as beat as I am. She’s already in her pajamas, with a partially-eaten room-service meal in front of her. “I know it’s early,” she tells me. “But I plan to crash any minute now.” She points to the food. “And I ordered way too much, so if you’re interested, have at it.”

I take her up on the offer. As she heads for bed, I polish off her leftover dinner of pasta and shrimp, which is
delicious. Then I take a shower and am in bed at just a little past seven—and Paige is already fast asleep.

I wake up early the next morning, pull on some sweats, and head downstairs to get some espresso. Sitting outside at the veranda restaurant, enjoying the beautiful morning light, I decide that I totally love Milan. I check my phone and am surprised to hear a voicemail from Blake.

“Hey, Erin,” he says. “Sorry I missed seeing you off yesterday. I really meant to make it over to tell you good-bye. I hope you’re having a great time in Milan. I can’t help but feel envious. Maybe I’ll see if we can arrange some international blind dates.” He laughs. “Have fun!”

Since I think it must be late at night there now, I send him a text, telling him that we’re here and that I love Milan. I try to think of something more to say, but suddenly I’m replaying Mollie’s words about Blake and Grace. How would I feel if they started to date? The thought of that just shuts me down, so I hit send and put my iPhone back in my bag. I check out the menu and have just placed my order when I see my mom coming out to the veranda.

“There you are,” she says as she comes over to my table. “I was hoping you were down here.” She sits across from me. “Isn’t this absolutely lovely?”

I nod. “Great hotel, Mom.”

She smiles. “I could get used to this.”

“So, what’s on the docket this morning?” I ask as she peruses the menu.

“Well, you’ve heard of that new Italian designer, Alberto Baggatio, haven’t you?”

I try to remember then nod. “Yes. He used to be with Gucci, right?”

“Yes. That’s right.” She pauses to place her breakfast order and I’m impressed that her Italian is not too bad. “So anyway, we’ve got an interview appointment with him at his studio. His show is Saturday, so he’s busy, but his people seemed happy to squeeze us in at eleven o’clock. As a result we’ll have to keep it short. I promised them it would take less than an hour.”

I glance at my watch, surprised to see it’s only seven thirty.

“Shawna and Luis should be at the hotel by nine,” she tells me. “And we’ll leave here around ten thirty. The Baggatio studio is only about fifteen minutes from here.”

“Sounds good.”

“I made sure Paige was up. I know how much time she needs to get ready.” “Great.”

I tell Mom about the conversation I had with Paige yesterday and my concerns about her and Dylan. “I wasn’t trying to be preachy,” I explain, “but I am worried that she’s opening herself up to be hurt again.”

Mom frowns. “Do you have any real reason to think that Dylan isn’t sincere about their engagement?”

I tell her a bit about the critical fallout after the Paris show and how Dylan’s design career seems to be failing. “You have to admit that it was convenient publicity for him to link himself to Paige.”

“Yes … but he seemed so sincere in New York. I hoped all that would be behind us now.”

“Maybe it is.” We pause our conversation as our food is served. I almost wish I hadn’t mentioned anything about Paige and Dylan at all. Really, why should I care so much? They have to live their own lives.

“I wish Jon could see this place,” Mom says wistfully.

“It’s really romantic, isn’t it?”

She smiles as she reaches for her espresso. “Very.”

“I was just texting Blake about it. I told him I think I’m in love with Milan.”

“Speaking of Blake …” She looks curiously at me. “I can never figure you two out. Are you still seriously dating him or not? I know that whole
Celebrity Blind Date
show kind of shook you up.”

“They could’ve called it
Blindsided
as far as I was concerned,” I admit.

She shakes her head. “It seemed an odd idea to me — sending you and him on a double date, but not as a couple.”

“And that other girl—her name’s Grace—she pretty much dominated the whole evening. Not in a bad way either. In fact, she reminded me a little of Paige —you know, with that gift of charm and beauty that I don’t have.”

“Sounds frustrating.”

“It was. Before I left for this trip Mollie asked me how I’d feel if Blake started to date Grace. I mean, outside the show.” “How would you feel?”

I’m surprised that I’ve opened up this much with Mom. But since I’ve already gotten this far, I decide it probably doesn’t matter. “Well, I was just thinking about it. I think I would feel a little bit sad.”

“For so long you’ve said that you and Blake were only good friends, Erin. Have you really changed your opinion on that? Or do you think it’s a case of wanting something that someone else wants?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. Even before Grace came along, I was starting to think I might be ready for a more serious
relationship with Blake. I mean, he’s asked about being exclusive before, but I always kind of blew him off.” Then I confess to her how I’d hoped that he was going to bring it up again awhile back. “He’d called to say he had something important to talk about.”

“And you thought he was going to ask about being exclusive?”

I nod. “It was silly, I know. Especially considering how I’ve acted. When I realized he only wanted to talk about the new reality show, I was kind of hurt.”

Mom laughs, but not in a mean way. “I’m sorry, Erin.”

I force a smile. “I’m sure I deserved it.”

“So … if he’d asked, what would you have said?”

“Honestly?” I consider this. “I think I might’ve said yes. That’s why it hurt so much.”

She pats my hand. “You know, I’m glad to hear that, Erin.”

I blink. “Huh?”

“Not the part about you getting hurt. The part about you being willing to commit.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I’ve wondered if you were going to have some commitment issues.”

“Commitment issues?” Although I feign surprise, this is something I’ve actually wondered about myself.

“Well, I know that losing your dad was hard on you.” She sighs. “It was hard on all of us. Then you and Blake were so serious throughout high school, and when he broke your heart … well, I worried that you were kind of pushing other guys away too. Like Lionel. He seemed to really like you. And Paige told me about the young man in Paris —the one from Hermès?”

I smile. “Gabin.”

“Yes. Paige thought you really liked him and she said she thought he was smitten with you. But you pushed him away too.”

“That was because Blake showed up,” I admit. “Aha.” Mom grins. “So perhaps you like Blake more than you realized.”

“Maybe.” I shrug, trying to figure this out, and wondering why it’s so hard. “But Gabin’s awfully nice too.”

“Will he be here this week?”

“Good question. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“We’re scheduled for the Hermès show,” Mom tells me as she checks her notebook. “In fact, it’s tomorrow afternoon.”

“Well, maybe you’ll get to meet Gabin then.”

“I hope so.”

We finish our breakfast and run into Luis and Shawna on our way to the elevator. “Nice digs,” Shawna says as we ride up.

“How’s your place?” I ask as we walk through the elegant lobby.

“Not bad.” She wrinkles her nose. “But not as posh as this.”

Soon Paige and I are being coiffed and made up, and Leah and Mom are going over today’s schedule.

“Why is the visit to Gucci scheduled so late in the day?” Paige asks.

“They wanted to do it after hours,” Leah explains.

Paige makes a disappointed face. “But I made dinner plans with Dylan.”

“Then you’ll have to change them,” Mom tells her. “Your first priority here is the show, Paige.”

“I know.”

“When did Dylan arrive?” I ask as Luis gives me a quick mist of hairspray and then fluffs my hair. “He gets here this afternoon.”

“We have you girls scheduled to attend his show on Friday,” Leah points out.

“And there’s the Louis Vuitton after-party tonight,” Mom reminds us. “I’m sure you can spend time with Dylan there.”

“What time is the Louis Vuitton show?” Paige asks.

“Right after the Ricci show,” Mom tells her. “It’ll be a busy afternoon.”

“It’ll be a busy week,” Leah clarifies.

The Baggatio studio is surprisingly calm considering that their show is just days away. We do the usual studio tour, and then we’re introduced to Alberto Baggatio. He greets both of us then turns to Paige with a big smile. “I am so pleased to meet you, Miss Forrester,” he says as he takes her hand.

“Please, call me Paige.”

“Then you must call me Alberto,” he says as the three of us sit down in the leather chairs in his office. “I am so impressed with your fashion sense. I have seen your show and you are wise beyond your years. I would be pleased to have someone with such a fine-tuned sense of style in my studio.”

“Thank you.” She crosses her legs then leans forward. “And I am a great admirer of yours, Alberto. I’ve been following your career for some time now.”

“Then I must ask. Did you come to my show in Paris?”

She nods. “I did. And not only did I love your line, but I was very impressed with your selection of models.”

He chuckles. “There was a mixed reaction to that.”

Paige turns to me now. “Alberto featured models that look like real women,” she explains. “Including Laetitia Casta, Bar
Rafaeli, and Adriana Lima. Beautiful women, but not your typical runway models. And I believe you had Elle Macpherson as well.”

“Some say I copied Marc Jacobs,” he admits. “I say imitation is the highest form of flattery.” “I agree.”

“Marc started something admirable. I am only trying to continue the tradition.”

“Will you continue it in Milan?”

He nods. “I love using models who look like real women. I love curves on a woman’s body. It’s what I design for.”

Okay, I’m really impressed now. “I think that’s wonderful,” I tell him. “I get concerned when so many of the fashion images we see are stick-thin models. That’s not at all what most women look like.”

“I am in agreement. Oh, I understand how tall, thin models make some clothes look good. But I say if you cannot design clothes that look good on real women, why design clothes at all?”

“I love that,” I tell him.

He smiles and leans back. “And it is because I love women. I truly love women—women of all shapes and sizes and colors.” He holds up a finger. “It is my opinion that not all designers love women. I think some designers love their clothing more than they love their women.”

“I think you’re absolutely right,” I say with enthusiasm. “Some designers see women as something to display their fashions on, like a coat hanger — not as real people with real lives and real needs.”

“Ah, so you are the realist sister.” He nods and turns to Paige. “And you are the romantic?”

“That’s fairly accurate,” Paige admits. “But we rub off on each other.”

“Rub off?” He frowns.

“We influence each other,” I say. “I try to get Paige to think more realistically and she tries to get me to loosen up.”

He laughs. “Is a good combination.”

We talk awhile longer, then, as promised, we end the interview within the hour. “Thank you so much for taking time to visit with us,” Paige tells him. “I know our viewers are going to love hearing your thoughts on fashion.”

“And on real women,” I add.

We wrap it up and, as usual whenever we do these kinds of interviews, Alberto invites us to go with his assistant and do some “shopping” in his show room. “I would be proud to have my clothes worn by such lovely young women.” He tips his head in a bow. “Now, if you will please excuse me.”

“Alberto Baggatio is perfectly delightful,” I say to Paige as we’re leaving the studio. “I’ve become a real fan.”

She chuckles. “I thought you’d like him.”

Next we do the Nina Ricci show, arriving just in time to get our seats before the show begins. The styles remind me a bit of Rhiannon’s designs, which I mention to Paige. “You’re right,” she says in surprise, like she can’t believe I’ve been paying that much attention. And there is a similarity in the styles—the use of lace, ruffles, and other interesting feminine touches. The color scheme, except for pops of yellow, is rather neutral.

Afterward, Paige is able to get some words with chief designer Peter Copping. She compliments him on what seems to have been a highly successful show. And he opens up and tells her some of the thoughts behind his inspirations.

“Well, I think you’re just brilliant,” she tells him. “The way you carry on the Ricci tradition is superb. I’m sure Maria would be quite pleased.”

He smiles as he thanks her. “And you will come to our after-party tonight?”

“We’ll try to drop by,” she says. “Thank you so much for taking time to speak to me.”

He takes her hand and kisses it. “A pleasure.”

As we walk away I quietly ask her if she got the name wrong. “Wasn’t it
Nina
Ricci? I think you said Maria.”

“Her name was also Maria—Nina was a nickname.”

I nod. It figures Paige would know this.

Next we go to the Louis Vuitton show. A year ago, all I knew about Louis Vuitton was that the company made handbags and luggage. But watching the fashions on the runway today, I realize that this is a style I can embrace. In a way these styles are similar to Baggatio’s; they seem like real clothes for real women. I see flowing skirts, fitted jackets, and quality fabrics — very classic and stylish. They remind me of some of the clothes my favorite old movie icons wore in the forties. I think I would enjoy wearing these clothes.