Chapter 20
LA FA?ON, MANHATTAN
As soon as Luca saw that Sybille was in his workspace he ducked away from the door and tried to about-turn. However, his shoes squeaked on the parquet and the game was up.
‘Mr Manning.’
He took a breath and faced Sybille, adjusting his jacket as well as his inner demeanour as he entered the room. ‘Sybille.’
‘We have things to discuss. As you well know.’ She paused before continuing. ‘So, do you want to talk about Mr Torres first? Or perhaps you would like to start with telling me why you are dressing Ms Felix out of that awful emporium and not with brands we have established connections with.’
Luca really began to consider which option would be better to begin with, but before he could decide, Sybille had continued.
‘And do you know how I know that you have been to Errol?’
‘Because you know everything, Sybille.’
‘Yes, but no. Because Errol told Mack this afternoon!’
Luca let this information sink in. All of it. ‘Sybille,’ he began. ‘You went for an afternoon hotdog. At Mack’s truck.’
‘That is not the point!’ She waved a hand in the air. ‘Errol is telling people that one of my stylists is going to him for assistance. It does not look good.’
‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ Luca said. ‘You told me yourself you eat from Mack’s when things get too much.’
‘I have told you too much, obviously. And, stop, I am leading this investigation and it is not about my eating habits.’
‘Investigation?’ Luca said, putting his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
‘Luca—’
‘I don’t know what you want me to say,’ he replied. ‘There was no inspiration here. I curated three outfits. None of them were right. I needed something else. I don’t know what. Perhaps just a change of scene.’
‘And, tonight, Ms Felix is going on TV wearing something you concocted from that underground bordello?’
‘Sybille, you know Errol’s good. He just never wanted to conform. But, you show me someone better at cutting cloth and dressmaking.’
‘Why are you so difficult? Here we have access to clothes people would kill for.’
He swallowed. ‘And maybe that’s some of the problem.
In this scenario at least.’ He took a breath.
‘I followed my gut on this, Sybille. And you were the one that told me I should do that. Do you remember the first time?’ He pointed, then moved in that direction.
‘We were standing here, looking across to that building, the offices. And you asked me to re-style one guy we could see in his too-tight pants. You called him a “biscuit picture” – everything beige.’
‘I remember, Mr Manning. I am not senile.’ She moved to stand next to him now, looking at the view again, the sky starting to darken.
‘Well,’ Luca said. ‘When I got Gabriella Felix in this room, it was like all the clothes turned into a biscuit picture and she deserved more than that.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know what else to tell you.’
‘And Benoit Torres?’
‘Was drunk,’ Luca replied. ‘Became violent.’
‘You hit him on the back of the head with a full water bottle?’
Luca nodded. ‘Ah, that’s what he’s saying, is it?’
‘Are you telling me that didn’t happen?’
‘I asked him to leave. He didn’t want to listen.’
‘Well,’ Sybille said. ‘He is now listening to advice from NYCing. We lost the client.’
‘Good,’ Luca said. ‘Now I do not have to worry about you dressing him when he’s more angry and more drunk.’
‘No, Luca, not good. We have many clients attached to his film studio. And, if there is one thing we both know about Mr Torres, he talks almost as much as your friend, Errol.’
Luca sighed. OK, the situation wasn’t ideal but he was certain, if Sybille had witnessed Benoit’s behaviour she would certainly be more sympathetic. ‘OK, I understand.’
‘You are lucky he’s not pressing charges,’ Sybille continued.
Luca held his tongue. There was nothing to be gained by adding any narrative on this topic. ‘So, now do you want to tell me why you were eating Mack’s hotdogs today?’
‘No,’ Sybille answered, roughly. ‘And I want you not to mention it again. Because I am your boss, Mr Manning. Are we clear?’
Something was wrong. This wasn’t like Sybille at all. There was raw emotion being very poorly repressed. But, for now, he had to let it go. ‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘We’re clear.’
‘Good. So, tonight, make sure Ms Felix goes on Zeeta Friedmann feeling confident in what she’s wearing and ensure that no one has anything but good things to say about La Facon. No surprises, Mr Manning.’
She whisked away from him and he was left with a weight on his shoulders – about Zeeta Friedmann’s talk show and his mother’s birthday dinner. But, the good news was, it couldn’t get any worse, right?