Betrayed - By Ellie Jones Page 0,2
know what else to do; there was no ‘Plan B’. He felt a surge of irritation as he watched Eduardo study his fingernails. It was as if this was nothing instead of the biggest thing to happen in Rafael’s life. He said, “I wanted this to be my scene, my bit. Up until now, I’ve been at Papá’s beck and call. I want to prove to him that I can hack it on my own.”
“So it’s your way of looking for praise from Papá?”
“I want to show him I’m worth something.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?”
Rafael stared him out. He eventually said, “Damn you!”
Eduardo shook his head. “Do you honestly think you can feed me bullshit?”
“I wouldn’t…”
“Do you know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking maybe you just want to sneak behind your Papá’s back and steal the show for yourself. You want to set up in competition and…”
“I wouldn’t…”
Eduardo raised his hand to silence him. “And you want me to sponsor it.”
“But it wouldn’t be competition. Don’t you see? It would be a business venture in its own right. Papá doesn’t go for that sort of thing. He likes a quick turnover.”
“Not from what I understand. He deals in quality stuff. That’s not quick turnover.”
The problem was, Papá had flatly refused, said it wasn’t worth the effort, said if the company were in such a bad way, the stuff couldn’t be up to much. Rafael took a deep breath, no use telling lies. “Look…” he said. “Papá simply isn’t interested, and you know what he’s like once he’s made his mind up.”
He stuck his hands in his pockets, walked stiffly to the huge window and stared morosely. He watched Eduardo’s reflection in the window.
“That says it all then doesn’t it? If he shows no interest, why should I?”
“You’re not backing me then?”
Eduardo shook his head. “I guess not.”
“That’s that, is it?”
“I guess so.”
Rafael spun on his heels and walked to the door. He’d show him, he’d show them all. This wasn’t something he was going to let go without a fight. There was a fortune to be made and he was damned if he was going to let anyone else get their hands on it.
“Rafael…”
Rafael paused.
“Put a proper business plan together and I might take a look. Give me facts and figures not pipe-dreams.”
Rafael nodded. So it wasn’t absolutely dead, not yet.
***
This was incredible. Katrina puffed her cheeks and blew out expansively. “I can hardly believe it…. As a model, what do you reckon Fran? You’re at the cutting edge of these things. Is there really a place for fabric like this? It would have to be haute couture, of course.”
Francine crossed her long legs, her glass mostly full. She studied it, took a gulp. As far as she was concerned, champagne needed to be gulped, not sipped, and nothing was going to change her mind. Sipping was for spirits and liqueurs, not champagne. “Well….” she settled back. “Two themes dominated last year, minimalism and haute couture. And you’re right, couture is where that stuff would fit.”
“And there’s still a market?”
“Both have been dog-fighting for ages, so who knows.”
“But you think it might?”
“If it’s the same as last year… If couture is dominant, you could be backing a winner. But maybe you’ll be the one to force the issue… who knows? You could be responsible for next year’s fashion trends. Think of it, Kat. I could be saying, I knew her when she had nothing. That’s my friend the Trend-Setter.”
“Beggar-off!”
“I mean it.”
“But, this year, next year? Your honest opinion?”
Francine shrugged again. “You’ll do what you want, whether or not.”
“I want to know what I’m letting myself into though, I mean, dad thinks there’s no future for my stuff.”
“Well last year, minimalism actually broadened its lines and went elegant. Some of the girls reckoned it hot stuff … but, couture hangs on. Could be a convergence, who knows? Word has it Yves Saint Laurent and Pierre Balmain doubled their couture sales, but read into it what you will. Whatever way it goes, there’ll always be money for luxury, and that’s true of any market. Come feast or famine, money-people are always prepared to spend on what interests them.”
Kat pulled her face. “The problem is, dad’s motto is, never mind the quality, feel the width.”
Francine took another gulp of champagne. “Well tell him from me, Sotheby's are convinced of couture's marketability. Tell him they’re thinking of opening a separate fashion department… That should keep him quiet.”
“Is it true?”
Fran gave