A Nightingale in Parkleigh Square

Chapter Twelve

––––––––

W ith her heart in her throat, Nina entered the Billington the next morning. In her head, she rehearsed her planned speech, trying to keep her confidence afloat. We will fix this, just give us the chance. We promise you the finished staging will be as good as the original pitch.

How great was this going to be? With Van Stewart's as the last window to be unveiled in the city, a big season's greetings to remind everyone to shop there after New Year's? Probably not great, since Natalia dismissed them before, and that was on a good day — today didn't look like one, since the store's coordinator was in the midst of scolding one of her assistants as Nina reached the top of the stairs.

Be brave, and get it over with. Could it really be worse than that time one of their clients mistakenly thought crepe paper and tinsel were the same thing?

Below, the store's gallery was laid out, ready for the new shipment of fashions — and the Christmas decor courtesy of Display by Design. On the gallery above, the chaos of arranging things had been overtaken by the chaos of making things, which Nina determined by the number of people in a hurry with swatches or half-pinned garments. Somebody's attitude was clearly overstepping on the store's authority, however, since Natalia was arguing them with a fierce expression that was melting away Nina's courage like a snow cone in July.

What if we didn't tell her and just changed things? Like a coward, Nina was thinking of how to spin this option into a bold decision, but Natalia turned around and spotted her. Her face flashed irritation.

"What?" she demanded.

Nina faltered. Her mind was blank. Pulling together her courage in one place, she grasped at the first memory of her speech. "I need to speak with you about something important," she said.

"Yes? What is it? As you can see, I'm very busy, and there's almost no time this morning, so speak quickly." Natalia's words speed walked into the open, and her arm looked ready to hook onto Nina's and do the same with her body physically.

"We've encountered an obstacle at the last minute, and we decided the only way to avoid it is to change the theme we originally pitched to you — in part or possibly significantly," said Nina. "We're not asking for more time or more money, everything will remain locked in place except for the decor, and —"

"No." Natalia spoke firmly. "I approved your design, a representative for corporate reviewed it. We finished that stage."

"But we can't deliver it, not in time for the party, and it isn't our fault, it was an error on the part of the supplier's inventory," said Nina. "We have to make changes, and we want to preserve the design's harmony because that was your priority. We're not asking for more time to do it —"

"We're finished here, and so are you," said Natalia, forcibly. "I've had my limit of your company, Ms. Alvarez, and the fact that you assume you've earned any — legitimacy — to ask for grace after a mistake. To be frank, I'd rather chance some apprentice for a Paris design company having free rein than let the three of you continue."

"We haven't done anything wrong," said Nina. "We are not to blame, and all we're asking for is a little trust to do our job, one we were hired for legitimately, even if it was an oversight."

"Two wrongs do not make a right," said Natalia. "I gave you terms in which to deliver your so-called vision, and now —"

"Let them make their changes," said another voice, coming from the design studio's hub.

The elegant-looking woman in a blue dress had been listening to the last part of their conversation, apparently. She was in the company of the designer Nina remembered from their first day — now in a striped caftan and scarf — and two moody-looking assistants in business clothes.

Natalia's expression melted into surprise. "Simone," she replied. "I think perhaps there has been a misunderstanding regarding this situation." Suddenly, the coordinator's tone was delicate and apologetic.

"I don't," said Simone. "This is the decorator hired to provide the decor for the season, no? She is asking for artistic leeway only. It isn't an unreasonable request, surely."

"No, but — you remember the memo regarding the situation, I'm certain," said Natalia.

"Yes. But it can't be helped now," said Simone. "Surely we have all tasted our equal share of such embarrassment and discomfort in such situations, no? At this stage, surely you have exhausted all options, so there is nothing to be lost."

"It's true. I spoke rashly before under the pressure of a very trying morning," said Natalia.

"We all feel much pressure for this event," responded the designer in a mild voice.

Natalia's smile seemed forced, as if marched to the front of her face, as she turned to Nina again.

"By default, Ms. Alvarez, your request is granted. I withhold judgment until the reveal."

"Thank you," said Nina. "Thank you." This one was for Simone, and Nina tried not to feel a little quiver inside — this was the Simone Van Stewart, sticking up for her in the middle of some obviously-important task.

Simone and her assistants continued on. Natalia gave Nina a warning look — this had better be good or else , without words — and hastened after them.

Nina's lungs slowly deflated. No wonder the store's coordinator had been upset to see her here, with the legendary designer coming early for the inspection. It had taken Natalia's sail winds to have the eminent label's CEO act so blasé about the matter.

"That was incredible," said Vincent. "You are an incredibly lucky person."

He was at the head of the stairs — obviously he had heard or seen the whole thing, coming up from below. Nina's face blushed red, fire heating her cheeks.

"I would definitely call it a lucky break," she said. "I think I was just rescued by one of the world's best designers, and I'm not even wearing designer pumps."

Vincent hid a grin. "Not to worry, I don't think we're having a trial by fashion label today. I was just thinking she must have seen what I did when I first saw you arguing with Natalia — in front of whom, most people fold like a deck of cards."

Don't let the compliment go to your head . Nina struggled not to blush again. "Not many people win against her, huh?"

"She wins by default. It's the intimidation factor," he answered. "But what you're doing had better be good, because Natalia may defer to Simone this time, but when it comes to her job, she's a tough critic to please. She could do serious damage to your reputation."

"Great pep talk," said Nina. "You don't coach sports as a hobby, I hope?"

"No. And I don't think you're going to fail, by the way. I just tacked on a warning to keep you on your toes. In — I'm guessing — Easy Rider's knockoff version of Rossi's classic black pump?" He gave a quick glance to Nina's business heels.

"You can tell by looking?" she asked.

"Any good designer knows the original, the fake, and the imitations by flattery, inside and out," he answered. "At least if you want to work for Simone Van Stewart." He gave one more smile to her, then walked towards the studio, where one of the younger members of staff held up a tablet screen, wanting his opinion on a digital sketch.

Nina's confidence flicked its needle wildly between flattery and anxiety. Stop thinking about him and focus , she thought. We have to make all our decisions by the end of today if we don't want to fall behind.

" The Simone Van Stewart told her that we should carry on," clarified Molly, after scraping her jaw from the floor. "I mean, I'm having trouble hearing things with some kind of weird allergy going on, so maybe you said something else — like some guy in a van named Stewart stuck up for us today."

"No, it was the Simone," said Nina. "I turned around and she was standing there, looking exactly like the profile pic on the label's website. She turned Natalia into Jell-O in, like, two seconds."

"I should have gone today," moaned Molly. "Why did I stay and help Bradley try to pack up our stuff? I thought, 'volunteer to pick up what we don't need at the store, that way you can have coffee in the morning.' What a swizz. That's what they say here, apparently, when life cheats you."

"Did you learn that at the pub?" asked Nina, amused.

"The regulars are teaching me a few things. You know, to fit in. Hey, don't knock it until you spend some more lunch time hanging out there. I think the loud jukebox's corny Christmas selection has charmed me."

Nina looked at the revolving tree spiraled in the corner of the room, its metal point nearly touching the ceiling. "We have to keep as much as we can, but anything is on the table," she said. "Simone has to be impressed. She has to feel ... connected to this project, not just flattered."

"More crazy talk, because I thought we were treating this like any client," pointed out Molly, as she packed a couple of small vintage toys meant for stocking stuffers, the finishing piece for a large modern wreath intended to hang above the store's elevator.

"A client we can't look in the eye or make happy by directly reassuring them," said Nina. "Sure, just like any other day someone literally mails us a list of demands, lets us put it together, then judges whether they love it or hate it."

"Sarcasm is uncalled for. I was just making a legitimate point."

"I know," said Nina. She sighed. "So put it all on the table. We need heart, harmony, and to use as much stuff as we already have, and provide everything else cheaply. No more chrome, because no place will sell us any matching ornaments that don't look like spray-painted plastic, and that's definitely not Van Stewart chic."

Bradley tested the tree's power switch, which slowly began to revolve. "What about red and green?" he said. "The stuff we have would match that. We could spray paint this tree green with metal paint, and add a red ribbon, maybe some decorations."

"How are we going to put ornaments on it? It doesn't have branches," said Molly.

"I don't know. Maybe we ask Ki how to do it. The kid's a wonder with a soldering torch."

"Yeah, in violation of every kid safety law ever crafted," said Molly.

"Didn't you say the secondhand shop had some cool ornaments?" asked Bradley

"They sold them to Lea — remember, the girl we met in the cab?" said Nina. "She builds collections for auction for one of the antique warehouse's side hustles."

"She probably knows some good places to look for more."

Nina watched the tree revolve around its central pole, like a spiraling ladder looping to the top. Outside, the daylight had disappeared behind some clouds, threatening a rain shower. Across the way, the little fake candles twinkled on the Romanian Christmas tree. It looked homelike, and made Nina feel homesick, even though it didn't remind her of anything from her New York life, either past or present.

Home. That was the key here. It needed to feel like home. Comforting, warm, but creative and optimistic, the past and present coming together in a seasonal gathering where hope was always around the corner as the new year turned its page.

She had already seen what home looked like to Simone, in part, and that was going to help them save this assignment. Why hadn't she realized it before?