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By Root 1234 0

the collection to two places—one an uninspired salon in a modern hotel that had the advantage of being close to the nerve center of Paris fashion, and the other an extraordinary old Art Nouveau hotel she’d discovered just behind Les Halles, the old wholesale food market of Paris that had been transformed into a lively area filled with little boutiques, bars, and cafes. The decision would be an important one, as would the final details of the accessories, and Paris was tired of making decisions. Each outfit needed the right shoes, hats, or hair ornaments, special belts, “jeweled” pins, necklaces, bracelets, earrings—many of which she had designed herself and were being made up in tiny ateliers scattered throughout Paris. The overall design plan that Paris had carried in her head from the beginning would begin to emerge as a reality with the addition of each separate detail, and as the time grew nearer her nervousness increased. And now Finola was being difficult too! Flinging on Jenny’s Fende fur coat she followed Didi down the stairs and into his white 450 Mercedes, double parked with a ticket on it at the curb.

“Merde,” said Didi, cheerfully shoving the ticket to join the others in the glove compartment. Tickets were one of the necessary pains of city living. The alternative of actually finding a parking lot or even searching for a legal space to park never crossed his mind—it would have meant walking in this filthy weather, and Didi would never do that.

Didi was the Frenchest-looking Frenchman Paris knew. He had the long pale face and sad dark eyes of a medieval saint combined with the strong curved nose and underlip of a de Gaulle. But he was attractive, always immaculately turned out in his smart white suits—worn in summer with dark blue T-shirts and in winter with pastel blue or pink shirt and tie. From Didi’s stories she knew his lovelife as intimately as her own—or the lack of it. Who had the time for love affairs? There was only work, and more work. And that’s all she wanted. Didi was the only person in the world she’d told about Amadeo Vitrazzi.

“Wait, chérie, just wait,” he’d told her comfortingly. “When you’re a star we’ll buy our silks from Derome and you can tell Signor Vitrazzi—when he asks smilingly for your order—that his fabrics are not good enough. Then you’ll send him back to Olympe Avallon.”

“Where first?” she asked as Didi threaded his way through the ferocious early-evening traffic.

“Hats.” He hit his brakes and swerved to the left down a side street. “I said we’d be there before five and we’re late.”

“Oh, Didi, I hope Jean-Luc has got them right.”

The hats were the most important of the accessories, and vital to her “look.”

Didi double-parked again while Paris hared up the stairs to Jean-Luc’s workroom. He was a young man, discovered by Didi, straight out of design school. His imaginative samples had delighted her, but now she was anxious. After all, this was his first commission; what if he wasn’t as good as they thought?

Jean-Luc’s young wife answered her urgent ring. She held a baby in her arms and smiled a welcome to Paris.

“Come in, mademoiselle, Jean-Luc is waiting for you. Can I offer you some tea—or a glass of wine?”

Paris made a conscious effort to calm herself as she followed the girl into the shabby room. The baby grinned toothlessly at her from his mother’s shoulder and she grinned back, touching his chubby hand with her finger. He was sweet.

“Everything is ready for you, Paris.” Jean-Luc shook her hand and took her across to the long work-table that filled one wall. Her hats sat on little stands looking like a row of summer flowers in the winter landscape of this drab room.

Jean-Luc had created a pert, veiled pillbox to be worn tilted over one eye in a thirties cocktail mood, a rakish Spanish hat for the suits, and a wide-brimmed straw, trailing with ribbons, for the romantic day dresses. Paris needn’t have worried—they were perfect.

“More than perfect,” she added, throwing her arms around him, “they’re heaven—and you are a genius, Jean-Luc. These hats will be so successful