Desire Inc.. Zoe Zarani
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Desire, Inc.
ZOE ZARANI
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
Mischief
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London, SE1 9GF
An eBook Original 2015
Copyright © Zoe Zarani
Cover design: Head Design 2017, cover images: Shutterstock.com
Zoe Zarani asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780008168131
Version: 2017-08-22
Contents
Six-thirty on a balmy evening in early September. New York Fashion Week had just gotten off to a good start. It was now my moment. This was my big night, the presentation of this season’s Desire handbag collection. In just four years, I had been lucky enough to steadily grow the business thanks to a core group of women. My first clients had been a mix of boutique store owners, women who were climbing the heights of the corporate world and lots of ladies who lunch. Bless their loyal hearts. They kept buying my handbags and spreading the word to others. Last year I had made enough profit to pay back a sizeable chunk of the bank loan. Now I wanted to celebrate and thank the group by showing off this year’s line with a cocktail party in my East Village loft that was home, office and showroom.
The launch of every new season is an important night. It’s a make or break moment. I wasn’t anywhere near the big handbag guns – Fendi, Hermès, Prada – but I was holding my own. Smart, efficient Leila, the best assistant anyone could ever have, had convinced Aileen Gerber, a reporter from Women’s Wear Daily, to show up. Maybe one day I’d get Vogue, the premier fashion magazine, to take a look, and the trendmaker stores Bergdorf Goodman and Barneys to place an order. One day soon. If my luck continued to hold out.
I was nervous. I’m always anxious showing off my new bags, twelve in all, but tonight my heart was in my throat. I blamed it on the unexpected high cost of the party, the WWD reporter and the number of people coming. Up to now I’d shown my new line to one client at a time. I’m at my best dealing one on one, and I like to give the client all my attention. It makes her feel exclusive.