Kneeling next to boxes lined up against the wall, Maggie proceeded to set up the clothes for the models. A runway emerged from a grey curtain that hung in a curved backdrop. The flowers were already delivered, which consisted of tall greens and mixed assortments of white daylilies, hydrangeas, and azaleas. Matt and Sally, assistant coordinators for the fashion show events, were at a table with a box of pastries and coffee for the three of them.
“Maggie!” Matt called out in his silly tone. “It’s donut time! We brought caffeine and sugar!”
Maggie looked up, feeling almost dizzy, remembering that she had not taken the time to eat. But now she was busy arranging the clothes for each model. They only had four models, which left for a pretty tight rotation, but they were incredibly fast. Maggie did not think that she had ever changed clothes that quickly in her entire lifetime.
“Matt!” Sally yelled over to him. “Greta’s on the phone, and wants to know if she can use the money in your underwear drawer to get some soda and snacks, because Ben and his friends ate everything last night!”
“What’s she doing in my underwear drawer? Tell her fine, but she can only take fifty.” He looked over toward Maggie. “Those kids, always making a pipeline from your wallet to the sewer,” Matt said with a chuckle.
Maggie enjoyed his humor. And she needed to keep a sense of humor, working for Francis. He was never about “lightening the mood.” And she knew that she had better get busy.
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Maggie, still bent over boxes, saw Francis fast approaching. He began to speak in his expediting tone. “That box over there, it’s got the tablecloths and candelabras, and Oliver’s catering service will be here two hours before the show with caviar, a cheese tray, and—oh! Can you call and maybe see if they can add a veggie tray? It’s sort of last minute, but also double-check that the little mini-cupcakes have buttercream icing. I abhor the cool-whip kind, and they aren’t supposed to forget to add those tiny little plastic fashion shoes that I sent FedEx last week—and be sure to let them know if there are any problems at all, we will not use them in the future! Bar will be set up over there. Now, let me see what we have set up for the models.” He walked over to the racks and then viewed all the boxes. Maggie felt her insides tighten as he approached her, ready to make his assessment. Her head was already spinning from all his stupendous announcements.
“Not everything’s out of the boxes yet,” Maggie explained. “But I put our white palazzos with the sequined tank and this scarf…” She thumbed through the sets of clothing, hoping for his approval.
“No!” he corrected. “That cashmere scarf is for the double-layered chemise, and don’t forget it goes with the Hot Flash shoes.”
Maggie picked up the shoes, wishing she had gotten more sleep. “No!” Francis alarmed. “The tan ones, not the red ones, they go with the cream satin dress emblazoned with red ruby accents—don’t be silly. We need that dress to pop! I have to get the music to the sound tech, and I will be back in a couple hours.”
Maggie looked forward to his departure when he called out, “Oh! Make sure you embellish that purple lace dresswith that scarf but remove the pin—it’s a pitiful sight. And in case you didn’t know, the beaded wedge slide came in eight and a half, instead of nine and a half, so tell Elle she’ll have to deal with it.”
That is just wrong!
Maggie could not believe that he expected the models to wear shoes that were too small! She shouted at him on his way out, “Elle doesn’t even want to walk in anything over four inches! And now they’re too small?” She watched him…quickly return…Please…no!
