AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What the?” I whisper, gasping as I see a pattern emerging. Every time the bidding slows down, the auctioneer looks to his right and someone bids just a few thousand euros higher, pushing the clout and the prestige of the gown up and up.
Four hundred.
Five hundred.
Three-quarters of a million euros... and I don’t see bidding slowing. If anything, as the cost has crossed into the stratosphere, more people want in on the action, chasing the golden apple of snagging the biggest headline moment of the event.
“Check it out,” Tobias whispers as bidding slows again at nine hundred thousand euros. “I see the juicer.”
He purses his lips, using them to point toward the front row but careful to avoid putting in an errant bid that’s probably more than he’s going to make in a lifetime. I look over as the auctioneer glances to his right, and the bidding goes up to nine hundred twenty thousand.
It’s Simon.
He’s doing it quietly, not making a big deal about it so as to avoid the notice, but he lifts the paddle in his crossed arms twice more, at nine hundred and fifty and then at nine hundred and ninety thousand, before literally bowing out at the next bid.
“Un... deux... trois!”the auctioneer, who’s sweating at this point, says triumphantly as he bangs the gavel on the podium.“Vendu un million d'euros!”
The entire crowd gasps, and the winner, a blonde woman who looks to be about fifty or so, leaps to her feet in delight as everyone breaks into applause.
Jacqueline takes the podium, nearly hipping the newscaster-slash-auctioneer out of the way. She makes quick comments that don’t need translation to tell me they’re a thank you for everyone for coming, and make sure you pay up if you won.
Afterward, Tobias escorts our group out of the ballroom to the garden area to mingle, telling us, “I would be honored to introduce you around if you’d like, or if you’d prefer, you’re free to do so on your own.”
We look at each other, and slowly, everyone else wanders off, leaving only me and Tobias. “Shall we?” he asks, offering me his elbow. I slip my arm through his, glad for the company.
“Autumn, meetHerrSchlieter,” Tobias says as I shake hands with an older German man, and then his date, who Tobias doesn’t introduce, making me curious. “He’s the Chief Legal Officer for one of Germany’s biggest department store chains.”
“Ah, ah,HerrTobias,” Schlieter says good-naturedly, but at the same time correcting him, “the biggest.”
“Apologies, of course.HerrSchlieter, Miss Fisher here is one of the contestants in House Corbin’s under twenty-five contest. Her designs are lighting up the runways.”
“Really?” Schlieter asks, giving me a look of interest. “I shall have to remember your name, Miss Fisher. Do you think you will win?”
“I hope to, but regardless, I’m thankful to House Corbin for giving me this opportunity to do my best work.” I’ve done this song and dance before, back at F.I.T. when we would have mingle-and-meets with professors and designers, and easily slip into polite niceties.
“Are you based in Europe?”
“Until now, I’ve been in New York, but I’ve loved what I’ve seen of Paris so far. I think I like Europe very much,” I say with every bit of charm I possess.
Schlieter hums and smiles. “Well, if you find time, I hope you get a chance to visit Munich while you’re in Europe.”
As Schlieter and his date leave, I turn to Tobias. “His date?”
She was completely silent during the entire exchange, smiling vacantly and only offering an occasional nod to show she was listening.
Tobias chuckles but looks at me shrewdly. “There is an old European saying. A powerful man should have three women in his life. His wife, his mistress, and his whore. Hopefully for him, the three never meet.”
He grins, expecting me to get the humor, but mostly, I just feel sorry for the woman at Herr Schlieter’s side and wonder which she is. I’m reminded that Beatrice said something similar about all Frenchmen... and it makes me glad that I’ve found the one who is the exception to the rule.
We move on, Tobias introducing me around more. I appreciate every meet and greet, but as we do, I come to realize something.
I have absolutely nothing in common with these people.
It’s a strange realization. I’ve spent over half my life wanting to rub elbows with the fashion elite, to get myself into the orbit of the movers and shakers in the fashion world. More than that, I wanted to beadmiredby them, to be more than just another name. I wanted to bethename, one of those people so famous in fashion that I didn’t even need to use my full name.
Autumn would stop meaning a season and start meaning a person, a brand, a lifestyle.
But being around these people tonight, I’m realizing they don’t set trends. They follow. Their idea of deep conversation is to throw shade at anyone who isn’t ‘hot’ at the moment. They don’t look you in the eye. Everything is side-eyeing. And their approval waxes and wanes on a whim.
