Magdalena's Shadow, page 29
“Get out and don’t ever think you have any right to touch me again. If you feel I led you on at the party, then that’s your mistake. I was having fun, nothing more. Don’t ever come here again, Alessandro.”
Looking alarmed, Jack arrived in the hall with Carmen behind him. Together they watched Alessandro walk toward the stairs. He stopped before the first step, turning toward Coco. He didn’t speak; he just looked at her and then turned away.
Bebe had stopped crying when Coco found her sitting with Tia on her little pink bed. James lay asleep in his crib, his eyes shut tight, his breathing deep and rhythmic.
“Are you okay?” Coco lifted Bebe into her arms and sat down next to Tia.
“Why did that man say that James isn’t my brother?” Bebe’s face clouded over with new grief.
“Because he doesn’t understand us.” Coco kissed Bebe, rocking her gently in her lap while Tia patted the little girl’s back and smoothed the hair from her face. They sat together in silence while Coco tried to find words to describe their unique situation. “You know how I told you that I’m your sister and your mama. It’s like that with James too. He is your nephew but he’s like a brother too.”
“What’s a nephew?”
“A nephew is your sister’s son.”
Bebe nodded her head, laying her cheek on Coco’s shoulder. “If you are my sister then who is my mama? Is she in Europe like Mila’s?”
“No, honey. Your mama is in heaven with God. She couldn’t take care of you so she sent you to me.”
“Then I’m glad I’m with you, Coco.” Bebe hadn’t called Coco by her name in years.
“You can always call me Mama, Bebe.” Coco hugged Bebe close.
Tia stroked the child’s back, her eyes reflecting a sadness no words could express. They sat quietly together in the ensuing silence.
“That’s okay.” Bebe shook her head before looking seriously up at them. “I had a mama already.”
Coco’s eyes filled with tears as her heart ached for Bebe. “I love you more than any mama ever loved her baby.” She lifted Bebe’s chin in her hand until the child looked at her. “You are my baby girl and I love you.”
Bebe nodded slowly and closed her eyes.
Coco couldn’t reach Paolo for several days. When she did hear from him the phone connection was so bad that his voice was garbled and the call dropped.
“Where are you?” Coco asked when he called her from a different number several hours later.
“You would never guess,” Paolo laughed. “I am skiing. I have left Rome and business and I’m having an adventure. How is the work on my lookbook coming along?”
“My lookbook is scheduled to be shot next week. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. I’ll be modeling the clothes. That won’t violate our contract, will it?”
“Not at all. You should be the one modeling La Sangre’s new line. What was the other matter you wanted to discuss?”
“Your son was here, and he was very rude to me and my children.”
“I am sorry,” Paolo sighed. “I imagine he told you that Cristina believes I am James’ father?”
“Yes. It was very upsetting. I thought you said her spies were everywhere. If she’s so well-informed how can she think such a thing?”
“I don’t know. She’s jealous and angry and being very unreasonable. We have been separated for years. It is probably more the idea that I can still start a new family that is infuriated her. I am sorry you have been caught in the middle of my family vendetta. I will make it up to you, I promise. Just be patient and keep working on the spring line.”
“I never stop working. It’s all I ever seem to do. What are you planning, Paolo? Why is this line so important to you?”
“I am not planning anything, my darling. As I told you, right now I am skiing; later I may plan something. Who knows?”
“All right, you keep your secrets.”
Shooting the lookbook for La Sangre’s new line took seven days, far longer than any of them expected. Each piece required a different look, setting, lighting, and feel. The stylist they hired altered Coco’s hairstyle and accessories with every wardrobe change, and by the end of the shoot Coco felt she had been brushed, cinched, and sculpted in so many ways that she just wanted to be done. The resulting proofs were visually spectacular. Carmen and Coco sat up late into the next morning selecting the proofs that would go into the final pages: four shots of Coco wearing each piece, with a description beside it.
“Why are we doing this?” Carmen asked. “Oh that’s right. It’s our swan song.” She laughed without humor, her eyes skimming over a photo of Coco in a green gingham dress. Coco knew it broke her heart that they couldn’t afford the materials they had used in the collection for a real ready-to-wear line.
“Something good will happen,” Coco reassured her. “I’m putting the building up for sale. If it sells we’ll have the money we need to manufacture the line.”
“And if the line fails you’ll go bankrupt. We don’t even know what we’re doing, Coco. Delilah was right. We have no real-world experience. You shouldn’t take such a risk.”
“Don’t think like that. We’ve learned more on the job than we ever could sitting in Gilman’s classroom. We may not know what we’re doing, but at least we keep trying. If I don’t invest more money in La Sangre it really will die, and I don’t want that. This is a beautiful collection. It’s truly amazing. The world needs to see your work.”
“And yours.” Carmen turned sad eyes on Coco. “Many of these designs are yours, Coco. Don’t ever forget that you are not just the pretty face,” she added with a half-smile before turning back to the proofs. “You know, I would still be living with the Gilmans in Chicago if you hadn’t taken this risk. I just wish we could get the clothes out there for everyone to see.”
“We still can if we lower our standards.” Coco bit her lip. “Of course, none of it would look the same because the quality would be gone: plastic instead of silk, linen, or cotton, poor stitching instead of quality. No tailoring at all.” Coco shook her head. No, it’s better this way, she thought. They sorted through the last photos highlighting the ones they wanted on the computer before dragging them onto the lookbook.
“What do you think Paolo’s up to?” Carmen asked.
“I don’t know. He’s skiing. There is no telling what he’ll do after that.” Coco watched Carmen match the last four photos with their blurbs, dragging and dropping each item into its own section. The lookbook was done. They ordered only three hard copies – one for Coco, one for Carmen, and one for Jack. Paolo would get his copy through email. Coco imagined him viewing it through his smartphone while standing on some alpine slope in between runs. She felt a sudden pang of anxiety as they reached the end of the project. They had gone over every page, arranging photos, correcting misspellings and typos until she was certain the lookbook was perfect – and yet when Carmen went to hit send Coco hesitated.
“Are we ready?” Coco turned to Carmen.
“We’re ready.” Carmen smiled at Coco before she moved the cursor over the send button. A second later it was gone, just data in the web, their dreams shooting formlessly out into the world.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Spring sunshine poured into the ninth floor windows of the Blackwell building. James sat in the light on a sheepskin rug, his fingers buried deep in the wool. With rapt attention, he examined the effect of the light on the white strands of fleece. Everything was new to the baby: the dust in the sunbeams swirling and dancing around his head, the glow of light on color, the splendor of sunshine refracted and reflected on the walls and floor around him.
Coco sat silently beside him, watching him catch sunshine in his hands, enjoying his laughter and the way his black curls shone in the brilliant afternoon light. The moment felt beautiful and miraculous all at once. I’m here right now, she thought, I haven’t missed this moment. No part of Coco’s new life brought her greater joy than when she had the chance to watch James watch the world.
Coco didn’t hear Tia at the door when she returned from the park with Bebe; she didn’t hear the mail rustle when Tia set it on the table by the door. It was James who saw Tia and Bebe enter. He rose to his feet, pressing his palms into the floor while he pushed himself up. Coco smiled at the sight of dimpled arms and dimpled knees working together. After a momentary struggle, he was standing, running to where Bebe stood.
Coco rose slowly, not ready to let go of the moment. She was sorting through the stack of mail when the phone rang. “Miss N.V., there’s a man here to see you,” Lidia, the shyest of the new interns, informed her.
“Okay, show him to my office, I’ll be down soon.” Coco turned tired eyes on her little family. The time of sunbeams and silence had ended; it existed now only in her memory. Leaning over, Coco kissed Bebe on top of her head. Before she left she hugged Tia who looked happily surprised.
“I have to meet someone but then I’ll be up. We can eat lunch together.” Coco took a green pashmina wrap off a hook by the door, throwing it over the black tank she wore with jeans.
Coco passed Lidia on her way down the hall to her office. She passed Carmen and Jack as they argued, and Delilah as she played solitaire on her computer. Five steps from her office, Coco took a deep breath, smoothed her face, and prepared to meet whoever was waiting. Quite suddenly, she caught a familiar scent. Her heart leapt in her chest. Before she had seen him or heard his voice, Coco knew that Rob waited for her inside.
He stood by her desk, his shoulders framed in a perfectly tailored Armani suit. He held his briefcase tucked under his arm, his eyes fixed on the window in the far wall. Coco froze. The subtle scent of his cologne made her heart thump erratically while the sight of him struck her as powerfully as it had the first time they had met. Coco watched him turn toward her, his face ready with a slight smile that faded the moment he saw her.
“Coco?” he asked with confusion, his eyes softening, almost sad.
They stared at each other, neither of them knowing what to say or do. After a moment, Coco walked toward him, slid her arms through his, and held him. He stood frozen for only a moment before she felt his arms on her back. She could have stood like that forever, so grateful to see him, so happy to hear his heartbeat against her ear again. Sadly, she felt him withdraw from her. When she opened her eyes, he had stepped back to look at her.
“What are you doing here?” Rob looked into her face with concern.
“I live here,” Coco smiled gently up at him.
Rob stared at her and then laughed. “Do you know that’s the first thing you ever said to me? When I first met you in Chicago you said, I live here. You were standing in the storage room, remember?” He smiled, watched her close the door and draw up a chair.
Coco took his hand in hers after they sat down. “I didn’t think I would see you again.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “You disappeared. You must have seen my email.”
Rob shook his head as he looked at her. “No, I didn’t. I’ve been…disconnected for a while. Mila and I live in South America, in Venezuela. You emailed me?”
Coco nodded. She looked at his hand where it rested in hers. A thousand questions, coupled with a sudden fear ran through her mind. “Then how did you know I was here, Rob?”
Rob looked away, confused. “I didn’t. I’m as surprised as you are. I’m supposed to meet someone called N.V. Rodriguez. I stopped in to make an appointment but the girl downstairs said N.V. could see me.”
Coco nodded slowly. “Well, you’re lucky I’m even here. I’m so busy I can’t usually fit anyone in on short notice. We just finished our spring line so I’m getting a short break. You came at exactly the right time.”
Rob said nothing. He seemed to be waiting for something.
Then Coco understood. “I’m N.V.,” she added, looking away. “It’s my modeling name and my legal name. Magdalena called me Coco, but I was christened Nicole Valentina.”
Rob didn’t answer; his face had lost all its earlier warmth. “So, Coco’s not even your real name?”
“Are you here on business?” Coco interrupted before he could list out all the lies that lay between them.
“Yes.”
Rob’s answer made Coco’s blood run cold. Slowly she let go of his hand, stood, and walked around the desk. When she sat down again, the desk stood between them. She felt a blush rising under her clothes; she felt humiliated and hurt, but her well-trained features betrayed nothing.
“How’s Mila?”
“She’s good… big. You’d hardly recognize her.”
The words stung. Coco knew it was true. Over two years had passed since she had seen the little girl. “Bebe’s big too. She looks like me. She’s already very tall.”
They fell into another uncomfortably long silence. Coco glanced at Rob’s briefcase reminding him without words that there was a reason why he had come.
“I’m here to present you with an offer.” He slid smoothly into his legal talk, setting a white folder on the desk between them. “A Milan fashion house is offering to buy an eighty-five percent share in La Sangre.” Rob opened the folder.
The paperwork swam before Coco’s eyes. She stared at the pages, shock still rippling through her. “Why?” Coco asked absentmindedly. “Why do they want my label?”
“The offer outlines everything.” He slid the document toward her.
Coco blinked back tears. She stared at his hand where it rested on the desk. How could she possibly remain level-headed enough to talk over an offer when her self-control was beginning to slip? “Maybe this isn’t a good time.” Coco said, and stood up to look out the window. With her back turned toward Rob, she could hide her eyes. “I couldn’t finish Don Quixote,” she added, her voice breaking. “It was absolutely unreadable, kind of like the average legal contract. Rob, you can’t expect me to read a document right now. You can’t appear out of nowhere and expect me to be able to keep myself together enough to act like I haven’t been missing you for over two years.”
Coco stood beautifully silhouetted against the window, her dark hair mingling with the green silk wrap.
“I can read it through with you so it makes sense,” Rob spoke softly, trying to coax her back to her chair. “This doesn’t have to be painful. We’ll read through it and then you can decide if you are even interested. If you are not interested, then I’ll tell my client you have declined, and this will all be over.”
“I know how it works. I’m not a stupid little girl anymore. What I am is tired and very, very confused.”
Coco turned to glance at the document, her eyes slowly lifting to Rob’s. He looked, if anything, resigned to the misery of the moment. “You can have tomorrow, Rob, but not today. I can’t do this today.”
Rob nodded, rising to his feet to place the offer back in his briefcase. When he moved to go, Coco turned back toward the window, unable to watch him leave the room. “I’ll see you at nine o’clock.” The sound of her voice stopped him where he stood.
“Nine.” He moved again for the door.
“Rob,” Coco said. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Coco.” And then he was gone.
When she heard his footfalls fade, Coco closed her office door and sat in silence.
There was a soft knock at the door. Carmen walked in. “You okay?”
Coco nodded. The worst of it was over. She had seen him, spoken to him, and it was plain that he had come on business. But why? Coco wondered, feeling the pain of their history wash over her. Why couldn’t Rob have come to see her for her sake? Why had it been business that brought him back into her life? She had dreamed that when she found him they would fall into each other’s arms, kissing and apologizing, and never leave each other again. But instead of kisses she had been given documents, polite conversation, and… what?
Coco returned to the ninth floor to find Bebe riding her trike down the hall with James running behind her. The moment James saw his mother he lifted his arms wanting to be held. Coco lifted him, cradling him to her chest. A fresh stream of tears ran freely down her checks. Her throat felt choked with subdued sobs. She slid silently into her room, moving into the unobstructed spring sunshine that filtered in. It felt good to close her eyes and breathe in James’ scent, his baby smell lingering in his black curls.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Rob, standing on the far sidewalk looking up at the building. Coco didn’t try to hide their son; she stood frozen in the light, her green wrap a beacon in the brown brick facade. She swore he saw her, but after a moment Rob turned and walked down the street like a man facing a strong wind, though not a leaf stirred in the early spring heat.
Later at dinner, Coco didn’t tell Tia that she had seen him. This pain went beyond anything Coco could describe. God had given her the only thing she had prayed for since surviving the snow; and the prayer was answered without love, without passion, and without even the friendly familiarity she craved. Coco would have settled for friendship if she absolutely had to; she could live without Rob’s love if she could see him smile, hear him laugh, or talk with him. But this… businesslike politeness? Fighting would be preferable.
Coco woke early the next morning, taking time to look her best. If she had to face him and remain professional she would do it with all her defenses in place. He had been shocked but pleased to see her. That first moment of recognition had been sincere even if the rest of their meeting had been a sham. Coco clung to the smile of surprise he had offered her while she hot-rolled her hair, remembering how deeply and completely they had once loved each other. One lie and one night had destroyed everything. And now there was James. Once Rob knew she had hidden his son from him he would hate her. Coco stared at herself in the mirror, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “Stupid, so stupid.” She shook her head at her reflection. Her vision became blurred by the tears that stung her eyes. He would sue her for custody and they would end up fighting in court.
