Lauren hadn’t wanted to attend Palmer Bell’s memorial service, but she did it for Nick and Phoebe. If Alejandro’s funeral had been like a carnival, then Palmer’s, at St. Thomas, also on Fifth Avenue, was an austere, black-clad mass. Lauren had taken Phoebe to Saks the day before in order to find something appropriately respectful and colorless. Phoebe was sitting in the first row with Nick and his family, including his two brothers, while Lauren sat behind them with Patch, Thad, and the other Society members. Lauren knew her friends understood the hypocrisy of honoring a man who was responsible for so much damage. But no one wanted to cause trouble, particularly since it might jeopardize the chances of the five of them getting out of the Society.
The service was completely impersonal, a series of hymns and readings about service and justice and truth. Lauren was glad that, unlike Alejandro’s, it was relatively short, less than forty-five minutes. Afterward, Lauren joined Phoebe, who was standing with Genie and Patch outside the church.
Phoebe gave Genie a hug on the icy sidewalk. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
Genie swatted her away with a folded program. “Oh, don’t you be sorry, dear. I still curse that man’s name for everything he was responsible for. I’m only here because it’s the right thing to do.”
Patch merely shrugged at the girls, and there was an awkward pause.
“Well, I need to go downtown, actually,” Lauren said. “I figured that I might as well take the rest of the day off, since they’re not expecting us back at school. I have to stop by Giroux. Phoebe, do you want to come with me?”
Phoebe shook her head. “I think I’d better stay with Nick, you know, make sure he’s okay.”
“Of course,” Lauren said. “I understand.”
Lauren parted ways with the rest of the group and took the subway downtown. When she arrived at Giroux, she headed to Sebastian’s office. She had sent over a portfolio earlier of her new designs for the Colette store in Paris, and she was eager to hear what he thought.
He was in his office. Lauren knocked on the door and then popped her head in.
“Lauren! Come, sit!”
Lauren sat down on one of the two Eames chairs in his office. Sebastian had given her this new opportunity that she needed, and yet she wondered if she really deserved it. She was encouraged by the fact that her designs were selling, both nationally and in Europe. Was that proof enough that she had talent?
“I’m curious to know what you think about the Colette line,” she said. “I decided to go in an Egyptian direction this time, as I was inspired by the Dendur Ball. But these are reinterpretations, more like the pieces that became popular in the 1920s and beyond.”
Sebastian flipped through Lauren’s black portfolio. “These are beautiful. I think we’re all set with this. Colette will love these.”
“I hope so,” Lauren said. “Will you let me know what they say?”
“I’ll do even better. I want you to come to Paris next month, for a week during spring break, to view the unveiling of their new collection. It will be huge to have the actual designer in their midst.”
“Really?” Lauren asked. “To Paris?”
“Absolutely,” Sebastian said. “I want to introduce you to some other European buyers, and I’d like you to accompany me on visits to several ateliers. I probably shouldn’t mention this, but a few designers have also expressed interest in using your pieces as accessories in their upcoming runway shows.”
“Oh my God-can you say who?”
“I’d rather not. I don’t want to get your hopes up. But I can assure you that if any one of them picked your line, you’d be extremely pleased.”
Lauren blushed. “Thank you. I don’t know what to-this is just so exciting!”
“Well, you deserve it.” Sebastian leaned forward. “There’s something else I wanted to mention to you. That little incident that we had last month?”
“Oh, please, I’d rather not think about that,” Lauren said, groaning. He was referring to the awful episode with the stolen earrings.
“We’ve learned who was responsible for it,” Sebastian said. “One of the security guards, not Danny, but the other one that week, a temp from the agency, was paid off to place the earrings in your bag. I don’t know who arranged it, but I’m glad that it was cleared up. Of course, I never believed that you had done it.”
“Thank you,” Lauren said. “I appreciate that.” She wasn’t really sure what to say, as she felt such mixed emotions. Clearly, the Society had been responsible, but did Sebastian not know that? Were all these orders coming from a higher place? Maybe she had achieved the connection with Sebastian on her own merits, and his affiliation with the Society was purely coincidental. In that case, perhaps she could still work for Sebastian and not be a member of the Society, if the five of them could manage to get out. But was that right? She wanted to go to Paris, to have that opportunity, to be mentored by famous designers, to meet people in the fashion industry. But what were the strings that were attached to it all? What price would she have to pay?