to Bardin and you know how difficult he is. I mean,’ Rebekah continued hurriedly, ‘that she’s used to working under pressure for high-profile fashion clients. Can I send her round?’
‘Okay,’ I sighed, not wanting to sound as ‘difficult’ as she obviously thought I was.
‘Great, I’ll tell her. I know she’ll be thrilled – she’s one of your biggest fans.’
‘Right. Good. Tell her to come by at six.’
Promptly at six, the concierge phone beeped to indicate that my guest had arrived.
‘Send her up,’ I said wearily. I wasn’t looking forward to this – since Susie had suggested I needed help organising my life, I’d seen a stream of eager young women arrive, full of enthusiasm, only to leave weeks later.
‘Am I difficult?’ I asked my reflection in the mirror as I made sure I didn’t have anything stuck between my teeth. ‘Maybe. But it’s nothing new, is it?’ I added as I finished off my vodka then smoothed down my hair. Stefano, my hair stylist, had only recently braided it tightly against my scalp in order to stitch in long extensions. My whole head always ached after a new weave had been put in.
There was a knock and I went to answer the door, wondering what was waiting for me on the other side of it. Whatever I’d been expecting, it was certainly not the small, trim figure dressed in a plain brown suit with a skirt that fell at an unfashionable length to just below her knees. My eyes wandered down to her feet, which were enclosed in a pair of what Ma would call ‘sensible’ brown brogues. The most surprising thing about her was that she was wearing a headscarf wrapped tightly across her forehead and around her neck. I saw that she had an exquisite face: tiny nose, high cheekbones, full pink lips and a clear latte-coloured complexion.
‘Hello.’ She smiled at me and her lovely deep brown eyes lit up as she did so. ‘My name is Mariam Kazemi, and I am very pleased to meet you, Miss D’Aplièse.’
I loved the tone of her voice – in fact, if it was for sale, I’d buy it because it was deep and modulated, pouring gently like honey from her throat.
‘Hi, Mariam, come in.’
‘Thank you.’
As I took long strides towards the couch, Mariam Kazemi took her time. She paused to look at the expensive splashes and squiggles on canvas and I could just tell from her expression that she thought as much of them as I did.
‘They’re not mine, they’re the landlord’s choice,’ I felt inexplicably bound to explain. ‘Can I get you anything? Water, coffee, tea – something stronger?’
‘Oh no, I don’t drink. I mean, I do, but not alcohol. I’d love some water if it’s not too much trouble.’
‘Sure,’ I said as I changed direction and headed for the kitchen. I was just pulling a bottle of Evian out of the refrigerator when she appeared beside me.
‘I would have thought you had staff to do that kind of thing?’
‘I have a maid, but it’s just little ol’ me here most of the time. Here.’ I handed her the water then she walked to the window and gazed out of it.
‘You’re a long way up.’
‘I am, yes,’ I said, realising I was completely blindsided by this woman, who exuded calm like a perfume and seemed totally unimpressed by meeting me, or by the grand apartment I lived in. Normally, possible candidates were bouncing off the walls with excitement and promises.
‘Shall we go sit down?’ I suggested.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘So,’ I said when we were settled in the living room, ‘I hear you worked for Bardin?’
‘I did, yes.’
‘Why did you leave?’
‘I’ve been offered a position that might suit me better.’
‘Not because he was difficult?’
‘Oh no,’ Mariam chuckled. ‘He wasn’t difficult at all, but he recently moved back to Paris full-time and I am still based here. We remain the best of friends.’
‘Good. Well, that’s great. So, why are you interested in working for me?’
‘Because I’ve always admired your work.’
Wow, I thought. It isn’t often I hear someone calling my job ‘work’.
‘Thanks.’
‘It is a real gift to be able to create a personality that complements the products one is advertising, I think.’
I watched as she opened her plain brown satchel, which was definitely more ‘school’ than it was ‘designer’, and handed me her résumé.
‘I guessed you wouldn’t have had time to glance through it before I arrived.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ I agreed as I skimmed the details of her life, which were unusually