Chapter 29
The next few weeks fairly flew by at C´est Sing…which was no wonder as all everyone did there was work feverishly, both day and night. But, the hardest working person of them all was Yuri Sing herself. The proud snow leopard woman paced, she fretted, she sketched, she crumpled up unworthy designs and threw them away. But, after much strain, sweat, and toil---and many a meal forced upon her by a most unrelenting Naomi!---Yuri got her creative juices flowing again. After her first successful new design---a slim, royal purple three-quarter length jacket over a pair of gorgeous flared slacks---ideas flowed from her pencil like a waterfall. Hours later, Yuri sat back, massaging her cramped forearms, tired yet pleased.
"Ah, Madame!" Naomi announced as she ducked her platinum blond head into her boss' office. "You are resting, no?"
Yuri smiled, continuing to massage her arms and hands. "Oui, do come in," she replied, beckoning her forward. Yuri's nostrils twitched at the smell of something wonderful and hot. "Naomi, you are too kind to me…" she commented, her mouth suddenly watering.
"Nonsense, Madame," Naomi replied as she brought a tray to the obviously hungry Yuri Sing. "You have been working for hours…I simply thought you could use some nourishment."
"That," Yuri added, smiling impishly, "and you were worried about me, no?"
Naomi placed the tray---which had a piping hot roast beef sandwich with gravy and mashed potatoes upon it---before Yuri, smiling sheepishly, her cheeks turning rosy. "Always, Yuri my friend," she confided with a smile.
Yuri laughed, patting Naomi's hand fondly. "Come, sit!" she ordered. She then slid her sketchbook across the desk to her. "While I eat, please…look through these and tell me what you think, hmm?"
Naomi picked up the still warm sketchbook, grinning as she noticed Yuri's poor pencil was but a nub now. As Yuri eagerly consumed her dinner, Naomi curiously flipped open the sketchbook, gazing at page after wonderful page. "Mon Dieu!" she gasped softly, her amber eyes wide in awe. "Madame…I have never seen such wonderful things before. This is some of your best work ever!"
Yuri smiled, pleased as she shoveled in another bite of gravy-covered roast beef sandwich and chewed. "You are just saying that to humor me," she teased after she swallowed.
"I am not!" Naomi protested gamely. To prove her point, she held up to Yuri a page out of her own sketchbook. "This dress---for our Kitty or Svetlana, no doubt---is breathtaking!" Naomi pointed to the sketch with the nail of her index finger. "Tell me you do not agree, Madame."
Yuri finished her meal with a sigh, and sat back. She grinned next, saying, "No, you are right, Naomi. I knew you had to point out that one to me…I am especially proud of that one, cheri."
"As you should be, Madame," Naomi pointed out. "Oh, but Kitty will look magnifcent in this. Er…of course, if we can coerce her to put it on, that is." Naomi had come to realize that Kitty had strong opinions when it came to outfits that did not include pants.
"You leave Kitty to me, Naomi," Yuri pledged, grinning. "I have to only dangle the keys to that Roadster before her, and I could get her into a tutu." Yuri couldn't help herself and giggled quite girlishly at that.
Naomi grinned, enjoying the sound of Yuri's laughter. "Oui, she does love that car, Madame," she agreed, then frowned. "Eh, but enough to wear this? Hmm, I do not know…"
"Trust me, cheri," Yuri told her. "Now…what color should this be, hmm? I was thinking a deep lilac for Svetlana…and perhaps hot pink for Kitty." Yuri narrowed her eyes, trying to imagine each girl in her dress. "What do you think, Naomi?"
"Lilac? Definitely for Svetlana, it will enhance her dark hair and the white on her face," Naomi opined, usually having a knack with people and colors. "But pink, Madame? For Kitty? Non…I do not think a self-proclaimed 'tomboy' will tolerate being wrapped in that color. How about a true blue instead, no?"
Yuri thought about her suggestion, canting her head so that her long blond hair tumbled over one shoulder. "Hmm. Eh, perhaps you are right. While Kitty would look tres manufique in pink…I think she would prefer blue. Besides if we get the shade just right, it will match her lovely eyes just so."
"Now that you've created all these designs, Yuri," Naomi then said, "perhaps it is time to think about the girls we intend to show them off on, non?"
"What do you mean, cheri?" Yuri replied, resting her elbow on her desk, then her chin upon her hand.
"Come, Yuri," Naomi suggested tactfully. "While I will be the first to admit that Kitty, Carmelita, Svetlana, and Maria are all lovely girls…they hardly know their way on the runways of fashion shows."
Yuri nodded, thinking. She then smiled. "Do not fret about that, Naomi," she proclaimed loftily. "Carmelita may think she is an ugly duckling, but she is anything but! Have you noticed how graceful she walks? Why do you think Monsieur Sly is so attentive when she moves into a room, no? She is a natural…all she lacks is confidence."
"Perhaps, Madame," Naomi replied, nodding.
"As for Svetlana," Yuri purred. "That girl would turn heads dressed in burlap sack! In one of my dresses, with her hair done up, some subtle make-up…do not worry about her either, cheri."
Naomi grinned. "She is a good looking woman, Madame," she confessed.
"Indeed she is," Yuri reiterated. "Now, Kitty and Maria…hmm. Maria is so unusual, what with her snowy white hair and fur. She presents a bit of a problem. Oh, not that she is not lovely too…she is! She is! Hmm, and she too is graceful enough. I think she and Carmelita will complement one another very nicely."
"And…what about Kitty?" Naomi pointed out.
"Yes, our beloved---what does she call herself again?---oh, yes, tomboy," Yuri mused aloud, tapping her chin with the back of the knuckle of her index finger. "We shall see…but, I have a good feeling about her, Naomi." She then thought a moment later, and then grinned wickedly. "Oh! I have an idea…oh, this will be so so perfect!"
"Oh, Madame?" Naomi asked, intrigued.
"Listen, cheri," Yuri said, beckoning Naomi to lean close. She then relayed to the startled cheetah girl precisely what she had in mind for one Kitty Petro. "Oh, Madame! Are you sure?"
"Oui, I am!" Yuri said, laughing and clapping her hands. "Now, go on…back to work with you."
Naomi shook her head, smiling, taking her leave and going back to work once more.
Yuri, now properly fed and rested, began planning her presentation of her new fall line in her head. She imagined which girl would appear in which of her creations in what order again and again…trying this, discarding that. She was nearly through the whole procession when Naomi knocked, then came inside, frowning thunderously. "What is it, cheri? What a face you are showing," Yuri asked, teasing.
"Madame," Naomi nearly growled. "I am most reluctant to interrupt you…but, however…"
"Oui, dear?" Yuri asked, putting down her notes. "What has you in such a furious mood all of the sudden?"
Naomi grit her teeth. "Moniseur Ripperoux---that oily smarmy wretch--- requests a meeting with you, Madame," she relayed as if each word caused her pain. Naomi's normally charming eyes were hard as crystal just now. "He does not seem to take 'no' for an answere. Though, one word, Madame, and I shall fetch my Uzi…and show that bastard my true feelings toward him!"
"Naomi," Yuri chided her, but understood her feelings. She shuddered, realizing she had no choice but to meet with the lecherous weasel…whether she liked it or not. "Go back and tell Monsieur Ripperoux that I need five minutes to freshen up, would you? Then, after that time, you may show him inside."
"But, Madame---!" Naomi protested.
"Naomi!" Yuri snapped, then smiled kindly at her assistant. "You will do as I say, oui?"
Naomi scowled, her fist clenching and unclenching a few times until she got her anger under control. "Oui, Madame," she grumbled, turning on her heel and closing the door…firmly.
Yuri frowned after Naomi left. "I am sorry, cheri," she whispered, putting her hand against the door in silent apology. "But I have no choice." Yuri then proceeded to gather up her notes, her sketches, as well as her fabric samples and any other tidbits that could give anyone even a clue of what she was planning. She bundled it all up, and moved over to her walk-in closet. She put everything carefully inside, then stepped back out and closed the door…then locked it. She then moved back to her desk, picked up her black jacket and slipped it back on. She wanted as much of herself covered as was possible when dealing with Gaston Ripperoux.
Right on cue, five minutes later, the door handle to her office moved, and in came Monsieur Gaston Ripperoux. He was heavyset weasel who still had his vanity. He was dressed in a natty slate-gray suit over a white shirt, with a turquoise tie. His shoes were polished to mirror-brightness, and he had the annoying habit of sucking at his teeth, and picking at his nails.
"Yuri," Gaston gasped then smiled a bright smile, "Ah, my dear, you look lovelier than ever," he added, reaching out to take her hand to kiss it.
"Gaston," Yuri replied politely, but snatched her hand away before he could press his full lips against her hand. "What brings you here this day, Monsieur?"
Gaston smiled wider, his dimples showing. "Beside the opportunity to bask in your glorious beauty, Ms. Sing?" He added, grinning as what he thought was his most suave and telling pick-up line. "I just thought I'd stop by and give you my regards, cheri…since I was in the area, you see."
"You are most kind," Yuri replied, smiling weakly, feeling her revulsion for this man sour her stomach. "But, if you have stopped by to simply exchange pleasantries…I regret to tell you that I have no time. I am a very busy woman these days, Monsieur…as you most likely know."
"No doubt, no doubt," Gaston replied, nodding his head, making his jowls quiver. He looked lecherously at the stately Yuri's curvaceous form with scarcely concealed lust. "Oh, but since I am here…there was one small thing."
"Oui, what is it?" Yuri replied, doing all she could to remain civil.
"Oh, I´m sure you remember our wager, do you not, you lovely lady?" he mentioned, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, to withdraw a document, holding up a contract that sported Yuri´s name signed at the bottom. "Oh, and the contract you signed, hmm?"
"Oui, how could I not?" Yuri answered, her perfect brow furrowing as she frowned at this uncouth man. "What of it?" Yuri couldn't keep the scorn she felt for Ripperoux out of her voice any longer.
"Now, now, my dear Yuri," Gaston wheedled, giving her a leer. "Might I ask what size you wear, cheri?"
"What business of yours is it what size I wear, Monsieur?" Yuri growled, her green-gold eyes blazing at his cheek.
"I've an outfit in mind for you…and want to be sure it fits you, cheri," Gaston chuckled evilly. "I do hope you like leather, my scrumptious beauty…I'm sure you'll look delicious in it…"
Yuri's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she moved out from behind her desk, her temper growing with every step. "I have been polite so far. However, if you are still here when I count to five, I will not be responsible for my actions, Monsieur," she added, her slender hand balling up into a fist.
Gaston blinked then looked back to her, smiling. "Really now, my dear Yuri…you simply must learn to control that temper of yours."
"One," Yuri stated, the muscles in her right forearm bunching as her knuckles paled, her lips peeling back to bare her impressive white teeth.
Gaston took a step back, but still gave her a smarmy smile. "No? Perhaps you could use a holiday, no?" Gaston suggested. "With me, of course…"
"Two," Yuri growled dangerously, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.
"Come now, cheri," Gaston wheedled, his eyes hotly sweeping over Yuri's body. "Think of it…you and I, alone on a beach. Oh…I bet you look superb in a string bikini!"
"Three," Yuri observed, taking one step forward, the hair on her neck rising.
"No then?" he replied, pretending to pout. "No matter…oh, would you happen to know a place in town where I could pick up handcuffs, hmm?" Gaston observed, grinning, confident he knew just how much he could push this proper lady. "For purely recreational purposes, you understand…" He leered at her again, smiling.
"Four," Yuri said then, her voice tight and dangerous, as she lifted her right arm up, cocking her elbow back, her fist primed to strike.
However, Gaston obviously thought that the urbane Yuri would never dare actually strike him, so he goaded her still. "Come now, my love...you want me, don't you?" Gaston leered.
"FIVE!" Yuri exclaimed, then grunted as she stepped quickly forward, rotating her hips, then her upper body, putting all her weight behind a lightning quick strike.
Crack!
Gaston yelped as her balled fist cracked into his jaw, snapping his head around hard enough to rattle his teeth, as well as knocking him bodily to the carpet. "Me, want you? Ha!" Yuri hissed angrily. "You are fat, you are vile, you have no morals, and you are a pervert to boot! In fact, you are probably the most disgusting and loathsome man I have ever met! You don't want me…you want my body…because you are a lech! You tricked me into signing that disgusting contract of yours…which no gentleman would ever think of doing, by the way! And, lastly, Monsieur Ripperoux…I am already taken." Yuri stepped back and crossed her arms before herself.
Gaston slowly worked his jaw, wiping the blood from his lip. "Oh? Just who is this lucky man that I must cheat of his prize, then, eh?" Gaston sneered.
"Out!" Yuri now screamed, reaching down to grab Gaston by the collar of his suit coat, bodily lifting him off the floor. "Get out! Get out…or I shall not show as much restraint as I have until now!"
Gaston smiled, though a bit unsurely…he sure hadn't expected Yuri Sing to sock him in the jaw! "All rigth Yuri…adieu for now. But, I'll be back to collect on our bet, cheri…" he promised, still the self-sure, cocky little dirt-bag that he was. He stared a moment at the closed door to the luscious Yuri's office.
Oh, but that changed a moment later, when he looked up to spot one seriously cheesed-off Naomi striding his way! And, it got even worse when the cheetah woman---whose eyes showed no compassion whatsoever!---rammed the long barrel of her Uzi sub-machine gun roughly up under Ripperoux's jaw. "N-Naomi! Um…uh, h-h-how good to s-s-see you again, my dear," he stammered, his beady dark eyes flicking down often to the deadly weapon the tall girl held so steadily in her sure hands.
"The only reason," Naomi hissed, her lips curled back to show off her long canine teeth, "you still live, Monsieur, is that Madame would be furious about the mess you'd make." She pushed the barrel of her Uzi up until it sank into the fat beneath Gaston's chin.
"Oh, of-of-of course," Gaston replied, sweat rolling down his cheek.
Naomi appeared to not of heard his response. "Give me a reason---even one!---why I should not give in to my temptation and rid your fat body of its even fatter head, Monsieur?" she demanded, jamming the barrel of her Uzi cruelly up into the paunch beneath Gaston's chin.
"Naomi, please," Gaston pleaded, his eyes a bit wild. "Do be reasonable…"
"Oh, but I am being reasonable, Messr. Ripperoux," Naomi replied in a calm, yet frightening voice. "And, you still have not provided me with a valid reason why I should not make the world a far more pleasant place…by ridding it of the likes of you."
Gaston was sweating bullets now. His eyes nervously darted about…first to Naomi's hard amber eyes, then to her trigger finger, then back to her face once more. He saw his own death in the cheetah woman's unrelenting eyes, and that did not sit well with him…no, not one bit! "I am an honest businessman, Mademoiselle Rousseau…that should be reason enough," he answered.
"You? An honest businessman? Ha, do not make me laugh," Naomi shot back, an eager smile lighting her face just then. "Sorry, Monsieur…I am afraid you will have to try again."
Gaston trembled now, unknowingly raising himself up on his tiptoes in an attempt to relieve the pressure of the gun's barrel beneath his chin. "Please, a moment! Do give me more time!" he cried.
"Madame has given you more than enough time," Naomi replied. "But, I am not totally unfeeling, Monsieur."
"Ah, I knew you were a kind woman, Naomi," Gaston gasped in obvious relief.
"Oui, I am," Naomi said with a smile. "Therefore I will give you to the count of five to convince me." She then shrugged, pretending to be fatalistic. "If you cannot…well, then I will say my adieus to you now, Monsieur."
Gaston whimpered, his neck was chafing from his starched collar of his clean white shirt, his tie was too tight, his shoes chafed. "Please! Ms. Rousseau…do not do this thing. I beg of you!"
"One," Naomi intoned, her voice as cold as a tomb.
Gaston moaned aloud, shivering with fear. "I am too young to die!" he bawled, his voice breaking.
"You are not, and you know it, you old windbag," Naomi replied, unconvinced. "Two…"
"Uh! Uh!" Gaston gasped, desperately trying to come up with something---anything!---to convince this woman to spare his life…and his head! "My company contributes to charities each and every year!" he proposed.
Naomi frowned, thinking. Then she shook her head, grinning. "Sorry, Monsieur…but, no. For you only do that to write those donations off on your taxes…not from any sense of philanthropy." She then tightened her finger on the trigger of her Uzi. "Three…"
Aiee! What would convince this girl? he asked himself, racking his brain. "My employees would be without jobs---which allow them to provide for their poor needy families!" he shrieked softly to her, wringing his hands.
Naomi looked wistful for a long moment, then shook her blond-haired head in negation. "Non, you know as well as I do that Madame would give them work, so do try again," she told him, smiling a thin, hard smile. "Oh, and do try to make it a good one, Monsieur…as after this one---eh," she added, glancing significantly to her upraised Uzi.
Gaston was weeping softly now, the armpits of his once immaculate suit stained, his hair was soaked, and he now realized that he had wet himself. But, none of that mattered! What mattered was convincing this apparently homocidial cheetah girl to let him live! "If you kill me, then your precious Madame Sing will never know if she won our wager or not!" he squealed at the last moment, then squeezed his eyes closed, waiting to see if he lived or not.
Naomi frowned at this most surprising answer…and found that, finally, he had provided her with an answer good enough to allow him to live. "Nicely done, Monsieur," Naomi replied. "I think you shall retain the use of your head a while longer."
"Merci!" Gaston whimpered, tears streaking his fat cheeks.
"Oh, one last thing," Naomi added a moment later.
Click!
Gaston wailed as he heard her pull the trigger on her gun, expecting a bright flash then oblivion. However, much to his shame and relief, the firing pin found only an empty chamber. "What? You mean to tell me that---" Gaston yelped, his fear turning to anger.
"Oui, Monsieur," Naomi said sweetly. "My baby was unloaded the whole time. I do not make a habit of keeping her loaded unless there is a need to."
"Bitch!" Gaston shrieked, lifting his big fists. He'd show that damn skinny wench that she couldn't humiliate Gaston Ripperoux!
However, before Gaston could even pull back a fist to strike, Naomi drew her Uzi back and clouted the fat weasel expertly in the side of his head with the butt of her sub-machine gun. "Bastard!" she hissed, her teeth showing again. "If you ever raise a hand to either Madame or myself again, I shall take great pleasure in filling you with bullets…even if I have to insert them manually!" She gave the now kneeling man another sharp crack to the head…just to further illustrate her point, you see.
Gaston moved his hands up to cover his head. "Non! Non!" he whimpered, his head now throbbing from the two blows. "I won't…ever!"
Naomi stepped back, hiding her Uzi from view beneath her shawl. "See that you remember that, you fat windbag," she told him. "Now…get out. Get out, or I shall show the world me throwing you out!"
Gaston scrambled back to his feet, reeling from both the blows to his head…and to his ego! He cast one hard nasty look at Naomi, then dashed out the door, swearing softly beneath his breath.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish," Naomi observed aloud. But, enough worry about that bastard…Madame needed her! Naomi took a moment to put her 'baby' away again, then moved to Yuri's office door and politely knocked. "Madame? Yuri? Are you all right?" she asked, concerned.
"Come in," Yuri called from behind the door.
Naomi entered, carefully closing the door behind herself. She then looked over to Yuri, who was seated behind her desk, gasping for air, and crying. "Aw, Madame. My poor Yuri," Naomi soothed, moving over to her friend, who was so upset. Naomi sighed. As far as she knew, Yuri never lost her temper…well, not very often at least. It took a rare breed of people to make Yuri Sing that angry. And, should those people actually push her buttons to the point that she lost her composure...well, it was certain that they had to of done something very bad indeed.
"Naomi, I am sorry," Yuri whimpered softly, wiping at her eyes, trying to wipe away the evidence of her angry tears.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, Madame," Naomi told her, moving over to gently rub her back, trying to calm poor Yuri down.
"I should not of lost my temper," Yuri declared, shivering. "Ooh, but that wretch has a way of getting under my skin, cheri." She then smiled softly at Naomi, then her eyes turned a bit haunted. "Oh, Naomi…I cannot lose this bet," she whispered. "I just can´t."
"You will not, Yuri," Naomi told her, leaning over to kiss her temple soothingly. "I and your many friends will see to that, you know."
Yuri leaned her head against Naomi's cheek a moment, gathering strength from the slender but resilient cheetah woman who was her dearest friend. She then grinned crookedly, gazing up at Naomi a moment. "You had words with Monsieur Ripperoux, did you not?" Yuri asked.
Naomi grinned mysteriously. "You might say that, Madame," she mused aloud.
"Ah," Yuri said, feeling a bit better already. "And, did Monsieur Ripperoux actually listen?"
"As a matter of fact," Naomi replied cryptically. "I had Monsieur's undivided attention." She grinned very mysteriously indeed.
"How wonderful for you, cheri," Yuri said, chuckling. "You did not hurt him…too much, oui?"
"No, Madame," Naomi promised. "I only had to remind him on a couple of occasions."
"Merci," Yuri said thankfully, taking Naomi in her arms a moment to let her know how much her friendship meant to her. "Now, I was thinking…about the show, I mean…"
"Oui? And, what were you thinking, my friend?" Naomi prompted her. Now, this was the Yuri Sing she knew, and loved, and treasured! "Allow me to guess, no? You were trying to decide which outfits each of our new models will wear, yes?"
"You know me too well, my dear," Yuri said with a smile. "Carmelita will be no problem…I want her to wear that black, slinky number we created first, remember?"
"Oui, yes, I do. Oh, Yuri…she will look so wonderful," Naomi sighed happily.
"Oui, she shall indeed," Yuri agreed. "Then, we need to have the girls start on those two dresses for Kitty and Svetlana…you know which ones I mean? The ones with the simple bodices, the layered skirts, and those diaphanous demi-sleeves, yes?"
"Oh, oui!" Naomi agreed, laughing and clapping her hands. "I expect a mass sigh from the male members of the press when they first set eyes on our Svetlana," Naomi predicted, grinning. "That lilac you suggested will be just the right touch, Madame."
Yuri grinned, agreeing. "And, as for our budding swan, Kitty," Yuri said cleverly. "I want to be sure to have every outfit we have her in to be either true blue or emerald green. She is a woman with warm tones…so jewel colors will make her come alive." Yuri's green-gold eyes danced. "And…won't that just make Constable Chu's eyes fairly bulge out when he sees her, no?"
"What of Maria, then?" Naomi asked, curious.
"I have just the outfit for her," Yuri promised, getting up to fetch her drawings and supplies again. She flipped through her sketch book until she found what she was looking for. "This one…with a black velvet bodice, and white satin skirts, mid-calf length, I think…to show the boys what wonderful legs she has."
Yuri cast a speculative glance Naomi's way…asking what she thought.
Naomi grinned suddenly, seeing their white-furred friend in that outfit in her mind's eye. "Ooh, yes! We will arrange her lovely hair up atop her head, and accent those lovely sapphire blue eyes of hers. Hmm, I think I know just the pair of earrings and a beautiful necklace that will be just perfect, Yuri!"
"I knew I could count on you, cheri!" Yuri told her with a thankful smile. "I have some ideas for other outfits for our Arctic vixen friend too. With her unique coloration, I think we can come up with some very surprising combinations that she will be able to pull off very nicely."
"Oui, Madame," Naomi said, feeling confident again…at long last!
"Now, before we can have our lovely girls show the world their stuff," Yuri mused aloud. "We two must instruct them in the ways of the runway, no?"
"Absolutely!" Naomi agreed, nodding her head. One could hardly ever guess that this sweet-faced smiling cheetah girl only fifteen minutes before had been shoving the barrel of an automatic weapon under a man's chin! "I shall take care of everything, Madame! Now…when do we want our budding fashion divas to appear for their lessons?"
"Hmm, good question, cheri," Yuri pondered aloud a moment. "We can get both Maria and Svetlana in to practice anytime we can make the time. After all, there is an advantage to having them already working for us." Yuri grinned. "Now, as for our wonderful friends, Kitty and Carmelita…please call them and ask them to meet us at the ballroom at Le Hotel Tangiers this evening at eight o'clock."
Naomi smiled. "At once, Madame," she responded crisply. "Oh, and Madame?"
Yuri looked up, smiling, to Naomi. "Yes, cheri?" she asked.
"It is good to have you back again," Naomi said truthfully. "And, please do not worry, Yuri. We---your friends and I---will see to it that you win your wager with that pig, Monsieur Ripperoux." Naomi then grinned a half-smile. "My apologies to the pig for the comparison, of course."
Yuri snorted, then laughed aloud. "Of course," she said between giggles.
Naomi was about to leave when she stopped, her expression pensive. "Madame?" she added.
"Oui, Naomi?" Yuri said with a sigh, but a contented one.
"What of Monsieur Sly? And, my Murray, of course?" Naomi wanted to know. "What role will they have in helping us?"
"Hmm," Yuri mused, rubbing a finger just below her lower lip. "Your Murray I will need to ensure that wretch, Ripperoux, does not abscond with all of our designs at the last minute. He has a reputation for doing that sort of thing to his promising competitors, you know."
"One more reason to despise that man," Naomi replied with a low growl. "Never fear, no man---or woman!---will make off with our product with my Murray at the wheel!" she promised.
"Of that I do not doubt, cheri," Yuri said with a nod. Murray was a very imposing figure of a fellow, after all, no? And, after all his experiences with the wily Cooper Gang, she felt fairly confident he'd see their clothing safely to the show.
"And, Monsieur Sly?" Naomi prompted, still unclear. "Besides making our poor Svetlana blush prettily as some young school girl, I mean?" She grinned.
Yuri laughed. "Yes, he does seem to be able to get her to do that, doesn't he?" she agreed, with a grin. "What a rogue he is."
"My Bentley and I have begun a two-pronged cyber search," Yuri told her friend, "to determine if Monsiuer Ripperoux is acting alone…or has acquired some help from some of Paris' more unscrupulous types. It is most unlike him to bet his entire line on one show…no matter what the prize. Mainly, me…it seems."
Naomi patted Yuri's hand companionably. "Madame…please, don't worry. Everything is well at hand." She then grinned. "And…you still haven't told me what Monsieur Sly is to do…"
"Ah, yes, that rascal," Yuri considered, thinking. "You know, Naomi…I think I know precisely what our intrepid Master Thief can do for us." She idly dragged a fingernail lazily over her desk blotter a moment while she thought. "I think we shall set him to observing our competitor, no? Who better, after all, to spot something out of the ordinary than our friend Sly Cooper, nes pas?"
Naomi grinned. "I imagine he would be intrigued with this assignment, no Madame? Although, he will sorely miss his Carmelita at his side, oui?"
"Alas, you are right," Yuri said with a knowing grin. "But, sacrifices must be made in the name of expediency, no?"
"I suppose," Naomi opined with a smile. "As a reward, we shall invite him to our premier, no? I think it safe to say that the first time he sees his Carmelita in that slinky black dress strutting down the runway…he shall consider himself more than adequately compensated, don't you think, Madame?"
Yuri giggled, then clapped her hands together. "Oh, oui, Naomi! This is perfect!" she said. "Now, cheri…do add contact him to your list. And…as much as I value your companionship, dearest…you have work to do, do you not?"
"Oui, Madame!" Naomi replied, smiling warmly at her friend, her mentor. "I shall see to at once."