I'm sure 'I'm sorry' doesn't cut it right now. I don't even know how long I've been off but I have a reasonable excuse. My computer caught a virus. We'll be getting one at home for Christmas, thankfully. Until then, I'll be writing at my grandmother's for two days.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
"Can I help you with something, ma'am?"
A woman came up behind Kagura who was sifting through spools of fabric. The Fabric Factory was the place where designers who were "in the know" went to buy their exclusive fabrics. Egyptian cotton, leather from England cows, and winter fox fur were only a few of the things that Kagura had at her finger tips. Of course, she did a few months ago.
"Where is your British leather?" Kagura asked, slightly frustrated. She blew a bang out of her eyes. "I've looked everywhere."
Looking everywhere was a great feat. The Fabric Factory was a huge two story tin building set in a rarely traveled valley of California.
"We've recently stopped stocking British leather." The assistant replied. "We only provide California leather and economical 'pleather'." She stated proudly.
Kagura glanced up from the dark maroon velvet she was admiring. All thoughts of the fall show and Russian themes left her head. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
The employee turned and walked in a different direction, signaling Kagura to follow her. She was led to a section that had a sign above it marked "Green".
"Management has decided that we should start selling more economy friendly materials. Society is happy with us. Not to mention it's cheaper for us and for you."
Kagura's stomach dropped. The pleather came in all sorts of disgustingly bright orange and blue colors, some with the antique finish and some with the high gloss. She shoved her hand in a nearby fur and grimaced at the gristly feel of faux leopard.
"Of course," the assistant continued, "if you're not yet used to the fake appeal we still carry Cali cow." She said cheerfully.
That drew the line for Kagura. She turned on her heel to face the taller girl. Her name tag said that her name was Anna. "Where is Brooke Hastings?" She asked briskly.
"She was fired when the new management took over."
"New management. Oh well that makes perfect sense." She said with a smile.
"What does?" Anna said, still cheerful.
"Brooke would have never done this because Brooke realizes that quality means everything. Brooke realizes that the 'real deal' is the only deal. Brooke realizes that California cows are meant for milk and cheese not for jackets and boots. Thank you for you time." She said as she started walking away. "Unfortunately, I won't be needing it anymore." And with that she slammed the door.
Anna stood there in pure shock. There went the last of their customers.
Kagura whipped out her Blackberry and held down the 3. She thanked whoever was listening when it rang instead of the busy signal. She couldn't count the number of hours she had waited to get Brooke on the phone. This time, though, she picked up on the fourth ring.
"Brooke Hastings." Came her curt answer.
"Brooke, this is Kagura." She said with a smile. It was nice being on a first name basis with your fabric and thread supplier.
"Kagura! How are you? When are you coming by? I just got in a new shipping of tiger."
Kagura opened her car door and slipped into the driver's seat. "That's what I'm calling you about. I just stepped out of the Factory. Seems there's new management."
There was a pause. "You didn't know?"
"Apparently not. What happened? Where are you?"
"I'm in New York. I work out of Master now. I thought I told you that."
Kagura stopped at a stop sign and gaped. "Master? That's wonderful. How did you pull that off?"
"A friend, of a friend, of a friend new Zukia. I could have sworn a called you or e-mailed you or something."
"You might have. I've been really busy with the back-to-back shows." She still couldn't believe it. Master was amazing. Zukia was born into a billion-are family. Her grandmother started designing in Japan many years ago. The business was then passed down to her mother that was then passed down to her.
"You need to come up here and meet her. I've been dropping hints and she seems interested."
Kagura almost wrecked. The other person honked their horn at her and sped past her. "How can you tell?"
"Well, she actually listens instead of spewing off some nonsense about French models. And then I found her on the internet looking at your website and your models. She hardly knows how to use the internet. She gets her computer techs to do that for her."
Kagura was skeptical. "Maybe she's just looking at one of my models."
"No." Brooke insisted. "She's looking at you. I'm telling you catch the next plane and come to New York."
"Okay. I will." Kagura took a deep breath and then went into business mode. "But you understand that I work with my hairstylist and my models. They'll have to come with me."
She was worried. There was no doubt that Ayame was amazing. But she wondered if Sesshoumaru had mentioned the Amanda scene. She didn't, that was for sure. Did Zukia think that all her models where elephants?
"Brooke…how well a relationship does Zukia have with her son?" Kagura asked quietly.
"Sesshoumaru? The only time I ever hear them talk is when she's sending him off to find prospects." She answered. She hadn't heard that he had visited Kagura's show apparently.
"Has he said anything bad? Like, maybe, the outfits are in bad tastes or that the models aren't appealing?"
"Kagura, that man never has anything nice to say about anything. He once asked me if someone had run my black widow thread silk had been run through the mud."
"Why did he ask that?" Kagura asked appalled. Everyone knew that Brooke had access to materials from around the world. Anything she wanted she got. She once made gloves from the fur of Howler monkeys from the rain forest. Last spring she ripped apart pillows from the Taj Mahal for its prized silk. She only used them for tiny flowers on the sheer lace that lay over a tiered skirt that Kagura designed. The point is, you don't just tell Brooke that her silk looks like it's been dragged through mud.
"That's the way he communicates. But don't worry. I made him a pair of lounging pants out of it. His mother will give it to him for his birthday."
"Way to put him in his place."
"I know. So tickets for fourteen people?"
"Yes, me, Ayame, and my twelve models. Why?"
"I'm sending them to your phone right now."
I think this is a good stopping point. Besides the fact that I'm going to try to update on as many stories as I can before I have to go back. It's not like I enjoy leaving all of you hanging.
Sincerely, straighjacket