Page 61 of Guilty Pleasures

Cameron slipped off her jacket and nodded to the model-grade waiter to fill her glass with still water.

‘Useful. Everyone was there; reps from Hermès, Gucci, Rolex. I honestly don’t know why you didn’t let me get you a slot speaking there; it would have been excellent exposure for you. You’re such a good public speaker too, so I don’t know why you wouldn’t do it.’

‘It’s not that I can’t talk in front of five hundred people,’ said Emma frankly. ‘It’s just that I can’t talk about the luxury goods industry in front of five hundred people. I’d be exposed as a fraud because the amount I know about the luxury goods industry can be written on a Smythson notelet.’

‘Well, you’re definitely learning fast,’ laughed Cameron. ‘Two months ago you wouldn’t even have known what Smythson was.’

Emma smiled, but there was truth in Cameron’s words. She was on a very steep learning curve and on her better days Emma merely felt like a little girl playing at running a handbag factory. On her bad days, she felt smothered by doubt and helplessness. It was like running through treacle.

Cameron reached out and touched Emma’s hand, seeming to read her thoughts.

‘So how are things with you, honey?’

Emma managed a weak smile.

‘Oh, things aren’t that bad. At least we’ve got our financing in place. I’ve promoted our head of merchandising Ruan McCormack to be my COO and he is fantastic. But my family hate me and I’ve had to fire seven people. I now need a bodyguard to go down to the

village shop.’

Cameron nodded sympathetically.

‘You’ve got to hold onto the positives, sweetie. How’s your new design guru working out?’

‘Oh, she’s wonderful. She’s been locked away in the studio since she started, but we’ve already run up some prototypes of her first designs – the benefits of having your own factory, I guess – and I think they’re amazing.’

She reached under the table and grabbed a plain white paper carrier, handing it to Cameron. Inside was a mid-sized black leather handbag and Cameron held it up admiringly. It resembled a Gladstone bag, but with all the hard lines removed; its soft shape was emphasized by subtle quilting and a woven handle.

‘This is hers?’ she asked, looking at Emma with wide eyes. ‘Honey, it’s beautiful! I’d buy this in a heartbeat.’

She stood up and slipped the bag over her shoulder, checking how it looked in a mirror by the door. Then she clicked it open and examined the inside.

‘Kid leather inside, all hand-stitched, solid brass hardware,’ said Emma.

‘Oh, I can see all that,’ said Cameron, nodding. ‘This baby’s got class written all over it.’

She sat down again and looked at Emma. ‘I think it’s fabulous. Does Stella have any more like this?’

Emma laughed.

‘I can barely stop her! She has a dozen designs as good as this if not better and she wants to put them all into production.’

Cameron raised her eyebrows. ‘Well if they’re this good, I’d say let her.’

‘I hope the fashion magazines all react the same way as you have,’ said Emma. ‘We desperately need their support.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t count on the support of the magazines close to home,’ said Cameron.

‘What do you mean?’

Cameron paused awkwardly.

‘Well, there was a guy named Claude Lasner at the conference, some sort of fashion recruitment guru, I think. Anyway, we got chatting and I mentioned you and he was very dismissive about Milford, said the company was a hair’s breadth from bankruptcy.’

‘That will explain why he gave me short shrift,’ said Emma. ‘I was trying to find a designer through him. My cousin Cassandra put me onto to him.’

‘Yes, but I did some subtle digging and it turns out that he got his information from none other than Cassandra herself.’

‘No!’ gasped Emma, ‘But why? Why would she say that? It’s her family’s business – her mother’s a shareholder!’