Danielle Steel - The Apartment

“Not yet,” Sally answered as Sasha ran past her.

“Get two—it sounds like we’ll need them.” She could hear screaming coming from two of the rooms. Welcome to my world, she thought to herself. But this was so much easier than planning a wedding. She knew what to do here. Weddings were a mystery to her, and she had no mother to advise her. Muriel wouldn’t even discuss it with her. She walked into the first labor room two minutes later, and was just in time to tell the mother to push after she checked her.

“We’re at ten. Let’s go,” she said to the crying mother as she threw up, and then shouted at her husband and refused to push. “I want to see your little boy, don’t you?” Sasha said, smiling calmly at her, as the young woman nodded, and then grudgingly started to push as she screamed. She hadn’t wanted an epidural, determined to do it naturally, and now it was too late and she’d have to tough through it, and Sasha could tell it was a big baby. It wasn’t going to be easy. “We need another push here…again….” she told the struggling woman in labor. “One more…another one. You’re doing great.” She smiled at her as the woman continued to scream, and threw up again. It was a tough delivery that Sasha knew the woman would remember, and it would have been so much better with an epidural, but she had to work with what they had, a big baby, a crying mom, and no drugs. It took another hour of pushing, but the baby finally crowned, and then slid into her hands as she turned it, and then the mother was crying and laughing. The agony was over the minute the baby came out. “Good job, Mom!” Sasha praised her. Sasha was so good at what she did, and loved it so much. It was a great feeling knowing she made a difference to people. She walked out of the delivery room half an hour later, after stitching the woman up, and rushed past the nurses’ station, as Sally called out to her.

“You’ve had three calls from some woman named Prunella,” she told her, and Sasha stared at her in disbelief.

“Is she kidding?”

“She told me I had to get you right away, and I said you were in the middle of a delivery. Was it urgent?”

“No, it wasn’t. She’s my wedding planner. It can wait.”

Sally laughed as Sasha disappeared into the next room, just as the woman having twins at thirty-four weeks was brought in on a gurney by paramedics. They had to bring in one of the attendings for her, Sasha couldn’t be everywhere at once. The paramedics signed her over and wished her luck.

It was one of those insane days when they delivered babies nonstop all day. She was there till midnight, and Alex was at the apartment when she got home at almost one. He was asleep in her bed, and he rolled over groggily and looked at her when he heard her come in.

“Prunella is mad at you. You didn’t call her back,” he said sleepily.

“Really? Tough. I was busy.” The Elvis Chapel was sounding better every day. She pulled off her scrubs, kicked off her clogs, and climbed into bed with him, and five minutes later, they were both asleep. Prunella could wait.

Claire and her mother boarded the plane to Milan at JFK on Valentine’s Day. It seemed appropriate to Claire to spend it with her mother this year, and they were both excited about the trip. They were flying coach for the sake of their budget, but even that couldn’t spoil the fun for them. The plane was full of Italians anxious to get home, and as she listened to the conversations around her, with people next to her, or shouting over them to friends in other rows, Claire couldn’t help but remember the exquisite luxury of George’s plane and the trips they’d taken together, and the wonderful time they’d had. But now look where he was and who he had turned out to be. It was still hard to believe. First his shocking abandonment of her, and then the discovery of the crimes he had committed. He was clearly a man without a heart or a conscience, a perfect sociopath.

She forced him from her mind and concentrated on what they were doing and where they were going. Claire had brought her computer with her, to show her mother her latest designs. There was so much to do to get their fledgling business off the ground, and her roommates had been patient about deliveries of color swatches, leather and fabric samples, and all the tools and materials they would need to show customers eventually. And they found a lawyer who helped them set up the company. The first trade show they were going to would be in Las Vegas, which sounded like fun to both of them. But not nearly as much as a trip to Milan.

Parabiago was in what was known as the shoe district of Italy, where the finest factories were. They were staying in Milan, less than an hour away, and had located a small hotel near the Via Montenapoleone, where the best shopping was, and where they planned to go after they finished their meetings. Milan was mecca to the fashion world, and Sarah had never been there before. The city was known not only for the important brands located there, like Prada and Gucci, but also for fabulous furs. Claire was aching to shop while they were there, but was trying to save her money for their business. Her mother had been generous, but Claire wanted to make a contribution too. They agreed to one day of shopping in the city before they left.

Sarah loved the designs Claire showed her on her computer. They were sophisticated and sleek, in basic neutral colors that would be solid additions to any wardrobe, and then there were half a dozen more whimsical, frivolous shoes that Claire hoped no woman could resist. There were two basic, very elegant evening shoes, and three pairs of pretty flats. And eventually Claire wanted to add boots. If they produced all of the drawings they had brought with them, there would be twenty different styles in their first line. From the orders they got at the trade show, they would get a good sense of what stores wanted from them that would supplement the brands they already carried. And once they were at the factory, they would have to choose quality of leather and the colors of each style. There was a vast range of quality and possible price points, and they would have a lot to decide on their limited budget. But thanks to her mother, they had a fair amount of leeway to work with, far more than Claire had had when she was designing for Walter Adams, and she was finally getting to design shoes she loved. She was infinitely grateful to her mother for the opportunity she was giving her.

They chatted all through lunch on the flight, and Sarah watched a movie, while Claire caught up on back issues of Women’s Wear Daily. She had fallen behind recently, while working on the collection, and she wanted to see the fall runway shows from Fashion Week in New York, to make sure she was going in the right direction with the designs for her shoes. There was a lot to incorporate in their plans. And the inner construction of their shoes, and the materials they used, would be important as well. After reading the papers she’d brought with her, Claire fell asleep, and woke up when they were landing in Milan.

Malpensa, the Milan airport, was notorious for chaos, long delays, and an inordinate amount of theft, and it took them an hour to get their bags, and finally get a cab to their hotel, which was small, spare, and clean. It was all they needed, and they went for a walk to take a look around. It wasn’t a beautiful city, but it was the center of the fashion world.

They had dinner at a small trattoria, and Claire noticed that the local men were admiring both her and her mother, and assumed they were two friends. Age didn’t matter in Italy, her mother was still a beautiful woman, and men looked at her as often as they did at Claire, and Sarah seemed to be enjoying the attention. Even when they didn’t try to pursue it, Italian men made it clear when they thought you were attractive. It did a lot for both their egos, and Claire made more of an effort the next day when they got dressed. It made a difference when you knew that someone noticed, even if it was a stranger, and you got a casual eye and a glimmer of a smile as they walked past.