After the Reunion Read Online Free PDF

while. Maria spoke six languages, which was good because they often had foreign customers. Pamela didn’t mind dressing up as the maid because she planned to open her own boutique some day and this was good experience. Since Pamela was only twenty-two and didn’t have much money, Annabel didn’t think she’d have to worry about replacing her too soon. The three of them saw so much of each other that they had become a sort of family. And Sweet Pea sat docilely in her basket, or took a nap in the window if the sun fell to her liking, adding a nice domestic touch.
    Chris came by once in a while to say hello, even though she and Annabel spoke to each other on the phone almost every day. Annabel’s daughter Emma, if she was in New York and between jobs, came by too, just to hang around. Chris bought clothes (Annabel gave her a discount), and sometimes Annabel managed to force a free outfit on Emma, but Emma’s idea of high style still remained in the area of army surplus clothing.
    It occurred to Annabel, as she was packing for her trip to Europe to look at the ready-to-wear collections, that the only thing that was missing from her life at the moment was a nice young man. It had been over two months, and surprisingly she hadn’t even noticed! She wondered if that was a sign her taste was improving. She hoped it didn’t improve too much. Maybe she’d meet someone in Europe, or better yet, on the plane coming home. That could be her little present to herself for all the hard work.…
    When Annabel got to Paris after two days at the showings in Milan she was already over her jet lag. She checked in at her hotel, where the tickets for the collections were waiting for her. Rich buyers stayed at the Plaza Athénée, and a lot of others at the Meurice; Annabel was staying down the street from the Meurice at the St. James et Albany, where the year before she had discovered her favorite room at a price she could afford. It was actually a duplex suite, with a two story high ceiling, tall French windows looking out on a quiet courtyard garden, a small kitchen, and a dining table she could use for her paperwork. She unpacked quickly and went outside to the street.
    It was late afternoon, chilly but beautiful. She loved Paris, even now when it was in chaos because of all the people who had come for the collections. She was too excited to be tired, and she began to walk through the city, her breath catching in her throat with joy. Two years ago all of this had been a dream. Now it was her work. She wondered if she should go to the Ritz for tea, and look at all the chic people, or right down the street to Angelina’s, a tearoom that was enormously popular with the fashion buyers and where she might find someone she knew who would invite her to a party. Or maybe she should just have a quiet dinner and go to bed. Tomorrow she would be running around from early morning to late at night, going from one show to another, taking notes, trying to remember what she wanted to buy. She still had a limited budget and had to be careful what she spent for the boutique, and she couldn’t afford to make even one mistake.
    Who would have dreamed she would turn into such a serious person! The Annabel who never missed a party and a chance to get dressed up and flirt was now a woman preoccupied with lists and figures: dressing other people to go to their own parties. To tell the truth, she hadn’t seen much around to flirt with anyway. There were a lot of attractive young men, but they were looking for men, not for her.
    Finally she settled for window shopping, wandering, and a sandwich and glass of wine in a little café. She felt peaceful and content. Not that she’d given up the idea of a fling in Paris, but first she had business to do.
    The next four days were as crazy as she had anticipated. Being a newcomer, she always had the worst seats, in the back row. Five thousand people, packed in a tent like sardines, trying to see over each other’s