The Spiked Heel

“All right.” She hesitated. “Griff?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry.”

He turned and left the office.

10

The buyer from Texas was feeling damned good. The buyer from Texas had been wined and dined all week long, and now it was Julien Kahn’s turn to pick up the tab, and he’d seen nothing but wonderful shoes since he’d come to this wonderful town (not to be compared with San Antone), nothing but wonderful legs, he had to hand it to these big fashion houses, they knew how to entertain a man. And it was Julien Kahn’s turn, and he’d just witnessed their showing, and damn if they didn’t have a wonderful fall line, and moderately priced too, new blood was what any setup really needed. The models had been just as pretty as any he’d seen all week long, with that faintly aloof air about them, and with wonderful legs (but not like Texas gals’ legs!), and the shoes had looked damned good on their feet, and, oh, the liquor these Kahn people served was mighty stimulating stuff, mighty stimulating.

He wandered around the suite of rooms with a martini glass in his hand. Everybody was in a nice friendly warm glow of friendly warm happiness, everybody all dressed up and chatting with models now that the showing was over, and everybody ready to fill that old glass of his whenever it got empty, and all these nice shining clean young faces, nice bunch of fellers these Kahn people employed, and nice round little backsides on the models, wouldn’t Louise take a fit if she could see him now, here in New York, surrounded by all this?

Oh, this was going to be a humdinger of a party, better even than the one yesterday had been, had to admit these Kahns had a mighty nice line, lots of business this fall, yessir, with all these snazzy new numbers the industry was turning out, oh, this was going to be a humdinger of a party!

“If you want my advice, Mr. Silverstein,” Murphy said, “I’d put in my order right now. It’s really only common sense when you figure it out. That base sold well for you last fall, and we’ve given it a lot more class in this fall’s line. So it stands to reason you can’t miss with it.”

“It was a good seller,” Silverstein said.

“Don’t take too many, if that’s what’s bothering you. Take thirty pair, split them up fifteen in the blue suede and fifteen in the black. If they go, you can always reorder. But I’d be prepared, Mr. Silverstein, that’s my honest opinion.”

“…medium heel,” Morrison said. “If you find the high heel isn’t clicking, you’ve always got the medium heel to fall back on. And you’ve got to admit, Mr. Canning, that our line this season is something to knock your eye out, isn’t it?”

“One of the prettiest I’ve seen,” Canning said.

“About the sling pump, we can give it to you with or without the rhinestones, that’s the beauty of that particular number. And picture that in your window, Mr. Canning. Together with the alligator lizard number, the one we call Naked Flesh, now, that was a beautiful shoe, wasn’t it? But order now so that we can plan ahead, do you understand? The factory’s going to be cutting soon, and…”

“…if you want it with a platform, we’ll stick a platform on it. My advice is that you’d ruin the line of the shoe that way.”

“I get a lot of calls for platforms.”

“Then order from the platforms we showed you. Why spoil the silhouette of another shoe by sticking a platform on it? I’m talking to you like my brother, Sam, believe me. I’d give you the platform, but that isn’t going to help the shoe, believe me.”

“We’ve really got something this year,” Canotti was saying to Stiegman. “I’ve been on the road for a good many years now, Dave, but this line is going to sell itself, do you know what I mean? I can sense it when a line’s got that… that zing it needs to push itself over, and this line has got it, I’m telling you.”

“Yes, I know,” Stiegman said. He watched the redheaded model as she walked around the room, popping olives from martini glasses into her mouth, making a game of seeing how many olives she could chisel from the drinkers. She was something, that redhead. She was something, all right.

“And what’s more, the buyers like it. The buyers are nuts about what we showed them. Why, that Naked Flesh number alone is enough to put over the line. Give me a suitcase full of that pump, and I’ll sell whatever else you dump into the bag with it.”

The model had stopped to talk with Manelli. She said something, and then Manelli giggled, and then the redhead reached into his glass and pulled out the olive, like Little Jack Horner, and then she popped it between her lips, and Manelli chuckled again and said something to the brunette who was with him. Who was the brunette anyway? Someone from the factory? Why’d Manelli drag her along?

“And will the broads go for this line?” Canotti asked. “Will the broads go for it? Dave, they’ll wiggle in positive ecstasy over this line. They will leap for joy.”

Stiegman smiled. Where’d that redhead go to? Ah…