12.

Cassie got the message her mother wanted to see her at the end of a long day. There was less than three weeks until the grand opening, and she had been working back-to-back twelve-hour shifts. New crises landed on her desk every morning.

The cheese maker in West Marin ran out of chives. The mushroom crop in Inverness was washed away by a spring storm. The handmade chocolate sculptures melted under James’s pinpoint lighting.

Alexis also worked tirelessly. Every time Cassie rode the escalator upstairs she ran into an army of women, weighed down by red Fenton’s boxes. Alexis introduced Cassie to girls from her book club, the members of her makeup class, the women in her Asian cooking seminar. Alexis was usually leaning on the counter, wearing a form-fitting dress and four-inch heels. She sported a different accessory each week: a stack of gold bangles, a hat from Philip Treacy’s new collection, and the items flew out the store.

Alexis created a Facebook page for Fenton’s, and a Twitter account, which became her obsession. She flitted from department to department, rapidly texting about new arrivals. By lunchtime twenty women would appear at the counter, fighting over the latest Chanel powder blush or Pucci scarf.

Cassie listened to her mother’s message twice, wanting to ignore it until morning. She was looking forward to swimming fifty laps and sitting down to one of Pia’s delicious meals. But Diana had broken her toe playing lawn croquet at the Breakers. She was confined to her apartment and frantic to hear about the emporium’s progress.

Cassie checked her reflection in the elevator mirror on the way up to Diana’s apartment. Her mother couldn’t complain about her wardrobe. Alexis was teaching her to dress like the heir to Fenton’s. Today she wore a James Perse dress with Chanel ballet slippers. A ruby clip held her hair back, and she carried a Burberry clutch.

She took a deep breath before she knocked on her mother’s door. She still hadn’t told Diana that Alexis was running Fenton’s. In her mother’s eyes, Alexis was the sixteen-year-old who persuaded Cassie to skip school to attend Neiman’s annual sale. Cassie remembered the fuss when the headmistress found the Neiman’s bags stuffed in their lockers.

“Good evening, Maria. How is my mother?”

“Like bull in a china shop,” Maria groaned. “She follow me around with her own duster. When she going back to work?”

“Darling, thank God!” Diana appeared in the doorway. She wore flowing silk pajamas and satin slippers. Her hair was brushed smoothly to her chin and she had replaced her cigarette holder with an ivory cane.

“I didn’t know you needed a cane.” Cassie frowned. “Shouldn’t you be lying down?”

“A lovely gentleman in Palm Beach gave me the cane as a present.” Diana hobbled to the conversation pit. “I want to hear everything. I’ve had James on the phone and he said you’re doing a marvelous job.”

“Axel is creating a new line of floral arrangements for Fenton’s. Miles Cavendish is baking a red velvet cheesecake for the grand opening, and Vanessa Getty is going to cut the red ribbon.” Cassie sat on a snow-white love seat.

“Vanessa Getty.” Diana nodded approvingly. “The society columnists will love it. James wouldn’t tell me the name of your interim store manager. From the numbers I’m seeing, she’s doing a fantastic job.”

“She’s an old school friend,” Cassie mumbled.

“Emily Burrows’s daughter has all the latest gadgets.” Diana sat opposite her, propping her foot on a silk pillow. “Emily says she gets daily tweets announcing new arrivals at Fenton’s.”

“It’s very effective,” Cassie replied nervously.

“I told you I’m a big fan of young energy. Emily showed me Fenton’s Facebook page: five hundred friends the first week. We should have implemented these ideas months ago.” Diana picked up her teacup and sipped the tea thoughtfully. “It’s time for a change in leadership.”

“What do you mean?” Cassie dropped two sugar cubes in her tea.

“Derek has done a divine job for thirty years, but he’s as dated as an avocado refrigerator. We need a new store manager who understands online networking.” Diana placed her cup on the white porcelain tray. “I’d like to offer her the job permanently.”

“Permanently?” Cassie choked on her tea.

“I’ll give Derek a new title, something that keeps him behind the scenes. I can’t go to the store quite yet, so please bring her here so I can offer her the job in person.” Diana leaned back on the love seat. “Tell me about her, I’m dying to hear.”

Cassie studied yellow tulips in the crystal vase on the coffee table. “Alexis is the store manager.”

“What did you say?”

“Carter is never here and Alexis was dying of boredom. She has amazing fashion sense. Every woman that comes into Fenton’s leaves dressed exactly like her. And she knows everyone. Her cell phone is a Rolodex of San Francisco society.”

“Alexis is running my store,” Diana repeated slowly.

“I thought it was just temporary. You were going to be back in two weeks.” Cassie looked past her mother at the skyline of San Francisco.

“Alexis! The girl who stole my Ferragamos and wore them to her Girl Scout meeting?”

“She was ten years old, and she always admired your taste in shoes.”

“She was a dance major in college.” Diana shook her head.

“At UCLA. You said she’s doing a wonderful job!” Cassie protested.

Diana leaned forward and rearranged the tulips. She tapped her cane on the marble floor and inspected her French manicure.

“Numbers don’t lie. The spring collections are being snapped up like hotcakes.” Diana plucked a dead petal. “Alexis always had a ‘nose’ for fashion, but does she have the work ethic?”

“She runs Fenton’s like a military academy.” Cassie walked to the window. She could see the stone spirals of Grace Cathedral, and the flags flying outside the Mark Hopkins. “The department managers call her the ‘colonel.’”

“Good.” Diana nodded decisively. “Bring her for tea tomorrow afternoon.” Diana eyed Cassie carefully. “You look very well, that dress suits you.”

“We’re almost ready for the opening.” Cassie’s eyes sparkled. “James built a wall of green bookshelves. I’m going to showcase cookbooks signed by local authors.”

“How does Aidan feel about your long hours?” Diana asked curiously.

“He’s going to Italy next week. His paper has been accepted at a conference.” Cassie played with the linen napkin.

“You’re not going with him?” Diana raised an eyebrow. “I can’t see Aidan agreeing to that.”

“He wasn’t happy,” Cassie conceded, “but I’ve put so much time into the emporium. I couldn’t miss the grand opening.”

“It’s time you developed a little backbone. It can only improve your marriage.”

“My marriage is fine.” Cassie kept her eyes on her teacup. She hadn’t told her mother she was still staying with Alexis.

“If only Dr. Jasper would let me go back to work. I’ve read Vogue, W, and Town and Country. I’ve caught up on my invitations and planned a month of menus.” Diana tapped her French nails on the glass.

“Don’t worry, Mother.” Cassie smiled. “Everyone at Fenton’s misses you too.”

*   *   *

When Cassie walked into Alexis’s kitchen, Alexis was scraping the bottom of a fondue pot. She had been eating like a linebacker: ribs and mashed potatoes, sirloin steak in mushroom gravy, but her body was lean and sinewy as a ballerina.

“Pia made fondue, I was so hungry I ate the whole pot. The women in my dog obedience class stopped by Fenton’s. They bought those divine Prada loafers that are comfy as Keds.” Alexis licked the yellow cheese. “We should have a pooch department: sell Burberry dog collars and tiny plaid sweaters.”

“Poodles goes to obedience school?” Cassie helped herself to spinach salad and a French baguette.

“It’s good for him to socialize with other dogs. I’ve met so many women,” Alexis replied. “Dog training is the new Pilates.”

“My mother summoned me to her apartment.” Cassie poured a glass of lemonade.

“That sounds ominous. How is she?”

“Fluttering around like a bird with a broken wing.” Cassie paused to eat a forkful of salad. “She’s very pleased with your numbers.”

“My numbers?”

“You’ve created quite a buzz. In fact”—Cassie sprinkled Hawaiian sea salt on the salad—“she wants to offer you the position permanently.”

“April Fool’s Day is over.” Alexis laughed.

“I’m serious, she was very impressed.”

“Your mother has never liked me. She’s still angry we played dress up with her couture gowns when we were six years old,” Alexis replied.

“You played dress up,” Cassie corrected. “I watered her plants with my plastic watering can.”

“They were fake plants.” Alexis laughed. “You ruined her wood floor.”

“She’s going to give Derek a new title and make you store manager.” Cassie buttered a baguette. “If you want the job.”

“Of course I want the job!” Alexis opened the freezer and took out a carton of ice cream. “I haven’t had this much fun since Barbie summer camp.”

“Great, we’re supposed to have tea with her tomorrow afternoon.”

Alexis scooped ice cream into a bowl and drizzled it with chocolate syrup. “What am I going to tell Carter?”

“You found a job that makes you happy and keeps you from running up his credit cards?”

“We’ve gone over this. Carter wants me to run up his credit cards. He’ll be satisfied when stores give me royal treatment, like Katie Holmes or Posh Spice.”

“Maybe you two should go to couples counseling when he gets back.” Cassie ate a spoonful of Alexis’s ice cream.

“Says the woman who is living here, instead of with her husband in her own home.”

Cassie put the spoon down so it clattered on the tabletop.

“I didn’t mean that, Cassie,” Alexis apologized. “I can’t imagine being in your shoes.”

“I keep thinking I should fly to Italy with Aidan.” Cassie’s eyes filled with tears. “I love working at Fenton’s, but when I curl up in bed my whole body misses Aidan. I lie in the dark and picture Molly Payne. It’s like attending a séance.”

“Being in love is worse than having the common cold.” Alexis pushed the bowl away. “You can’t avoid it and there’s no cure. That’s why they invented ice cream.”

*   *   *

They moved into the home theater and settled down to a chick-flick marathon: The Devil Wears Prada, Confessions of a Shopaholic, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

“I could watch Audrey Hepburn all day.” Alexis spun around in her bucket seat. “She’s a modern Scarlett O’Hara without the southern accent.”

“Did you ever read Gone with the Wind?” Cassie giggled.

“She wears those fabulous hats and men fawn all over her.” Alexis wound her hair into a ponytail. “I have an idea!” She jumped up, her eyes sparkling. “I’ll pretend I’m going shopping. I’ll charge a few things to Carter’s credit card every day. I’ll even run over to Neiman’s during lunch and charge things there too, so he won’t get suspicious.”

“You’re going to pretend you’re shopping every day.” Cassie shook her head. “Wouldn’t it be easier to tell Carter the truth?”

“I’ll tell him eventually.” Alexis paced up and down in front of the screen. “And it’ll be good for Fenton’s. I’ll buy some big-ticket items like the Louis Vuitton spring satchel with the pink and green logos.”

“You have to stop lying to your husband.” Cassie slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet under the chair. Suddenly she was very tired. Her calves ached and her eyelids drooped.

“The first rule to a happy marriage is tell men what they want to hear,” Alexis countered.

“I’m going to bed.” Cassie pulled herself up. “I should have become a nun.”