Shopaholic to the Stars
Page 4
“Oh, right.” Drat. Danny is one of my best friends and is quite a famous fashion designer. He promised to give me a reference for Dalawear, only it’s been ages now and he hasn’t done anything about it. I texted him yesterday and he promised he would send an email within the hour. I can’t believe he hasn’t.
Actually, that’s not true. I can totally believe it.
“I’ll call him,” I promise. “Sorry about that.”
The truth is, I never should have asked Danny for a reference. But I thought it sounded so cool, having a top fashion designer on my résumé. And I’m sure it helped. They couldn’t stop asking me about him in the interview.
“Rebecca …” Gayle pauses delicately. “You do know Mr. Kovitz? You have met him?”
She doesn’t believe me?
“Of course I know him! Look, leave it with me. I’ll get the reference. I’m really sorry for the delay. See you tomorrow.”
I end the call and instantly speed-dial Danny, trying to stay calm. There’s no point getting cross with Danny; he just wriggles and becomes all plaintive.
“Oh my God, Becky.” Danny answers the phone as though we’re mid-conversation. “You would not believe what I need for this trek. It’s, like, who knew you could get freeze-dried lasagna? And I have the cutest little teakettle; you have to get one.”
This is why Danny is even more distracted than usual at the moment. He’s about to start training to do some celebrity charity expedition across the Greenland ice sheet. Every single person who knows Danny has told him he’s mad, but he’s adamant he’s going to do it. He keeps saying he wants to “give something back,” but we all know it’s because he fancies Damon, the lead singer from Boyz About, who’s also doing it.
Although how you get it together with someone on a Greenland expedition, I have no idea. I mean, can you even kiss? Do your lips stick together in the freezing air? How do Eskimos manage?
“Danny,” I say sternly, wrenching my mind away from an image of two Eskimos stuck together on their wedding day, flailing their arms to break free. “Danny, what about my reference?”
“Sure,” says Danny without missing a beat. “I’m on it. How many pairs of thermal underwear should I take?”
“You’re not on it! You promised you’d send it yesterday! I’ve got to go and see them tomorrow and they don’t believe I even know you!”
“Well, of course you know me,” he says, as though I’m an idiot.
“They don’t know that! This is my only chance of a job in L.A., and I need to have a reference. Danny, if you can’t do it, just tell me and I’ll ask someone else.”
“Someone else?” Only Danny can manage to sound mortally offended when he’s in the wrong. “Why would you ask someone else?”
“Because they might actually do it!” I sigh, trying to stay patient. “Look, all you need to do is send a little email. I’ll dictate it, if you like. Dear Gayle, I can recommend Rebecca Brandon as a personal shopper. Signed, Danny Kovitz.” There’s silence down the phone, and I wonder if he’s taking notes. “Did you get that? Did you write it down?”
“No, I didn’t write it down.” Danny sounds indignant. “That is the crummiest reference I ever heard. You think that’s all I have to say about you?”
“Well—”
“I don’t give out personal references unless I mean them. Unless I’ve crafted them. A reference is an art form.”
“But—”
“You want a reference, I’ll come and give you a reference.”
“What do you mean?” I say, confused.
“I’m not writing three crappy lines on an email. I’m coming to L.A.”
“You can’t come to L.A. just to give me a reference!” I start to giggle. “Where are you anyway? New York?”
Since Danny hit the big time, it’s impossible to know where he’ll be at any moment. He’s opened three new showrooms this year alone, including one in the Beverly Center here in L.A. Which you’d think would tie him down, but he’s always scouting out yet more new cities or going on “inspirational research trips” (holidays).
“San Francisco. I was coming anyway. I need to buy sunblock. I always get my sunblock in L.A. Text me the details. I’ll be there.”
“But—”
“It’ll be great. You can help me choose a name for my husky dog. We each get to sponsor one, but I may sponsor a whole team. It’s going to be, like, such a life-changing experience.…”
Actually, that’s not true. I can totally believe it.
“I’ll call him,” I promise. “Sorry about that.”
The truth is, I never should have asked Danny for a reference. But I thought it sounded so cool, having a top fashion designer on my résumé. And I’m sure it helped. They couldn’t stop asking me about him in the interview.
“Rebecca …” Gayle pauses delicately. “You do know Mr. Kovitz? You have met him?”
She doesn’t believe me?
“Of course I know him! Look, leave it with me. I’ll get the reference. I’m really sorry for the delay. See you tomorrow.”
I end the call and instantly speed-dial Danny, trying to stay calm. There’s no point getting cross with Danny; he just wriggles and becomes all plaintive.
“Oh my God, Becky.” Danny answers the phone as though we’re mid-conversation. “You would not believe what I need for this trek. It’s, like, who knew you could get freeze-dried lasagna? And I have the cutest little teakettle; you have to get one.”
This is why Danny is even more distracted than usual at the moment. He’s about to start training to do some celebrity charity expedition across the Greenland ice sheet. Every single person who knows Danny has told him he’s mad, but he’s adamant he’s going to do it. He keeps saying he wants to “give something back,” but we all know it’s because he fancies Damon, the lead singer from Boyz About, who’s also doing it.
Although how you get it together with someone on a Greenland expedition, I have no idea. I mean, can you even kiss? Do your lips stick together in the freezing air? How do Eskimos manage?
“Danny,” I say sternly, wrenching my mind away from an image of two Eskimos stuck together on their wedding day, flailing their arms to break free. “Danny, what about my reference?”
“Sure,” says Danny without missing a beat. “I’m on it. How many pairs of thermal underwear should I take?”
“You’re not on it! You promised you’d send it yesterday! I’ve got to go and see them tomorrow and they don’t believe I even know you!”
“Well, of course you know me,” he says, as though I’m an idiot.
“They don’t know that! This is my only chance of a job in L.A., and I need to have a reference. Danny, if you can’t do it, just tell me and I’ll ask someone else.”
“Someone else?” Only Danny can manage to sound mortally offended when he’s in the wrong. “Why would you ask someone else?”
“Because they might actually do it!” I sigh, trying to stay patient. “Look, all you need to do is send a little email. I’ll dictate it, if you like. Dear Gayle, I can recommend Rebecca Brandon as a personal shopper. Signed, Danny Kovitz.” There’s silence down the phone, and I wonder if he’s taking notes. “Did you get that? Did you write it down?”
“No, I didn’t write it down.” Danny sounds indignant. “That is the crummiest reference I ever heard. You think that’s all I have to say about you?”
“Well—”
“I don’t give out personal references unless I mean them. Unless I’ve crafted them. A reference is an art form.”
“But—”
“You want a reference, I’ll come and give you a reference.”
“What do you mean?” I say, confused.
“I’m not writing three crappy lines on an email. I’m coming to L.A.”
“You can’t come to L.A. just to give me a reference!” I start to giggle. “Where are you anyway? New York?”
Since Danny hit the big time, it’s impossible to know where he’ll be at any moment. He’s opened three new showrooms this year alone, including one in the Beverly Center here in L.A. Which you’d think would tie him down, but he’s always scouting out yet more new cities or going on “inspirational research trips” (holidays).
“San Francisco. I was coming anyway. I need to buy sunblock. I always get my sunblock in L.A. Text me the details. I’ll be there.”
“But—”
“It’ll be great. You can help me choose a name for my husky dog. We each get to sponsor one, but I may sponsor a whole team. It’s going to be, like, such a life-changing experience.…”
