Ruby Ceit Excerpt

 

   It was just after eight p.m. Ruby was locking the front door of her dress shop, Ruby Ceit Fashions. It was all hers. Alton and Foster had folded their art exhibit side of the store.  

  She was in a hurry because Alton had asked her the day before to meet him at a cocktail party in Brooklyn Heights.   

  

  He and Foster had worked in the Philbin’s Brooklyn office that day and were already networking at the party.    

  Ruby worked six days a week from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m., 9 p.m. to 3 p.m. on Sundays. She closed the shop on Mondays.  

  Her social life had been lacking. A couple of hours of socializing would be enjoyable. And she was always looking for new clients. 

  Ruby was doing well with her shop after three years, but in New York there were always new fashion trends to keep ahead of and she was good at spotting them. She was developing high-end women’s clothing.  

  A taxi dropped her off in front of a large nineteenth century brownstone one block from Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn Heights. It was three stories and occupied an entire corner. She had texted Alton to meet her at the front door.  

  Alton had gone into advertising with Foster. They worked for the Philbins most of the time. He and Foster had finagled their way into writing scripts for tv commercials and other ads. They focused on humor. They had worked freelance on multiple ads and almost landed a Superbowl spot. Next time.  

  Alton met Ruby at the door. Tall, lanky, handsome, and sharply dressed.  

  Ruby was standing back a few feet from the door under the subdued lighting of the expansive porch chandelier. "Nice blouse!" Alton exclaimed, "That's a new one. Looks great!" It was a roomy laser cut light silver cashmere blouse with buttons on the front and puffed sleeves. The laser cuts were alternating diamond shapes around the waist.  

  "Yes, thank you. While you were snoring, I sketched it. Lily and I made it in minutes today," Ruby replied. Alton chuckled as Ruby walked through the front door.  

  Alton stayed at Ruby’s a few days a week. They had been together for over three years, and he was talking about marriage. She was thinking about it.  

  Once inside, the refurbished interior impressed Ruby. There were several rooms leading off the main hall, but most of the guests were in the large main living room. There were probably fifty people scattered throughout the first floor, all well dressed and chatting amiably.  

  Ruby kissed Foster on the cheek. He too was casually dressed, but up to the minute concerning men's fashion nuances. She noticed his black hair was thinning.  

  Alton introduced Ruby to people that he and Foster knew. 

  The owners of the home had made their way from room to room greeting everyone. They were now sauntering toward Ruby, Alton, and Foster.  

  Simon and Shawna Philbin, a nice-looking couple in their fifties, owned a large advertising agency in Brooklyn with an office in Manhattan. They had a sizeable turnover in personnel and freelance contractors were always coming and going, so they held cocktail parties every few months to schmooze.  

  They stopped and exchanged pleasantries with Alton and Foster, then Simon said to Alton, "Who's the swan?", while looking at Ruby.  

  "Simon!" Shawna said in faux contempt, "Alton told us all about Ruby Swan." Simon smiled and shook Ruby's hand, and they all launched into small talk.  

  After a few minutes Shawna began raving about Ruby's blouse then other women gathered around her. Ruby's gorgeous red-black hair draped over her blouse was stunning, and it made the blouse stand out even more. 

  Alton was taking it all in. People gravitated to Ruby. She was beautiful, but easy to talk to. There were times when he had to pry men away from her.  

   More drinks on trays were carried through the guests by the caterer servers and 'pigs in blankets' were mixed in with other Hors d'oeuvres which made people chuckle.   

  After two hours of networking and small talk, the clinking of ice in rock glasses began to dwindle, and the New Yorkers knew the party was over.  

  And just like that, they all began herding toward the exit, thanking the Philbins on their way out. 

  Alton went outside with Foster and another man. Ruby was still chatting with some women about fashion trends as they walked out and down the front steps.  

  Alton was standing at the bottom. "Hey," he said affectionately, "I was about to go get you. Foster just left." They walked along the sidewalk toward Atlantic Avenue where they hailed a cab.  

  "The Philbins are a colorful duo," Ruby said.  

  "They really enjoy what they do, and they want everyone to have fun. Open up. Be creative," Alton said.  

  "Something like those two bums you hung around with. Hanky and Muddy, or something?" Ruby asked.  

  Alton laughed and said, "Swanky and Puddle.”   

  When they reached Bowery and 3rd Street, near Cessily’s apartment, Alton's phone vibrated. 'Brandon- 10 am. Westies Cafe, Columbus Ave. Alton texted back, 'Awesome' and added a thumbs up emoji.  

  "Foster", he said to Ruby, "Big day tomorrow. We may have a new client."  

  "That's great," Ruby replied in an upbeat voice.   

  "It's Awesome! Good luck to us!" Alton said, then kissed Ruby and got out of the cab. Ruby smiled. "Call you tomorrow," he said and waved.     

  Alton was staying with his sister Cessily. Her roommate, Shelby, had gone back to Minnesota, and he was paying half of the rent.    

  Cessily was already asleep. She started at eight in the morning. Two years before she had started working as a child psychologist’s assistant in a children's hospital.     

  Alton laid clothes out for the morning, washed up, then unfolded his tri-mattress onto the living room floor.   

  The next morning Ruby was in her shop arranging three 15-yard bolts of cashmere fabric. One in light silver, one in martini green, and one in navy blue. She put them on a table next to her large diode laser bed.  

  She had the stockroom bathroom enlarged, called it a lady's lounge, and she cut fabrics in there. The smoke would go out of the exhaust vent that was connected to the enclosed bathroom’s exhaust fan. After every use she or Lily would fold up the bed and tuck it away.  

  The laser wasn’t an open flame, so it wasn't exactly against city ordinances. They didn't use it every day, and only for an hour or so when they did.     

  Ruby had programmed the design for her latest blouse (the one she’d worn to the cocktail party) the day before into the laser cutter software. When the laser was ready, she tried a test spot on a small piece of cashmere. It looked fine. She and Lily made three petite, nine medium, and three a bit larger.    

  Ruby laid them out on shelves near the shop windows, and put them on half mannequins, too. She received so many compliments on her blouse the night before that she was sure they would sell quickly.  The sale price was $450.00 each.    

  The inside of the shop was a delight. The walls were custom-painted street scene murals Alton had painted, with gorgeous models wearing clothes that Ruby had designed. And the murals were all in 3d! Customers loved the murals and would say that they felt as though the shop was three times larger than it looked.  

  That same morning, Alton hurried out of the apartment building and over to Bowery to hail a cab. He was going uptown to meet Foster and the potential client. He was nervous because this contact could be huge for them. But they were going to torpedo the Philbins and that was making him apprehensive. The Philbins had been good to him and Foster, but Foster assured him that this was standard operating procedure in New York City while doing business.  

  Foster's former colleague, Brandon Rhymes, had recently begun working for a big ad agency. He needed help with a new ad. 

  He had been wooed to last night’s cocktail party by Shawna Philbin, who had done business with him before. 

  Foster had spoken to him briefly at the party, and Brandon had winked at him. Foster understood. If Foster played payola with him, the Philbins would be history. Earlier in the evening Brandon had probed Simon for payola, but Simon played dummy.   

  They met outside Westie’s café and after cordial handshakes, they sat at a small table together. The May sky was lit up by bright morning sunshine and it was warm enough to sit outside.  

  Alton sat on the edge of his chair, his elbows on his knees. Foster shot him a glance, and he sat up straight. Brandon suppressed a chortle.  

  Brandon got down to business and explained what he was looking for. It was a new men’s hair growth solution, and it actually worked, he said. But the last set of commercials didn't excite balding men to buy the product. The commercials were too edgy with shocking humor.  

  The company that owned the product now needed to attract consumers or sell it.  

  Humor, Brandon said. Not too goofy or sophomoric. Not degrading or insulting. Endearing, with a good laugh, was the goal. Brandon added to Foster, "Maybe you could try the product. Before and after pics, while you're developing the ad." Then Foster remembered why he didn't like Brandon. Disliked him immensely.    

  They had worked together at an ad agency and were always competing and thwarting one another. The reality now was that Brandon clawed his way into a lucrative position, with a contract.  

  Years before, Foster struck out on his own and did all right. His best ad was Alton's giant 3d painting of Ruby.  

  Brandon knew that Foster needed the opportunity he was offering, and he was going to enjoy extracting a pound of flesh from him. Foster would have to swallow his pride because it was quite possible that he and Alton would be catapulted into the big leagues of multi-media advertising.       

  The meeting went well. Foster and Alton would need to come up with an idea and a presentation in a couple of weeks.  

  At the dress shop by the end of the day, many of the new blouses were sold. Lily had gone home, and Ruby was busy with paperwork at the counter. There were a few customers browsing around.    

  At just about 7 p.m., Shawna Philbin walked into the shop. "What a fabulous shop, Ruby! Look at those murals!” she exclaimed. 

  Surprised, Ruby said, "Hello Shawna! Thanks for coming in." After they exchanged pleasantries, Shawna began sincerely gushing about the clothes.  

  Shawna tried on a few skirts and blouses while asking Ruby's opinion. She had a mane of almost copper colored hair, and she fretted about what color clothes she should buy. Then, out of nowhere, she dropped a hand grenade and said, "Simon heard through the grapevine that Alton and Foster had breakfast with a potential client of ours today. At a cafe in Columbus. They had toasty bagels, a variety of cream cheeses, and a carafe of hot coffee on a warmer," she paused for a moment then said, " It was an unauthorized meeting."    

  Ruby was stunned and immediately lost her smile. "I-I don't know what to say-" Ruby began, but Shawna said, 

  "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you had no idea. And it doesn't really matter anyway because this guy Brandon hinted at kickbacks, and we don't like to play that game-not anymore. A few times when we started out, we did, but now we don't. Gifts. Lunches. Dinners. Yankees, Mets, Jets, Giants, Rangers, and Knicks tickets. That usually does it. Sometimes we offer our ski condominium for a weekend to a large client, but no cash back. It's gauche and word gets around. Simon had the idea that Foster would have no qualms about wooing a client, gauche or not, because he's done it before. Not with us but with another agency.      

  “Simon believes Foster and Alton are going to knock one out of the park again, as your ad did." Ruby smiled again. " But you might want to mention this to Alton. If he wants to stay in this biz, he and Foster better not do it again and Simon will expect cooperation, as needed, or word leaks out that Brandon Rhymes was our customer, and other roadblocks." Ruby stopped smiling again. "Just business in the Big Apple, Ruby," Shawna said. 

  Shawna abruptly changed the subject. "These are all your designs?" Shawna asked. Ruby, still shocked by that warning for Alton and what that could mean for him, composed herself and said they were. She had other brands scattered around the store, but her clothes held the spotlight.  

  "I like everything you've done. No, I mean it," Shawna said, "You're going to have your own brand out there. That's what you're planning." Ruby half- smiled and looked away. Shawna smiled and said, "I'll take this gorgeous black skirt and this even more gorgeous navy-blue blouse."  

  About an hour later, Alton was standing in front of Ruby's apartment building as she was getting out of a cab.  

  "Hi beautiful," he said. He tried to take her hand, but she pulled away.  

  "The name Shawna Philbin ring any bells?" Ruby asked.  

  Alton, shocked, said, "What happened? Is this about the client meeting today? "  

  " Shawna came into my shop and said you two crooks stole a client from her, "she said.  

  "She said crooks?” He asked.  

  "No. She did say not to do it again, since you and Foster know many of their clients. They are going to expect now, or they will use their connections as roadblocks against you, if you do it again."  

  Alton was quiet. "Go home tonight. I have things to do," and Ruby turned toward the door.  

  " I'm sorry, Ruby. I didn't mean for this to happen," Alton said.  

  "I know. We’ll talk tomorrow," and she keyed her building’s entrance door. 'You could have at least warned me,' she thought, then went in.  

  Ruby loved Alton. She really did. He was different from Marcus. She remembered enough to know the difference. Marcus was privileged. He was raised in the top one percent. He became a captain of the industries he was in. Very smart investments and partnerships. He built a huge fortune from his family's substantial fortune.  

  Alton still had an air of privilege about him, or maybe more like confidence. Either way, she thought, it was probably because he was raised at a country club. He had good manners but not as refined as Marcus. Alton could be boisterous, but he was aware of that, and he could dial it back. All in all, he was a good young man. He had said he loved her, and of that she was certain.  

  Ruby went up to her second-floor condominium, showered, and changed into baggy warmups.      

  After chatting with her roommate, Alyssa, and tidying up, Ruby prepared her bedroom desk with a sketchpad and pencils. She turned on the desk lamp and switched the ceiling fan light off.  

  She stood at the foot of the bed; the space she used for yoga stretches. She began her ritual the same way each night.  

  When she was about to sketch, she would stand up straight, close her eyes and breathe deeply. Then she would focus on an idea she had been thinking of lately. A street trend. Casual clothes that were decades old. Extravagant gowns from the Victorian Era. After a time, ideas would form. Smoky images.  

  She would eventually sit and Croquis, or sketch. After finishing she would tuck the sketches into a drawer of her desk. At the end of the week, she would go through and decide what to discard and what to keep.  

  She loved that bedroom. She was comfortable there because it was hers as a child.    

  Her parents met in NYC decades before at an acting studio on Bank Street. There were always classes and skits going on, and they enjoyed the theater.   

  They had both recently graduated from college. Her mother had a degree from NYU in Ancient Studies. She landed her first job as an assistant curator at The Frick Museum. Her father had a master's degree in finance from Brown University and had recently started working as an executive assistant at a venture capital firm in the financial district in Lower Manhattan.  

  By the time they had married, a year later, they could afford a two-bedroom condominium in the NOHO section. Ruby was born a year after.  

  Ruby only lived there until she was six, but she could remember it. They were fond memories. But her mother was raised in New Jersey on the border with Bucks County, Pennsylvania, and wanted Ruby to have space.    

  They kept the condominium and leased it. Her father worked at his company’s office in Princeton, New Jersey, commuting to the Manhattan office once or twice a week.    

  Ruby turned off the light and climbed into bed. Before she dozed, she reminded IT that she was not doing her dreaming service until she finished her summer designs.   

  She had been tasked by Smythe (whom she still only met in dreams) with searching for conjuring sticks and stones downtown. Over the past year she found quite a few of them. She would email their whereabouts to Smythe who would then send someone to retrieve them in the waking world. She understood that these gates added to the mayhem in the streets..

...  Foster and Alton had to finish some work on Sunday morning for the Philbins and later in the day they hired a sedan and picked up Cessily. They arrived at Ruby’s family’s home at 5 p.m. Micheal Williams had arrived ten minutes earlier. They were empty-handed because Sophie had said not to bring anything.  

  After shaking hands, or hugging, everyone moved to the large den at the back of the house.  

  In a few minutes, the ladies came out of the kitchen with pre-dinner snacks. Beer and wine coolers were in a Viking boat shaped ice bucket called a swoop.   

  Alton mentioned a new client and the older men wanted to know all about it, but they didn't ask how they met the client. Foster offered that he was a colleague from years before.  

  Steve went out and fired up the large outside grill then came back in for the steaks. He went back out to cook them and the men followed.  

  The conversation changed to sports and their golf outing the next day. Steve, Alton, Cessily and Foster were taking Monday off.   

  The marble rib eye steaks were specially delivered from a butcher near Somerset, PA. When they had originally moved into the house, someone had told Steve about the tender corn-fed beef in that area and that it was the best you could buy. No need for tenderizers.  

  Sophie had set the patio table earlier. Ruby and Cessily helped bring out the side dishes. They had tossed green salad with a cherry tomato vinaigrette dressing, Southern Style potato salad, Cowboy Caviar, a small dish of Lemony Cucumber Couscous Salad, homemade baked beans with smoked bacon and tangy BBQ sauce, and deep-fried steak fries.  

  The sun was almost down, and the low watt solar powered string lights strung around the ivy-covered patio pergola slowly blinked on. On the table Sophie had lit two unscented candles in light yellow mosaic tea light candle holders.  

  The high wooden privacy fence around the patio and swimming pool was also draped with vines, flowering plants, and solar string lights. Steve had turned the lights on in the heated pool and jacuzzi, and a mist was rising in the cooling air. He had also plugged in on the two seven-foot patio heating lamps for comfort. Soft rock music quietly played through the outside stereo speakers.   

  Everyone sat down and began chatting to the person next to them.  

  Ruby picked up her wine glass and tapped it lightly with her knife, “A toast. A toast, please, " Everyone stopped talking, " I'd like to toast Alton and Foster on acquiring their new client." And she clinked her glass lightly against the A-1 bottle. Her mother and Cessily tittered and said 'Cheers' and 'Good Luck' together with the men.  

  Alton and Foster weren't sure if that was a sarcastic dig or a real toast. She had told Alton she wasn't mad anymore but hadn't spoken to Foster about the Philbin incident, yet.    

  She was mad at them for the way they got the client, but she was really mad that they had to steal. They should have been able to find that type of client under less politically correct circumstances. Anyway, she had a beaming smile for them both and all was well. The slightly worried look that Alton had been wearing disappeared.  

  The conversations went on through dinner, mostly about the young people's careers. When it was Cessily's turn to be questioned Alton couldn't help but interrupt. "Cessily has a new boyfriend named Robbie," he said. 

   "That's right," Ruby said, "But no one has met him yet."    

  Cessily blushed. She more than liked Robbie, but there was a problem. She did not like living in the city anymore. The random violence had become insane. She had completely dropped her anarchist act only days before she met Robbie at the children's hospital.  

  He was an NYPD detective investigating domestic abuse at the time, which was also getting to her.  She didn't want to bring any of that up at dinner.  

  She was also riding cabs door to door. 

  "My job is challenging, but I enjoy it. Robbie is a great guy. I'll bring him around soon." And that was all she offered, but she did mention a street fair she and Robbie had gone to a couple of weeks before. She didn’t mention the natural magnetism between them.   

  Everyone had dug into the tasty dishes and the oohs and ahhs were heard repeatedly, especially after tasting the ribeye steaks. They actually melted in their mouths.  

  "How in the heck did they get these so tender," Foster asked.  

  "Organic feed," Micheal said, " I tried to find a butcher in the same area for the club, but they're small butcher shops and they couldn't handle the volume. The cattle are sold by local farmers, who also have the best organic produce.” 

  The conversation went from butchers and farmers to other topics, but eventually to golf again and how the guys needed to brush up on their game. On the upcoming July Fourth weekend, they had a match against one of Steve's colleagues from the Manhattan office.    

  His name was Richy Aiello. He had membership at a Northern New Jersey golf club, and he challenged Steve.  

  Steve knew that Alton and Micheal were scratch golfers, and he had heard that Foster was, too. Foster had been golfing at his family's club since he was a youngster.  

  After the dinner ended and the table was cleared Sophie brought a Bavarian Chocolate Cake from the kitchen and set it down. Micheal had picked it up at a German bakery in Doylestown earlier in the day.  

  More oohs and ahhs.   

  The evening wore on, and the conversations stayed light and humorous, over tea and coffee.