New York Valentine by Carmen Reid Page B

didn’t come out again until she heard the front door close. Maybe she thought Annie and Lana had both gone out together, when it was Lana setting off for the Empire State Building. Annie was still waiting at the table, fresh coffee cup in hand, to give Elena another team talk.
    ‘OK. Sit down beside me and listen,’ Annie began. ‘We need the list of all the people who put money into Perfect Dress in the first place. Then you, me and Svetlana will call them all up and ask for just a small further investment. We’ll say we have an incredible amount of orders – which is true – and a minor cash-flow problem – which is also true. We’ll tell them they’re going to get this money back in just two months’ time, with interest.’
    Elena, still in her dressing gown, looked at Annie with a pale and uncertain face, then took the seat offered to her.
    ‘Elena, you’ve got a book full of orders and people are expecting dresses in three weeks’ time,’ Annie said sternly. ‘I’m really sorry about the woman who messed things up for you … but we have to do something before it’s too late.’
    ‘Juno Harper. Not even her real name,’ Elena muttered in disgust.
    ‘I’m sorry this has happened to you. But it doesn’t have to be the end of the world unless you want to make it the end of the world. You can get out of this. Your mother wants to help you, and so do I.’
    Elena sighed, ran a hand through her long hair and looked dangerously as if she was about to cry.
    ‘Everyone has setbacks,’ Annie continued, ‘believe me, I’ve had plenty, and especially in business, I promise you. Handling success is easy-peasy, it’s how you handle the setbacks that marks you out. Hey, I bet even Ralph Lauren and Donna Karan had some really bad times. I bet they’ve sat at the kitchen table in pyjamas wondering how on earth they were going to make it work from here.’
    Elena gave a little slip of a smile at this.
    ‘Why don’t you have a shower?’ Annie suggested: ‘wash your hair, do your make-up and put on one of your Perfect Dresses. Remind yourself how good they are. Get a little bit of fire back in your belly. Surely your inner Ukrainian doesn’t want to go down without a fight?’
    Elena smiled more broadly at this. ‘You right,’ she agreed finally, ‘not without a fight.’
    ‘How much money do we need to make the dresses for these orders?’ Annie asked.
    After several moments’ thought, Elena replied: ‘At current factory and material prices, we need about £30,000.’
    ‘Easy,’ Annie said immediately, but really she wasn’t so sure. ‘Go shower and dress, I’ll phone Svetlana.’
    By the time Annie had spoken to Svetlana back in London and they’d divided up the list of previous investors between them, Elena had washed, dried her hair, applied the recommended make-up and put on a pale lilac dress.
    As she stepped out of her bedroom again, she looked almost cheerful.
    ‘You look gorgeous,’ Annie told her, which was true. ‘Now, here’s your list. The first person to get an investment has lunch bought for them … Talking of lunch, is there anything we could have for breakfast, babes? I’m really not at my best on an empty stomach.’
    ‘Café two doors along sells muffins to die for.’
    ‘Shall I go?’
    ‘Yes, I make start on calls.’
    The Village Bakery was indeed a muffin-eater’s paradise. Unable to narrow down the choice, Annie brought back two bagfuls: white chocolate chip, cinnamon and apple, maple and pecan, blueberry and finally banana. Along with two steaming lattes.
    She’d thought the muffins would be divided out between herself, Elena and, later, even Lana.
    She hadn’t counted on Elena nibbling at barely half of a blueberry muffin and leaving her latte untouched. So, in between the tricky phone calls in which she tried to make funding Perfect Dress sound as positive, breezy and tempting as possible, Annie somehow managed to chew her way through three New York sized