He glanced up from one of Heather’s sketches to see Alberto coming into the studio. “Is there a problem in Paris?” “No. The problem is here.” Alberto waved at Heather’s work. “This—this is a disaster.” Jean-Luc laid the sketch down. “This was my decision, Alberto. I do not need to defend it.” He lowered his gaze. “I don’t mean to upset you, Jean-Luc, but you taught me yourself that your designs are only for a privileged few.” Jean-Luc’s anger was tempered by the desperation on Alberto’s face. Clearly the man believed Heather’s project was a mistake. “I know this idea is unorthodox, but I want to try it.” “It will make you a laughingstock in the fashion world. None of the Hollywood stars will wear your gowns if they’re being worn by the common folk.” “You and I both come from common folk.” “Yes, but we rose above that.”
