Free Spooning by Darri Stephens Page B

to ask Margaret. Is ice fishing a recognized Olympic sport? Think, Charlie, think! She's making a scene. What to do? What to do?
    “Oh, I just meant, what size clothing do I get for Jane?” I quickly rebounded.
    “Do I look like her wardrobe assistant?” she barked.
    “No!” I wanted to scream, “but Julie told me you started at
S&S
as Jane's wardrobe assistant five years ago!” I bit my tongue and actually think I tasted blood. I wondered if Margaret had been in this bad of a mood back then too. (Note to self: Don't know? Definitely don't ask!)
    “Oh, and get those flowers off of your desk before Jane sees them,” Margaret sneered. Was it another corporate bylaw or would Jane just take offense to my three wilting daisies fromJ. P., which I had gently transported via the subway to my new job? As another few petals fell I whispered, “He loves me, he loves me not …”

    I
spent the remainder of the afternoon scouring the L.L. Bean and Eddie Bauer Web sites. I was looking for practical yet flattering styles of foul weather gear for incremental to severe cold. Why couldn't they make waders in a nice shade of blue (to match the Diva's eyes, of course). The beaten-down wardrobe assistant (about the twentieth since Margaret's humble days) had finally pointed me in the right direction and had warned me to get multiple sizes of each item.
    “She'll flip if they are too small, implying that she has gained weight. Yet she'll flip if they are too big, implying that you couldn't predict the exact size of her ever-fluctuating waist. Just blame ill-fitting items on the cheap manufacturing found these days.” He gave me a feeble smile of encouragement.
    I found it strange that the retail companies claimed that they would “loan” the clothes to Jane, in return for proper accolades during the credits at the end of the show, but they still wanted them returned. Why? What were they going to do with them after she had worn them? Disgusting! I figured the heads of merchandising knew that they would make a killing by selling slightly worn fishing gear that had once graced the body of Ms. Jane Dough on eBay someday. I found the cutest knit hats on the
InStyle
Web site that were selling for $129.00 (yes, for a hat). I thought that the color would be perfect with Jane's meticulously highlighted hair (little did I know the wrath that would ensue about a month from now when I learned that Jane had a horrible allergy to wool, and thereforehad to go hatless during the entire segment). I also called Skinny Sage in a panic when I realized how many colors long johns came in. Sage was a fashion guru who knew the latest trends yet somehow found those few precious items that would outlast one season. She was always trying to play up her skinny wrists and hide her emaciated rib cage with the hottest new things out there.
    “Black. Black is such a safe bet especially since the tabloids have been covering Jane's weight gain.” You could hear the scorn in Sage's voice. “And black hides a multitude of sins!”
    “Black long johns? You're right, you're right.” Black was New York City's official color! “And I guess nobody will really see them under all these other layers.”
    “But the key is that she'll know,” Sage theorized. Just when I thought I was done, Margaret leaned over and dropped another bomb.
    “Oh, and get gear for the cameraman, Jane's cousin who is also going on the shoot, and the two producers. But make sure to outfit them in colors different than Jane's. Remember that the colors should be complementary and not clash in case any of them end up in a shot. Oh, and make sure none of them will look cuter that Jane—maybe get some unflattering coat styles or something. Jane won't want to be outshone.”
    Outshone? On the friggin’ ice? Didn't Margaret know that Jane would be worrying only about keeping her golden ass warm on the ice? I thought of ordering the Diva a bottle of whiskey to hide in one of her new vest's many