Free A Dangerous Dress by Julia Holden

expect from your best friend’s father. But that was probably my imagination. And if it wasn’t, I figured it must just be a cultural difference.
    “It is destiny,” Gerard Duclos said, when he finally stopped hugging me.
    “Destiny?”
    “Your grandmère gives you the beautiful dress,” he said. “You write the magnificent paper, and send it to your best friend. My daughter. Years pass. Now I am making the movie. No matter what I do, I cannot find the dress. I weep, I moan, I complain to everyone. Celestine says to me, ‘You must read my friend’s paper.’ I do, and I say, ‘This is the girl. The girl who can bring me Catherine’s dress. The perfect dress.’ So you see, destiny has brought you to me.”
    And I thought it was Google. Then again, here I was in Paris. I remembered my conversation with Celestine after she read my paper. Maybe it really was destiny.
    Gerard Duclos led me around the room. He introduced me to the UPM (unit production manager) and the line producer, and the first AD and second AD, which in both cases stands for assistant director. Then he took me to a big table covered with fashion sketches, where a nice-looking middle-aged woman was sitting. Her hair was very gray, but she wore it long and straight. I thought that was actually quite impressive of her. Most women would have dyed it and cut it years and years ago, but it looked very nice on her. Even before I met her, I liked her.
    “This is Irene Malraux,” said Gerard. He pronounced it ee-REN mahl-ROW, only with the r sounds way at the back of his throat. I can only make that sound when I have a bad cold, but then it’s not attractive. “She is our costume designer.”
    Right away I was terrified. This woman was a professional, not to mention a real grown-up. And here I was, a total amateur, not to mention just twenty-five. I had never designed costumes for a movie. In fact, I had never designed anything for anything. I just wrote a college paper about my Grandma’s dress. I figured Irene probably hated me.
    “I loved your paper,” Irene said, smiling. If she was lying, she should have been an actress instead of a costume designer. “I am very happy you are here to help us.” She actually looked happy. Oh thank you Irene. Thank you thank you. “Gerard and I have made many movies,” she said. “But in this period, I am not such an expert as you.” Which made me blush. “I have many ideas,” she said, and waved at the sketches. “But Gerard does not like.”
    “We cannot make the new dress,” Gerard Duclos said. “We need the old dress. The perfect dress.” He smiled and nodded, as if he had said something profoundly wise. “So,” he finally said. “Give me the dress.”
    “What?”
    “The dress. Your grandmère ’s dress. This is why I brought you here. Give it to me. ”
    Now wait just a second. I thought back to what Elliot Schiffter had said. He did not say I had to give them Grandma’s dress. He said I had to show it to them. But now Gerard most certainly wanted me to give it to him. And, forgive me if I state the obvious, but the difference is crucial.
    I spoke without even thinking. “I didn’t bring it.”
    Irene Malraux gasped, and her eyes got wide.
    “What did you say?” In an instant, Gerard’s expression had turned to stone.
    Which only made me more certain that I did not want to hand Grandma’s dress over to these people. Who knew what they would do with it? The way Gerard kept demanding it gave me a very bad feeling. So I said, “Elliot Schiffter didn’t say you wanted to use Grandma’s dress. He only said you wanted me to help you find a dress.” Which was what Elliot said. Sort of.
    I guess that was not what the great director Gerard Duclos wanted to hear. “Send her away,” he instructed Irene, and turned to leave.
    “No!”
    Irene did not say that. I did. In fact I fairly shouted it. Anyway it worked. Gerard stopped and turned back to look at me. He still looked pretty