Charisma Part 1

“Tiffany Lawson,” Tiffany identified herself in response to the question that the lady at the other end of the line had asked her.

“Why do you want to see me?”

“I bought one of your bras,” Tiffany explained. “It’s fabulous! I just have to meet you.” After a long moment of silence, Tiffany added, “Please.”

Charisma gave her the address at which she could be found--at least, Tiffany hoped it was the address, finally, at which the superb seamstress could be located and not just another dead end.

Driving like the wind down the broad boulevard that fronted the Pacific Ocean, Tiffany was soon driving up to the huge wrought-iron gate in tall brick wall that enclosed Charisma’s ten-acre estate.

After she’d identified herself to the butler who’d responded to her pressing of the bell beside the gate, the massive gateway opened, admitting her, and Tiffany drove up the quarter mile driveway that led to the mansion at the top of the knoll. Charisma’s chauffeur met her, whisking her car away as she walked up the wide, steep flight of marble stairs that led to the porch at the front of the massive stone house. She stood before the tall, heavy black doors with their gold-plated knocker, knob, and frame, and rang the bell to announce her presence.

The butler answered. “Please, do come in,” he incited in the same arrogant tone of voice he’d used in communicating with her over the intercom when she’d been parked outside the gate. “Madam will see you forthwith.”

Tiffany followed the tuxedo-garbed servant through the luxuriously appointed lobby and into a parlor full of antique furniture. She seated herself on a large, comfortable couch upholstered in red velvet, surveying the room. The furnishings were elegant and opulent, indicating the wealth of the mansion’s mistress more eloquently than words or reputation could hope to have done. Tiffany glanced at the sapphire necklace, the violet velvet blouse, and the black leather mini-skirt and matching thigh-high boots she wore, hoping that Charisma would not think her hopelessly gauche and vulgar.