Once the huge penis was bought in, Greg proceeded to get incredibly drunk and sullen. I kept trying to get him to talk to people but he would just sort of scowl so I stopped trying.

By 3:30 most of the food was gone. Harvey wouldn't shut up about his big sale so I tried to stay on the other side of the room from wherever he was.

Then I noticed a woman in a blue Chanel business suit that was moving slowly across my drawings. I approached and watched her. She was older, fifty-five or so, but clearly classy and knew how to dress. She turned and caught me staring at her.

"Hi." I said in a stupid-like fashion.

"You're Fran right?"

"That's me. And you're?"

"Ellen Levee. I love your drawings. You're quite the little designer, aren't you?"

"I try."

"Well, I think they're great."

"Thank you, thank you."

"You know, I don't usually come to these things, but I saw your invitation at LACE when I was there for a mechanizing conceptual thing and well, I thought I'd give it a shot."

"So you're a merchandiser?"

"More like a vendor. I get things made then sell them to companies, hopefully in bulk." She laughed at herself and I made some kind of noise along with her. "I usually do knock-offs."

"Knock-offs?"

"That's right. Like this Chanel suit."

"It's a nice suit."

"I make this suit in four colors, just like this but without the label and they sell for $250.00 dollars."

"That's a knock-off? It looks so real."

"No darling, this is real. I wouldn't want to tell what I paid for it." She laughed again and I tried again to laugh with her but I was quickly trying to figure out what all this could mean for me.

"So are you interested in one of my drawings?"

"Well yes, I suppose I am, but I'm more interested in this one particular design, the coat with the fur collar."

"You want to knock that off?"

"You can't knock something off unless it's already prestigious and expensive. I could actually just steal it, go to my factory and have one my people draw it up and have it made."

"Excuse me?!"

"Hold on, I said I 'could.'"

"You couldn't get away with that."

"I have and I would, but that's not what I'm interested in. I'm interested in starting a line with a name. Fran, huh? I don't know, we'll have to think about that."

"Hey wait a minute, I never said I'd do it."

"Then my dear, you would be a fool. I could be about the best thing that ever happened to you. Here's my card, call me tomorrow." And she left. I was elated, pissed, confused, and stunned. Was this how things happened? I knew there had to be something wrong and I wanted to talk to Greg, but he was now slumped on the floor leaning against his wall of paintings with an empty plastic cup.

"Fran?" I turned and Shirley and Betsy were standing there, smiling and eager to see me.

"You came!"

"Just because you're an asshole doesn't me I'm an asshole." Shirley never lost her smile.

"Touché. Hi Betsy, thanks for coming." It was actually turning out to be a pretty good day...as long as I stayed away from Greg. I figured I'd deal with him later.