snowballed

verb

1. throw snowballs at

2. increase rapidly in size, intensity, or importance

The rest of the week was spent on the couch resting up, going over a few more files for my clothing line, and reading the final reports that Wallace, Denault and Patricia were able to investigate with regards to my kidnapping. It went so fast due to who my step father was and the fact that all of the top brass on the police force owed Wallace a favour or two. Two more guys were arrested and charged with assault and kidnapping, and even though the last three guys were named, no evidence could be found proving they were on the premises.

So a smear campaign was created against their families for their supposed involvement in kidnapping Wallace Overmeyer's step daughter. The gossip mill in this city was in Wallace's powerful control, and it didn't take long for those three guys to turn themselves in to the police. They were given lesser sentences for stepping up, and Wallace had a good talking to their families, giving them a major warning, or they would see their businesses suffering in the future. All in all, the main culprit was locked away for psychological assessment, and the other five were given between two years jail time and three years community service for the two with lesser charges. Their fines were very hefty though, taking a large chunk out of their family wealth.

At the end of that week, I was with Mum and Wallace in the upstairs lounge, showing them my new sleep and lounge wear for women and men, giving them each a gift set of the luxury wear. I'd had a few of my fabrics designs printed on light silks over seas, and when they arrived, I had the new pattern designs created out of my new fabrics, using a local business of professional seamstresses. I only ran off a few sets for everyone in the family. I made a set for Jac-Jac as well, but his designs were of really cute little animals featuring large expressive eyes, hiding in apple trees. I had fun designing his fabric.

Wallace's gift was a long silk robe and a set of pyjamas in dark blues with golden bamboo and peeking birds in greys and silver. I went with a turquoise with grey and navy blue peonies for my mum, with flamingos in pinks and reds in the mix. Her gift set consisted of a night gown and lounge pants with matching robe. This pattern on the silk fabric was one of my favourites and I was thinking of what my mother would love when I designed it. They both loved their gifts.

"So, when will you begin selling these? I just can't imagine you selling these in a department store or somewhere..." My mum paused and I could guess what she was going to say. Her elite status was shining through and it made me giggle.

"Common? Cheap?" I filled in the blanks as she smacked me.

"You know what I mean. These are so high end luxurious, and definitely can't be sold under valued. They are so beautiful, I'm afraid to even wear them." She smiled, and I could tell by the way she was lusting after the clothing set that she really did love them and was afraid to use them.

"I would like to firstly, set up a date with you and maybe Grandma Overmeyer to throw a product party to show case them to your social network and friends. Nibbles, wine, soft music, a beautiful model or two. If we do this right, I could sell a hundred sets just with just your friends list alone." I smile, trying to butter up my mother into accepting my idea. It was like a Tuppware or Almay party and a product endorsement event all rolled into one.

"Then maybe after that, I may find a distributor or sell them on consignment locally. Maybe my own store if demand is high enough?" Both Wallace and my mother nod their heads, liking my ideas.

"Yes! And at the product party, we can get Mrs H to organise the bar and catering side of things."

"I have a small list and contact details of the wives of my associates and business partners that you can use to send invitations to. I am certain they would love to be involved with your business and buy your product."

"Oh, how many contacts are you thinking?" This may be a lot larger than I was originally thinking.

"Three to four hundred. Give or take." He said this with a very straight face.

"Wallace, that isn't a small list and that bumps my home evening party into a full blown runway event. Who the hell am I going to have run this?"

"I'll send you a contact for my event manager, Stella August. She will handle everything. You just need to tell her what you want, get your product made, chose your models from a line up, and be there on the night."

"Goodie bags, ah what do they call them nowadays? Sag, stag?" Mum suggested.

"Swag bags mum." I correct her.

"Have your fabrics made into small scarves and give those with a small bottle of local fruit wine or luxury handmade chocolates. Or both. I can put onto to a client who can supply the chocolates. And probably the wine. So, that's all sorted. That only leaves, what? Invitations to create?"

"I can do those. I think I'll just use a small sample from my fabric design. Um... When do you think we should run this?" I asked.

"When can you get a decent amount of your product sets created?" Mum threw back at me.

"Ah, in a month or two if we get them manufactured internationally. Where should we hold the event, if we're going with four hundred guests?"

"More like eight hundred, my dear." Mum smirked.

"What? That many?" She nodded. So did Wallace.

"We'll hold it right here at the estate, build a runway platform over the outdoor lake, set up the lighting and sound and you will have the biggest event for the launch of your clothing line outside of Fashion Week." He was nodding. I was gaping. Mum was laughing.

Then Wallace's phone rang. It was the hospital. Eyva had finally woken up.