āIf you have a prayer of a career in the beauty biz, you have to go through me. Youāll never make it east of the Susquehanna, let alone the Hudson. New Yorkās way out of your league. I can make sure your welcome comes with a wakeup call thatāll have you running right back to St.Ā Louis.ā I looked her in the eye, heart banging against my ribs.
āIām taking the next opportunity. Youāve done this too, in your own career. I give you total credit, Linda. Youāve taught me fairness to all employees, the importance of listening to their suggestions and concerns, and recognising work done well.ā Her employees complained to HR so often, we both knew the last part was a complete crock. āIāve flown here to explain face-to-face.ā She sipped her coffee, no doubt as stone cold as she was.
āIāll give you twenty-four hours to reconsider.ā
āDarling Emma, Lindaās savvy and sensed this was coming,ā Neil said when I called from my hotel room. āIf not this offer, youād take the next one. Youāre quick, smart, and not the type to be stagnant in your career. Of course you want to behave professionallyāfair warning, proper exit and all thatābut you must watch out for yourself over everything and everyone else. Itās the lesson every OāFarrell learns in the crib. Now buck up. Iāll see you in New York.ā
Sweaty fist-to-queasy gut I called Lindaās voicemail within the twenty-four hours, couched my message in gratitude, and added Iād accepted the New York offer. She did not reply.
The stand-off with Ethan continued. He left our business matters to me, and the lease was in my name. Our landlord agreed to break it. (He could raise the rent for new tenants.) I left Ethan the details in voicemail.
Mid-month, in decent weather, I returned to Brucknerfield for Easter weekend. I attended Maxineās church service by myself, hugged her during the greeting, and assured her Ethan was well. My parents were speaking to Dadās parents again so we crossed the field. Darby arranged an egg hunt for Genevieveās kids, and while my nephews searched the sorry landscaping for plastic containers, Dad ground yet another cigarette butt into the dirt and slung his arm around me.
We lingered over what passed as family dinner as my sisterās well-being, Dadās health, and my disintegrating marriage chewed at me. The distance to New York, and my doubt chewed at me as I assured my ragged family Iād stay in touch. I needed the separation as much as the job. Ethan did too, whether he knew it or not. New York would keep us from life in a doublewide off an unpaved Missouri road.
My Olympia team surprised me with a farewell party full of my key regional directors and loyal store managers. No Ms.Ā Clarkson, of course, but even Andrew caught a turnaround flight from Chicago to laugh and reminisce. I returned to my half-packed apartment and a phone message that Ethan had rented an apartment with a teammate. He didnāt name the place or the person; I didnāt call him back.
The morning the van arrived, Dad surprised me in his latest beat-up car, insisting on helping me pack. Never mind there was little left to do. I burst into tears and buried my face into his familiar, tobacco-scented shirt.
He held me at armās length. āOāFarrellās got another success coming. No tears. I already brag on you like I do Cousin Neil. In fact I brag to Neil. Youāll make us proud, up there with them corporate big shots.ā
āItās not working out the way I planned,ā I whispered.
āLook here, Ems, you know Ethanās got a dream he canāt shake, stubborn as me and your mother. Heāll come around.ā
I hugged him hard, terrified of the hole Iād dug myself into, but there was no backing down. Movers packed the truck for the cheapest corporate relocation ever. Iād gotten rid of our hand-me-downs, cast-offs and thrift store items. They loaded Ethanās motley treasures, our out-of-season clothes, and the few decent household items weād bought together, all of it destined for storage. Iād been allotted six weeks in a residential hotel while weānow Iāfound permanent housing.
The sterile apartment looked as though weād never occupied it. The truck drove off. Dad hugged me as my airport car service idled at the curb. āIt was a good run,ā I managed, not sure if I meant my professional St.Ā Louis days or my marriage.
My flight to New York was as bumpy as the trail Iād blazed to get there. My burgeoning luggage and I were delivered to the Upper East Side boutique hotel the company provided for eight weeks. Welcome to Platinum & New York! See you Monday morning, All best, Marsha, peeked from a spring arrangement.
I unpacked and settled into the eight hundred and fifty square foot suite. The wet bar included a microwave, fully stocked mini-fridge plus tea/coffee station, and pantry shelf. Comfy couch and club chairs separated the almost-kitchenette from a pine desk and work space. Ethan would love it all.
When I was sure I could trust my voice, I called him. āI made it. Iām here,ā I said to the recording. āYouād like this hotel. Itās right over from Central Park. Practically an apartment. We have French doors into the separate bedroom. Itās all English country style, the sort of sofa youād plop right intoāā I stared at the dark TV screen.
āNever mind. Iām tired of rambling into an empty phone every time I try to talk things out. Youāre out there chasing your own dream. I get that. You know I do. You make me crazy, Ethan. Okay, Maybe I hate you for refusing to come with me, but thatās not the worst part. The worst partās I love you. I need you here.ā I hung up and filled the cast iron, claw foot tub with scalding water and complimentary bath salts, then soaked till my fingers pruned. Navigating life alone in New York City had never been the plan.
Weād been given the weekend to settle in and explore so Saturday I crossed two blocks to Fifth Avenue, thinking of the Missouri bumpkin five years earlier here to train for Linda Clarkson. She lived here, too. I wandered up to the Metropolitan Museum of Art over to Madison, half expecting her to spring from behind a bush or a bus.
I paused for men loading a Range Rover and followed them into Lobelās Meat Market. Charts on the wall and the sound of cleavers and hacksaws. I ached for the son of the butcher who had to convince me Brucknerfield had a meat judge team.
Monday morning, the last week in April, 1995, I left my hotel at 8:30 a.m. sharp, for the brisk walk to my new office. Corporate headquarters filled two floors within a midtown high rise and Marsha had spared no expense. I had just enough time to admire the frosted glass, gleaming chrome, high tech ambiance of the executive area before I realised the executive hall crackled with tension and awkward whispers.
Marsha called me into her office and gestured at the chairs facing her desk. āWelcome. I am not a fan of gossip and youāre not to be, either. I know things appear unsettled.ā
āNo more than I am.ā I sat down. āIām looking forward to unpacking and digging into orientation information.ā
āYou should know Iāve let the director of sales go.ā
āWas there a problem?ā
Brief as it was, she studied me. āEmma, Iāve been brought on board to fulfil an agenda. Entre nous Youāre not to tell a soul but this terminationās been in the works for weeks.ā Entre nous?
āThings are going smoothly. I timed pulling the plug to your arrival.ā She studied me again. āThereās another issue, however. One thatās less clear. Iāve been led to believe I might have misjudged you.ā
I shifted in my seat.
āAn old nemesis who disguises herself as a colleague seems to think sheās done me a favour by forewarning me. āNot ready for The Big Appleā is how she put it. āā¦a reputation for brash behaviour. Disloyal.ā Frankly, sheās never exactly had my back.ā
Her phone call was decidedly out of character. I could feel the heat in my face.
Marshaās feet barely touched the floor but she managed to spin in her chair, French twist pivoting in front of me. āHave I hired an incompetent, scheming, Missouri red neck?ā
Oh my God. āYouāre referring to Linda Clarkson. You ask so Iāll answer. Linda put time and effort into my training and it paid off. Youāve seen my resume, the awards for my results. She and Olympia Beauty have profited a lot from my expertise. Sheās furious, vindictive ā Iām appreciative. I was loyal. I gave her everything for five years.ā We made eye contact. āSheās lost the best account executive sheās ever had, but itās time I move on from my Midwest territory.ā
Marsha spun again. āAnd I can count on that loyalty?ā
āOf course.ā
āThank you. Youāre being quite diplomatic, considering.ā She had no idea how long it had taken me to understand vindictive, snippy, truth telling could haunt me worse than any business foul-up. āIām aware of her anger, but Iām also aware of what sheās losing.ā
Marsha raised an eyebrow. āI shall remain cautiously optimistic.ā
The office manager handed me HR folders on relocation services and orientation, then whisked along a two-floor tour covering corporate team introductions to coffee making kitchen rules (four scoops per full a pot). Veronica Williams, Director of Marketing, took me to lunch. I returned from comfortable chat sprinkled with industry politics to find a third woman waiting.
āWelcome to Platinum. Shelia Bianco, Marshaās assistant.ā She gestured. āSecond best office on the executive floor.ā Second best and clearly recently vacated. It even smelled faintly antiseptic. Manhattan filled the windows. Cartons and files marked Emma Paige sat on the sleek desk in the otherwise sterile space. She smiled. āWhen youāre ready to start house or apartment hunting, let me know and Iāll connect you with Platinumās relocation team.ā She handed me a thin folder.
āYouāll need to review and sign this revised employment letter.ā I skimmed until I hit $105,000 on the annual salary line.