The powers that be finally named the Salvador Rosa fragrance Charade as we settled into massive planning mode with prestige retailers in North and South America. We scheduled the global press event launch at the Guggenheim Museum during New York Fall Fashion Week. Advertising and creative back-story would emphasise 1940’s vintage fashion and Henry Mancini’s music.
Marsha did indeed travel nearly sixty percent of the time. She and Brian maintained separate out-of-the-office schedules. For all I knew, by design. With the Charade launch looming, she spared no expense taking me as National Sales Manager to meetings with Platinum’s largest retailers, prestige department stores, and highest profile designers and CEOs.
Our Midwest turnaround jaunts were familiar, of course. But LA, San Francisco (and Rodeo Drive side trips to upgrade my wardrobe) kept me breathless. I gained invaluable exposure, watched this pro at work, mastered the business lunch and deals over dinner. Marsha was the reason I rose so high so fast.
Pleasing Marsha remained Priority One, despite anxious moments when her padded expense accounts or aggressive behaviour ignited flashes of my rules-bending childhood. Platinum employed me at her behest; I was wary but not unwilling. Although none of my winter-into-spring Manhattan appointments had the pizzazz of my Pierre Meysselle evening, Dustin continued to arrange hotel rooms when events kept me in the city. Ludlow was losing its appeal and until Ethan left again for spring training, he often joined me.
Months of Brian in this mix strained everything from decorum to deception. He grandstanded endlessly, inflating sales and fabricating personnel contacts. If his advice resulted in mistakes, he routinely inferred I held some responsibility. When Jennifer Rocket discovered a counter rep in her New England district masterminding fragrance fraud, she orchestrated a risky sting in the high-end Connecticut store, and quietly removed the culprit. She never alerted Brian. He would be held accountable and use it against me.
Less than a month later she insisted on lunch outside the office. “You know how Brian raves about Daddy Steve and their domestic bliss. Saturday, I went gallery hopping with old roommates in our old Chelsea neighbourhood. What are the frigging chances I’d be standing at the light on Tenth and he’s leaving the ‘spa’ behind me?”
She made air quotation marks and looked at the ceiling.
“It’s a cover for a notorious gay brothel. We locked glances and Mr Pillsbury Doughboy fell into full Smokescreen Mode, red as a sweaty beet.” She grew serious. “He babbled his head off. Steve had asked him to check on a painting for their living room… He couldn’t find the gallery… He’d thought someone at the spa desk could give him directions. Did I love watercolours as much as he did? Was that me at MoMA Thursday night?”
“Emma, I wanted to be anywhere but there. Now I know his creepy little secret. You can bet our Charade launch he assumes I’ve told you. Don’t be surprised if he’s even more paranoid.”
“Or vindictive,” I replied. “This stays between us. Period. No Dustin, no Sheila or Veronica. It’s a private matter and knowledge could blow up in their faces if he decides to scream harassment or a million other things, he’s capable of.” She crossed her heart.
Brian’s solution seemed to be increased travel with Sheila as our go-between. All fine with me. In early March he interrupted my desk-side conference with Marsha. “Can you believe it?” he chirped as he entered without knocking. “Just back from LA. Our retailers are coming to blows over who’s to have Charade first. Had to share! One even hinted they’d attempt to block, block competitors from selling it at the same time.” Marsha swivelled in his direction. “Very flattering but of course Platinum has major sales targets to achieve. You know it’s impossible to exclude any large luxury accounts.”
“Well, of course I do.” Did he?
“Just thought I’d share the excitement.” He left as abruptly as he’d arrived. Marsha returned to our business so I kept doubts to myself. One more situation to keep tabs on. We did give Saks New York a two-week lead. For all other accounts we scheduled shipping dates to ensure by fourth quarter the fragrance would be located front and centre in case-line, étagères, shop-in-shops and installations. At a cost of nearly one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars per store, Charade would launch in fifteen full installations throughout North America.
The morning Brian noted his sixth month Platinum anniversary by distributing cupcakes embellished with BC-6, Dustin entered my office and closed the door. “There’s too much of a pattern not to share this with you.”
He opened his customary file of expense reports. “Yours, Emma, cut and dry, per usual. Our esteemed Vice President Cox? He expects Platinum to cover Rodeo Drive men’s beauty products, South Beach spa treatments, six bottles of Sonoma Cabernet Sauvignon, dry cleaning on Boston’s Newbury Street, airline kennels, and canine tranquilisers.”
“Apparently Daddy, Steve pays his own way, but the dog does not,” I said.
“And this is just his American Express company card.”
Dustin studied me. “Since he enjoys treating me as he’s an errand boy, you should know twice I’ve stumbled over loaded flasks, one in a coat he had me take to the dry cleaner. A different one’s in his desk drawer next to the calculator he sent me to get.”
“You are not to handle his dry cleaning!”
He waved it off. “I don’t need a Stanford business degree to know he’s a risk in every way imaginable. Dicey as hell emotionally and professionally. This affects us.”
“No more errands, Dustin! For now, complete the expense reports. Include mine, then leave both in the CFO’s in-box.” Brian was not the only one padding expense reports. For all
I knew, Marsha turned a blind eye to this MO. Despite the Chelsea spa episode and six months of his smoke and mirrors, I needed visits with him to flagship stores in the New York City market. It grew imperative to see first-hand how much he honestly knew about driving retail.
We worked the day-to-day business. Our major launch requirements gelled. Visuals were set. Store teams scrambled to involve all departments within every retailer. When I discovered Brian adding costly events without Marsha’s approval, I recorded details and backed up my notes, and practice learned from my ever-vigilant and covert boss. Did our CEO realise how much she needed to know about her hire?
A week later as I reviewed my punch list for setting up one of Brian’s presentations, Sheila appeared at my door. “Marsha’s concerned we’re understaffed in a number of markets. Brian’s on the floor today, too, so she wants to discuss it in the conference room.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes.”
My startled expression got only a shrug and, “Good luck.” I arrived to find Brian in mid-sentence with Marsha. He motioned to a chair. “Marsha confirms we’re losing store people she’s known for years. Her confidential field checks confirm – sorely understaffed on the heels of this big event.”
“I can speak for myself,” Marsha said. “You know as well as I do, we’re approaching the monumental undertaking for which I was hired.” She glared at both of us.
I slid her my file. “The right staffing has always been my number one concern.”
“Then why should I suddenly discover low numbers? I expect seasoned professionals at every level, perhaps the most critical right smack at the fragrance counter.” She flattened her palms on the table. “This ship floats or we drown.”
Brian excused himself. Marsha stared at our paperwork; I watched the sheeting rain distort the view. He trotted back smelling of mouthwash, and unwrapped a Kraft caramel. Marsha swatted it out of his hand. “We are so close to launch; this situation stands to jeopardise our projections.”
“Then let’s look closer,” Brian said. “It’s all about alliance and camaraderie. Frankly, I have serious doubts about Jennifer’s handling of her territory. And it’s no news our entire New York team’s weak, weak, weak.”
“You’ve met the new hires. They’re working well,” I said.
“Shipping’s down but retail sales are up twenty-five percent. I’ve also improved brand exposure with the store managers.”
“‘People, Presence. Product, Promotion.’ I know the drill.” Brian knew the slogan. But if shipping’s down and retail’s up, someone’s not getting their due from the buying office. He was the first line of communication for buyers. Couldn’t Marsha see our clients were dealing with an ass?
Another nugget from my days with Linda: Buyers who commit to programs that don’t deliver will cut the orders just because they can. As Vice President Brian outranked me and could hide this situation even from Marsha.
“Yes, you restructured less than a year ago.” He glanced at me. “But much of the numbers blame lies right here within certain departments on this floor. I can only accomplish so much when I’m thwarted at every turn.”
Marsha scowled. “It’s impossible to replace key players this close to the launch. For now you work with them. Whatever it takes. Tomorrow Filene’s buyers will be down from Boston specifically for your review and presentation, Brian. They’re expecting good news, high anticipation.”
He face glistened. “And they’ll get it. I have the visuals all designed and ready, plus handouts with specifics right down to Gift With Purchase ideas. Filene’s gets excited, writes a booster order for stores ASAP, and the GWP boosts our Q Four. We add a promotion to hike up shipments and push retail sales trends even higher.”
He was quoting the manual but it beat his previous Jekyll and Hyde behaviour.
