“I know turmoil at home. Been there, too. I started out as a stringer chasing boy bands. New Kids on the Block, The Blades. Pop culture for Rolling Stone, Page Six, My wife left me twice.”
“Deserved?”
“Hell yes. It took Rachel walking out the second time with the baby for me to give up stupid. Then nearly a year to prove I had.”
“That’s a lot to share.”
He shrugged and picked up the proof sheets. “The Thomas Schuman you met at your Charade launch was newly, seriously monogamous and freshly sober. Assholes in this business love making up crap to sound important. You’re one of my most normal clients, Emma. I’ve got your back, both sides of the Atlantic.”
Julian called an hour later from London to confirm passing on the Windmill Beauty deal. “And bit of an update. Axel White met me for dinner last night. Rules in fact. He’s quite the toast of London, here to meet with the band and see his film production’s well underway. Big name director, he tells me. He’s also keen on investing in professional sports.”
“You two can be solid mutual resources. Obviously after Tuesday he thought it’d be worthwhile to meet on your turf.”
“We talked about my turf, Churchill’s that is. I’ve invited him join my guests, perhaps Davies as well, for a tour after the Savoy launch. We’ve Schuman on retainer to be used to best advantage. I think event candids and a formal sitting of the board when we gather for the meeting. My staff will be in touch. You’re the one to pull it together.”
“Sounds good,” I managed. “Our Waldorf reservation is set, Cole Porter Suite booked as you requested. Its dining room sits the board perfectly. Thomas could easily shoot before the meeting’s called to order.”
“And you’ll, of course, be in residence?”
“Absolutely. The Royal Suite’s to be my base of operation and Command Central right through Friday’s board meeting.” I’d already called hotel staff to plan transforming the oversized dining room to replicate one of the last Duke and Duchess of Windsor parties in 42R, their late seventies dinner honouring Estee Lauder and her husband.
“Our event is the perfect place to schmooze. We’re including high end buyers—Nordstrom’s, Macy’s – Wednesday evening I pull out the stops. They’ve worked night and day for this week.” My voice broke. Thursday’s Mayfair Beauty celebration dinner would be spiffier but I was most excited about honouring my team. “Julian, you could not have more talented Mayfair professionals. I’m letting them know.”
“Excellent all round. Credit is yours. I work for you now.”
“I take that as a vote of confidence.”
“As well you should. Say, perhaps prime concert seats for the members. Corporate box? Front and centre if you think they’ll tolerate screaming and pandemonium?”
Despite the syrup in his questions, there was no ‘perhaps’ about any of it. “Consider it done,” I said.
“Smashing. First thing, of course, when you’re over here, we’ll run through the board meeting agenda and status update. With this IPO coming up, the meeting’s critical. Nothing’s to appear precarious. We’re to be unequivocal. Proof-in-hand Mayfair’s on solid ground, leading the pack.”
Leading the pack among The Nudes, Elixir and Imperial’s other fragrance related interests? Or leading the pack, as in combined fragrance interests versus his medical equipment, sports teams, and God-only-knew whatever else was jumbled in?
Chapter Twenty-Three
My day concluded in Bill Grose’s office hovering with Jennifer over his Excel spreadsheet. Macy’s opening Mesmerise order for over a million dollars added to our fifteen percent over projection, problematic in terms of warehouse inventory. I snapped a pencil in half. “My God, ready-to-ship has to be so bloody complicated?”
Bill took off his reading glasses. “You’re not one to micromanage. You okay?”
“Yes I’m okay. And I’m really frigging tired of being asked.” I shoved hair out of my eyes. “Sorry. I sound like a total bitch. It’s the board meeting up against the Mesmerise launch and concert. I should be here till then to cover any SNAFUs, not jetting back over for the London event.”
“If it helps, consider the whole shebang a grand finale to one hell of a year. Emma, glitches come with the territory. As your VP for Operations and Product Development, it’s my job to worry, not yours. Financials are well in hand.”
“You’re right, of course and I thank you.”
Jennifer and I left him to his charts but as we headed down the hall, she tugged me into her office and closed the door. “It can’t be just Macy’s inventory or jetting back to London. What’s up and how can I help?”
“Nothing needs help.”
“Bullshit.”
“It shows, I guess.”
“To us, yes.”
“Two launches; the correct seats for the big guns; retailer point of sale plans—”
“—are flawless. You’ve said so to Amanda and me.”
“Stress, stress, stress.”
“With all due respect, Emma, you’ve scheduled a full staff meeting plus the staff party the week of the launch. You’re ready for anything. Stress was Brian Cox. Stress was inviting Marsha to The Four Seasons to offer your help and getting canned instead. We won’t even mention Carmine and his modus operandi. Your plans are rock solid. We’ll be at your beck and call. You could head to London tonight.”
“Thank you.” My voice cracked but I cleared my throat. “It’s Ethan.”
“Again?”
“Dustin hasn’t said anything to you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Ethan signed a scouting/coaching contract. No discussion; behind my back. He starts in September. In San Francisco.”
“I thought those offers weren’t coming anymore.”
“It’s even worse. In Zurich I discovered Julian arranged it with him. He told me Ethan would deny it. He did but first I flew home from Zurich last Friday to a fucking note. He moved out with only a note. You know we’re ships in the night. You know we bury ourselves in our careers, but never this, Jen. Never this.” I swore.
