Maureen had gone away for the weekend, and Mike enjoyed being alone. The chronic tension between them made solitude preferable whenever possible. It was like a brief relief from a dull ache that he had gotten used to, and was surprised when it abated for a short time. He watched a series he enjoyed on TV, and went to bed early. He thought of the young blond manager at Brooke’s again, and was mildly disappointed he hadn’t seen her, which seemed foolish to him. What would he have done if he had? But she had been such a pretty woman, so well put together, and so pleasant to talk to. She seemed like a happy person, which had made her more attractive. It was tiresome living with Maureen’s bitterness and complaints. But they were married and intended to stay that way, for their children. It seemed like the right thing to do, to both of them. It was one of the few things they agreed on, even though a sacrifice they were willing to make. Maureen seemed to enjoy punishing him.
When he had gone back to the store, he had noticed the neighborhood more clearly. It was frankly ugly, and parts of it even looked dangerous to him. Brooke’s really would have benefitted from a better location, and he wondered why they had never moved. The building had charm inside, but as soon as you walked outside, the magic ended. He wondered if they would do better in a more upscale location. It seemed obvious to him that they would.
On Sunday, after he did the New York Times crossword puzzle and got most of it, he flipped through a recent edition of New York magazine and was startled to see an article about Brooke and Son. There was a photograph of the front of the building with the doorman standing to attention outside, and he read the article and was surprised to learn that the store’s current owner was not the founder’s son, but his granddaughter, Spencer Brooke. The writer explained that Spencer Brooke had an MBA, was thirty-seven years old, and had been running the store since she had inherited it from her father at thirty. According to the article she had done a bang-up job and had improved their profits considerably since she took over. It said that she had preserved most of the traditions her grandfather had established, while modernizing subtly and effectively, which explained why she had kept the store in the original location. Although the neighborhood was less than desirable, and inconvenient for most of their customers, they kept flocking to the store in spite of it. The article listed some of their most devoted customers and the list was impressive, of socialites, politicians, movie stars. It said that several First Ladies had shopped there and continued to do so.
The article sang Spencer’s praises, and when Mike turned the page, he saw a picture of her and stared at it for a minute. It was the beautiful young blond manager he had spoken to, who had been so lavish with her comments about the store and the staff, and he grinned when he saw it. He thought it was bold of her to have been so enthusiastic about Brooke’s, without admitting she was the owner. She had been passionate about it, and now he knew why. There was also a photograph of her with her grandfather when she was a child, in front of the store. The article said that she had been groomed to run it by her grandfather, and that her father’s tenure had been brief. He had died suddenly, and she inherited the store at thirty. She was quoted about how much the store meant to her, and how much she had learned from her grandfather.
Mike was still smiling when he finished the article. Spencer Brooke was an intriguing woman. Brooke’s didn’t make sense to him as a large investment, and there was much greater growth potential in the low-cost brands, like the one he’d invested in before, but there was something about the store that had hooked him. It was a fascinating place, with an endearing history, run by a woman who obviously knew what she was doing and did it well. He couldn’t decide which fascinated him most, the owner or the store, but now he wanted to know more about both.
Chapter 4
Mike took the copy of New York magazine to his meeting on Monday and handed it to Renee.
“The place is bewitching,” he admitted to her. “I saw a pair of shoes I liked there when I went the other day. They gnawed at me, so I went back for them on Saturday, and also ended up buying a sweater and a tweed jacket made by an English tailor. I never do that. I spent a fortune and was happy as can be about it when I got the stuff home. The manager I spoke to on the floor the first time turns out to be the owner, who cruises the place every day, checking on things. She sounds like a force of nature. I still think another high-volume brand would be a better investment, but there’s something intriguing about this place. See what you can find out about her, and what their profits look like. Maybe it would be fun, as a modest investment, if they’re interested in an influx of money to expand.”