“I did. Today was insane. I’m sorry, Bill, I’m too wiped out to even talk.” He was gracious about it but didn’t sound pleased. She rarely refused him, but she was too exhausted to move. She ended up falling asleep on the couch without having dinner. Ben woke up twice in the night, and she was glad that she was there alone and hadn’t let Bill come over. She finally spent the rest of the night with both twins in her bed until morning.
Ben went to school with his cast, and a marking pen so his friends could sign it. She dropped the twins off at school herself, instead of Francine, and got to the store early.
She had an hour of peace before everyone else would arrive and sat at her desk answering the emails she hadn’t read the night before. She was halfway through them when she saw one from a PR agent she knew. He wanted to know if his clients, a famous rock star and his wife, could come to the store. They wanted the store closed for them. She had already done that once that week, for the First Lady, which had been chaotic beyond belief. And inevitably, it had disappointed their customers who showed up and found the store closed. She couldn’t do that to them twice in one week. Her regulars were her bread and butter. Although stars were good too. She needed both.
She responded that she would be happy to accommodate them, but it would have to be after hours. They were welcome to come at six o’clock. The agent thanked her and responded that would be fine. It meant that she would have to ask a skeleton crew of salespeople to stay overtime. She emailed Beau Vincent, their fashion director, and asked him to handle it for her.
He walked into her office half an hour later. She had just finished her last email. She thought he was there to complain about the rock star couple, but he had come about something else.
“There’s a big charity event at the Met tomorrow night. They’re inviting you for free. I know you hate things like that, but I think you should go. They want you at the head table. It’s good publicity for the store. You can bring a date.” She groaned at the thought.
“I have nothing to wear,” she said, and he laughed.
“I think I can find something for you here,” he said, and she grinned.
“Do you want to be my date?”
“I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m hosting a birthday party for a friend.” She didn’t really want to ask Bill, after having refused to see him the night before, but she couldn’t think of anyone else, and he was good at things like this. He had the right clothes and was usually happy to go to black-tie events. She had taken him with her before, on the rare times she went. “I’ll dig around in the designer department, and send a rack up to your office.” Beau knew what she liked and what looked good on her. She trusted him to pick the right thing. She didn’t have time to do it herself.
As soon as Beau left her office, on his mission to dress her for the Met party, Paul Trask walked through the door. “I’m here to harass you about Mike Weston. He says he just wants to meet you. He loves the store.”
“He wants to throw money at us, and get a controlling interest. That’s what guys like him do. I don’t want to meet him,” she said, looking exasperated. “What part of No doesn’t he understand?”
“It’s a word he’s never heard before.” Paul smiled at her. “It wouldn’t kill you to meet him.”
“My grandfather never had investors. I don’t want them either. We’ll just have to figure out how to implement your expansion program without an investor.”
“We don’t have the money for it, Spencer. He does. Or a different investor. It would take us years to come up with that kind of money.”
“We’d lose control of the store. I can’t let that happen.”
“We could do so much with an infusion of funds.” He looked sad.
“We’re doing fine without it,” she insisted.
“We’re holding the fort. But without it, we can’t grow. An investor would safeguard our future.”
“Or take it over, or destroy the store, or change it. I’m not going to be the first Brooke to lose the store.” Her great-grandfather had lost his in 1929, she wasn’t going to be the next nearly a hundred years later.
“I don’t see what harm it would do to talk to him,” Paul insisted.
“That’s what Eve said to Adam about the snake in the Garden of Eden. Let’s not talk to snakes.”
“He’s not a snake. People say he’s brilliant and an honorable guy. We could dictate our terms.”