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This makes me laugh as I look over my shoulder to check the clock on the oven, subtracting thirty-seven minutes from the display (I still haven’t figured out how to change the settings). “It’s fine. I need to hang up anyway and finish getting ready or I’m going to be late for work.”
“Oh. Okay. Yeah, I guess it’s about that time.” He laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. Will’s mouth opens as if readying himself to say something important. But what comes out instead is a rushed, “Have a great day at work and good luck in the meeting,” before hanging up without another word.
As I zip into a floral dress that might be too light for February, I think glumly of ways to bring up meeting in person again. Unfortunately, I find that I’ve taken way too many hits in life lately to bring the subject up again.
WILL
This morning, he almost asked her to meet in person. If he’s being honest with himself, the virtual part of his friendship with Bridget is getting tiresome. He craves her the same way he craves that first cup of coffee of the day to give him a morning jolt.
More accurately, if he’s being honest with himself, he craves her the way he craves air to breathe.
And yet…
The smallest chance that he’d be a disappointment to her, that he wouldn’t live up to her expectations, is enough to stifle the need whenever it reaches its boiling point. Will has already disappointed so many people in his life; he doesn’t want to add this perfect woman to the list of humans who regret ever meeting him.
He wonders how much longer he’ll be able to take without knowing her in person. Wonders how much longer he’ll be able to keep the truth hidden. Most of all, he wonders whether she wonders as much about him as he does about her.
Bridget.
10
CAN SOMEONE GET THIS KNIFE OUT OF MY BACK? IT’S REALLY UNCOMFORTABLE
Most of the work day has gone by the same way it had every other day: running early morning sales and shipping reports, checking in with production statuses and asking design for updates. Not to mentioncarefullycrafting and replying to emails to the correct people (I doubt every accidental unprofessional email etiquette interaction will end as happily as establishing a pen pal friendship as it did with Will, so I’ve been really careful with that lately).
Thankfully, after almost four months at Sartoria, I seem to have finally slipped into an easy routine. Of course, it’s not without its ups and downs; there’s always some issue with a factory or material vendor, or a human error when inputting numbers into our system that needs mending. But it isn’t boring work—more of a DIY project on a macro level (i.e. trust the process, as they say). It’s fun and requires major problem-solving at times, requires a certain ability to properly pivot when things go wrong—but that’s what makes it great; it’s like a game.
I’m in love with my job. Though I think I might be more in love with what it could become.
When the meeting with Stevenson is fast approaching, I’m disappointed Lena never brings up my proposal. I handed it over to her two weeks ago and have heard nothing, meaning we’re going into this meeting with our original plan—which, in my opinion, is the wrong thing to do. Worst of all, now that we’re being joined by the CEOandthe VP, everything has to be perfect. Going into the meeting, it was already clear to me, though, that there would be issues. After all, Will had told me this morning that their team still had concerns with the pricing we’d quoted.
As a Hail Mary, I decide to address Lena’s lack of response to my proposal minutes before the meeting, just as we’re finishing setting up the showroom.
“Lena, were you able to double-check the numbers and research on my proposal?” I ask her, my voice barely a squeak.I should probably work on that whole confidence thing.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t gotten back to you,” she says with a sigh. “I presented the proposal to Jenna—I thought it was that good—but she said she wasn’t interested in changing our strategy. I pushed her, and she promised she’d think about it, but that’s just her way of saying no.” Lena pats me on the shoulder. “It was a good idea, though. Averygood idea, actually. Kinda jealous that after twelve years of me working here I didn’t even see it.”
“Right,” I say with a sad nod.
“This is good, though. It shows you’ve got good instincts and you showed amazing initiative. You’ve also shown me I can trust you with more.” Lena gives me a rare smile and my chest fills with pride.
But you can’t live off of just pride in a job well done in life, can you?
* * *
“Fantastic. Truly fantastic,”Iris, the Chief Merchandising Officer of Stevenson, says. “I love the updates to the collection. Looks even better in person.”
Our head of design sits in the meeting, smiling proudly at the compliments.
“This is exactly why I wanted to come to look at them in person. Because unfortunately,” Iris continues, “we still have several concerns surrounding pricing. Maybe we should pick another material, one that costs less, if we’re going to keep our planned MSRP?”
Our CEO, Sascha, gets to her feet and pulls down a suede leather jacket from one of the racks in the showroom. “Iris, feel this leather.Feelit. In fact, slip the sample on. This isn’t some second-rate brand where we skimp on materials just to increase our margin. That’s not what we want to be known for as a private label company, and it’s not what you should be known for, either. You should not be charging this high an MSRP for a jacket with lower material because you want a higher margin and think you can justify it because it has the company name on it. On the contrary, you should be living up to said name, making people happy they spent this money on agreatquality jacket from a well-known brand. You and I both know what brand loyalty is, and this is how you both buildandkeep it. Don’t be like so many other fashion houses who have begun to inflate their prices and drop their quality just to make more money. Yes, this is business, but let’s maintain some sort of integrity, yes?”
Whoa.
Iris slips on the item of clothing and runs her fingers over the soft, chocolate material—a moto jacket perfect for fall. A deep sigh bursts through her lips. “You know I still have young Liam to deal with. Ever since he joined the company a few years ago, we’ve been fighting with vendors left and right, Iris. We can’t budge in this regard.”
Our CEO nods thoughtfully. “I understand it’shisfamily’s company he’s trying to protect, but that’s my whole point. You should tell him that, unless he becomes more flexible, it will be his fault he ruins his family company’s reputation. Does he want to be another joke of a nepobaby? One who runs the company into the ground? Or does he want to show the world he’s capable of running a multimillion dollar company despite just having it handed to him?”
