At least I could come up with a polite answer that might please the woman. “Congratulations on going to design school. Which one?”
“I’m going to London. I figure it’s time for a change of pace, and they have a nice design school over there. It isn’t Parsons, but I’ve been talking with admissions, and I’ll be starting in the fall.”
“That’s great.” When I went to my temporary home, I would retreat to my room, crawl beneath the bed, and hide. Possibly for all eternity. I liked that I could hide beneath the bed, but I worried what anyone would do if they caught me hiding down there. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to figure out who should be on shift for the Black Friday week. I doubt we can get authorizations to bring in extra bodies, so we’ll have to be as efficient as possible. The Carter corporation will provide some staff for the event to help oversee sales of its product line. They’ll need to be trained on our software and registers. You’ll be in charge of this.”
“Understood. I can put together a list of the other employees who would work best in which jobs, and how to split the shifts for the week before starting inquiries on Monday.”
“Monday will work. Clifford will give you his card, and you can work with him to figure out how many Carter employees we’ll need for the event. They’re used to working with small boutiques. I’ll cover the floor while you coordinate with him. If you need help, fetch me.”
I wanted to raise my fist at the woman, but I smiled and nodded instead, waiting for her to leave before bucking up and preparing to deal with Clifford. I wouldn’t view him as the enemy. Yet.
“I have a message for you, Shirley.”
“I’ve already been kidnapped by another adult I’m not related to, so I’m going to kindly turn down any invitations to be kidnapped. My quotas for being moved to someone else’s home have been met for a while. Also, rats ate my Prada, and I probably deserve what Juliette is going to do to me, but if she could give me a few days to process that a swarm of rats broke into my apartment, picked my Prada for their nest, and completely destroyed it, I would really appreciate it. It took me years to save up for that dress, and now it belongs to a bunch of rats. Someone also bought me a Tiffany set, and I’m not sure what to do about that, either. A few extra days would be nice. Then there’s the phone and the other things I found in my harp case. Really, I’m going to need at least a year at this point.”
Clifford raised a brow, but after a moment, he chuckled. “You’ve had an eventful time of it lately. I’ll let Juliette know. The message, however, I’ll still pass on, as you may find it interesting. In addition to the message, I’ve been told that you’re to know I am but one of her many minions.”
Wow. The woman really called her employees minions? I opted to ignore that element of the insanity. It would take time to accept Juliette called her employees minions. Acceptance would involve acknowledging I would never be interesting enough to call anyone beneath me a minion, even if I did get a job promotion. “Is it a good interesting or a terrifying interesting? Personally, I found Psycho to be a very interesting movie, but I wouldn’t want to be cast in it. That’s the terrifying interesting. The good interesting involves turning back time so I could rescue my poor Prada.”
“She wanted me to let you know that she will plot her revenge and come for you only after the other party is finished with you first. She also wanted me to thank you for your excellent entertainment last night, but she is concerned you’re not getting enough sleep.”
“Well, that’s my fault. I played video games at a hot guy’s house with a gay friend until the wee hours of the morning, then I went to work because I won’t skip work for being stupid. I deserved to look like hell. But, just to be clear, I’m not going to be kidnapped today?”
“You’re not going to be kidnapped today.”
“Stalked?”
“You’re definitely going to be stalked today, but I promise she’s a really polite stalker. She really does mean well, and she will stop if her stalking at all bothers you. Mostly, her version of stalking involves showing up in a public place, usually armed with a favorite beverage. Her targets are usually enticed into spending time with her due to the lure of the beverage and her wickedly nice ways. She’s a very open and friendly stalker.”
“That sounds like what friends do, except slightly creepier.”
“We’ve come to the conclusion Juliette believes she is very bad at making friends, has found something she thinks works for her, and has embraced it with full enthusiasm. In reality, she is exceptionally good at making friends, but she doesn’t agree with us no matter how many times we explain this to her.”
“Let me get this straight. This woman wants to be friends with me, so she’s going to stalk me with bribes of my favorite drinks?”
“That sounds about right. She has other methods, but I think she’s going to go the stalking with favored beverages route this time. She can be very unpredictable, and she tries to plan her attempts at making friends with her target in mind.”
“Is she a really good person or a really bad person, Clifford? I’m getting mixed signals. Also, I like black tea with a little bit of sugar and cream. I also enjoy chai. If a chai, I like extra nutmeg and cinnamon sprinkled on top. I like chai more than black tea, but black tea is my usual.”
“She’s quite a lovely person, but she’s a little crazy—in a good way. She’s very nice and she cares a lot. She’s not like other CEOs.” Clifford made a note on his phone. “I’ll make sure she knows what drinks you like so she can properly indulge in her stalking tendencies.”
I ignored that Clifford was serving as Juliette’s informant, as she’d find some other way to figure out my favorite drinks even without her employee’s assistance. “She’s not like other CEOs?”
“She takes a limited cut from her designs and work. Don’t get me wrong, she’s definitely wealthy, but she isn’t one of those billionaires thriving off the backs of her minions. She chooses to be paid less so we can be paid more, and she lets us fight over who gets to work overtime. She offers very good overtime incentives.”
“Do I want to know? Or will I end up feeling sorry for myself while working the boutique scene?”
“She saw what you did to your dress, ma’am. Do not be surprised if you’re kidnapped one day with the intent of her luring you into working for her. She’s always looking for talent and courage, and it takes a lot of both to alter a perfect Prada and come up with something even better. She really liked what you did with the dress. Frankly, she treated it as a job interview. Honestly? She sent me here to bring you back with me, but unlike her, I’m sensible, and you’re not the kind to abandon your responsibilities to your employer. With you coordinating the line launch, she’ll restrain herself until after the holiday season.”
“But don’t you all work in Manhattan?”
“We do.”
I sighed, my shoulders slumping. “I can’t afford Manhattan.”
“You can afford Manhattan; you just don’t know it yet. I’m originally from Philly, and I laughed in her face when she suggested I should move near the main offices. Who can afford that, right?”
I nodded. “Right.”
“Any one of her employees can, comfortably.”
“Even customer service?” I asked. “Does she have customer service? I assume she must. She works with clients, right?” Customer service always got the short end of the stick. I’d done a stint in customer service before working full retail. I’d exchanged one type of hell for another, but at least my retail hell came with a slight chance of a bonus if I helped to sell enough product.
“We all take turns doing customer service, actually. We don’t have a specific customer service department. We all do at least five days a month working the customer service lines and emails. Juliette wants us all to stay in touch with our clients, and that means interacting with them at all stages of their relationship with us.”
My mouth dropped open. “Everyone
works customer service?”
“Even Juliette, but we only let her do two or three days a month, and we make her do it when she’s frustrated with something. It relaxes her.”
“Juliette works customer service? At her own company? She finds customer service work relaxing?”
Life no longer made sense to me, and I wanted to go to my new home and hide under the bed for a few days. Hiding under the bed might help. No, I doubted anything would help.
Someone had given me a Tiffany set, Tiffany meant expensive, and I had no idea who would do such a thing or why.
My concerns about the crazy fashion designer came second to the crazy person who had given me something from Tiffany and Co. When I considered and prioritized my situation, I figured the gift giver took the top spot, leaving Juliette as a distant second. “And Juliette is aware of this other person? The one who left the Tiffany box in my harp case? Do you know about this at all?”
“Yes.”
Well, if it meant getting some information on what was going on and why, I’d become Clifford’s best friend and make sure the clothing launch went well despite everything. Unless she hired me. If she hired me, then I would have a whole new world of options to explore. The way Clifford talked about his job and his boss, I would have secured the Holy Grail of employment. “And this other party is acceptable to Juliette?”
“The last time I checked, she was contemplating how she could use a pair of handcuffs to streamline the progression of your situation, as she believes it would take divine intervention to resolve matters in a timely fashion. She’s very impatient to have her turn.”
I frowned at that. A pair of handcuffs? Why would she…?
The alternative use of handcuffs came to mind, and I had a certain candidate I wouldn’t mind using a pair of handcuffs on. He, however, struck me as a reasonable human being. I’d somehow fallen in with a lot of unreasonable human beings. That decided me. I would be a bastion of sanity in a world gone mad.
I would transform chaos to order. I would make the boutique shine in the face of insane adversity. I’d earn that promotion, even while worried about my ability to tame the chaos surrounding Juliette Carter. “So, the owner of the Tiffany box and its contents is a man?”
“No, you’re the owner of the Tiffany box and its contents. The individual who left the box and its contents for you is a man.
“And do you know of this man?”
“I am acquainted with him.”
Getting a straight answer out of Clifford would take work, and I bet he kept his answers short and sweet to drive me as crazy as his boss. I would not go crazy. I would be calm and bring order. I would not accept defeat at Juliette’s hands. It took me a moment to rethink my approach, and I straightened my back and prepared to wage a new type of war with Juliette’s employee.
Anything worth doing was worth doing well, and I would not lose. I’d lost enough lately.
My poor Prada. I would miss it dearly. I would not miss my apartment or the rats now residing within it, but I would miss my Prada.
“If you had a daughter, would you allow her to date this man?” I’d discovered rather young if I wanted to know a man’s true opinion of another man, I’d ask that question. The answer almost always changed.
Most men didn’t want their daughters dating creeps.
“If I had a daughter, and she was interested in this man, I would begin planning the wedding myself. Juliette does not involve herself with matchmaking unless she feels both individuals are good people. She would never knowingly establish a relationship with anyone she views as an abuser. But, I do know him sufficiently to be comfortable with the idea of my daughter, if I had one, marrying him. That is a little more serious than dating, but yes. He’s ethical but awkward. Of course, I don’t have a daughter, so this is entirely theoretical.”
I could work with ethical but awkward. “What does it say about me that I feel like I’m being set up on a blind date, but since it’s being vetted by numerous people, this might not be a complete disaster in the making?”
“Being lonely is hard,” Clifford replied. “Juliette doesn’t like when people are lonely. There has been plenty of discussion of the hallway incident, too.”
Crap. “I owe that bastard a kick in the groin.”
Clifford grimaced. “Which bastard?”
“Well, not the one I violated with his permission. He’s not a bastard. He was quite the gentleman considering the circumstances, really.” His mouth had left a mark or two on me, and I wanted a repeat occurrence without the creeper involved. “No, I mean the one that drove me into asking a stranger if he minded being violated. And I also don’t mean Jonas. Actually, he deserves a prize right now, since I only picked his friend because Jonas tries to avoid being friends with complete assholes. Jonas can be a jerk, but he’s basically a demented brother at this point. A girl just doesn’t kick her demented brother in the groin unless he really deserves it. He hasn’t done anything to deserve it.”
Damn. I already failed at being the calmer of chaos, as I babbled worse than a brook.
“Well, I can’t say I disagree with you, although I’d prefer another method, personally.”
“And I can’t say I blame you on that score. I’m just saying, if he tries another stunt like that on me, I very well may do that, and some kind soul should probably warn him he shouldn’t get within twenty feet of me in the future.”
“I believe I can pass that message along through some trustworthy individuals.”
“I could just make Jonas deal with him.” As far as threats went, I believed that one to be particularly potent. As I’d already made a fool of myself and interrogated Juliette’s minion, taking it a step further wouldn’t make the situation worse. While I could’ve asked Jonas to pass a message to his friend, Clifford seemed like the safer option. “I don’t suppose you could pass another message for me, could you?”
“It entirely depends on who is receiving the message.”
“Please ask the gentleman I violated if he’d like to have a coffee, he’s on the list of people permitted to toss me into the back of his car and cart me off somewhere for a drink or a nice vacation. Actually, a nice vacation from my life sounds ideal.”
“I’m not sure who that is,” Clifford confessed.
“Just make Jonas tell you. If you grab him by his ankle, turn him upside down, and shake him a few times, he might even have some pocket change. And you can tell him it was courtesy of me. I can’t be too nice to the demented brother-like man. He might start thinking I actually like him.”
He laughed. “I’ll pass on turning Jonas upside down and shaking him for his pocket change, but I’ll talk to him about the situation and pass on the message.”
“And if you ask Jonas to pass on the message, tell him if he makes a fuss about it, I’ll shake him for his pocket change—or make him dress me up again, but this time, like a queen rather than just a painting lady. And I’ll make him buy me a new, full-sized harp. Actually, no. I’ll make him troll pawnshops for a full-sized harp. That’ll teach the bastard.”
“I’ll make sure he makes a fuss about it,” Clifford promised.
Damn. Were all minions of crazy rich designer ladies nice? If they were, I’d have to do some serious thinking about flinging myself under Juliette’s thumb. “Does it make me a shameless hussy that I’m hoping he puts up a fight and obeys my verdict?”
“I saw a recording of you playing your harp. I might turn him upside down and shake him for his change if he doesn’t put up a fuss and participate in trolling pawnshops for one for you. But, I would like to ask, why not ask for a new one?”
“I like the ones that need some tender loving care and have a history.”
When I wasn’t trying to hide it behind a shield of false bravado, I wanted some tender loving care, and I came with a history, too.
“I am going to do you a favor,” Clifford admitted.
“What?”
“I’m not going to tell Juliette
you’re okay with being kidnapped if the goal is to have a date with somebody. That is how you get kidnapped before you go on a date with somebody. Juliette will never, ever say no to planning a kidnapping when the kidnapped party expresses any sort of interest in being kidnapped.”
“Does it make me a bad person if I confess he’s gorgeous, he has good taste in art, and he’s quite possibly the best kisser in Manhattan? I mean, can you really blame me at that point?”
Clifford took his time thinking about that. “I find it disturbing that I’d think about inviting myself to a kidnapping under those circumstances.”
“Oh, well. A girl can dream, right?”
“You’re dealing with Juliette Carter. She’s in the business of turning dreams into reality.”
“Okay, then. I want a hot date in the entry of his penthouse underneath his Leonardo da Vinci sketch. Clothing optional. Wait, no. Clothing is only optional if we have a wedding date, plans in progress, and so on. I have a line, and only those I’m engaged to with an actual expectation of longevity get a piece of this package at this stage in my life.” Damn it, I’d overshared. “I should not have told you that.”
“You’re having a stressful day, and it’s completely normal for stressed individuals to blurt what’s on their mind. I’ve heard worse.”
“You have?”
“You should’ve been there for the time the boutique owner freaked out because she’d had bad sex in the spot where Juliette wanted to set up a mannequin. That incident was priceless.”
“Oh my.”
“That’s what Juliette said, and as she didn’t want to deal with that disaster, she moved the mannequin to the other side of the store. She then, for the peace of the boutique owner’s mind, got some bleach, then a rug, and then moved a rather heavy display case over the spot. They burned some sage, too.”
“Sage? Why?”
“I think they were attempting to drive away evil spirits.”
Bat Out of Hell Page 10
