At Last

by JM Dragon

  †

  The room was a mixture of pregnant pause and worried expressions. Gene wanted to hold her head and cry in frustration. Except the Desrosiers never cried in public. She had learned that lesson the hard way when her grand-mère chastised her as a teenager on a visit to France shortly after her mother had died. Grand-mère Desrosiers was to be obeyed, but at night alone in her bed she had hidden under the covers and cried like a baby. She held her head high and wondered if anyone else could hear the deafening drumbeat of her heart as she gazed at the people around the table.

  Dee, Felix, Charles, and Quinn Merchant. Discussions had taken place on the impossibility of providing product in the time frame requested by Quinn. Of course, that had been unacceptable for the outsider and she had demanded real time projections of what could and couldn’t be done. They were at an impasse and looking to her for answers. I don’t have them!

  Then a familiar voice began speaking. She wasn’t exactly listening to the words, more to the gentle tone that soothed her beating heart. Strange, I never knew she could make me react like that. Did I, but never allowed it to go further?

  A phone ringing captured her full attention and she walked over to her desk and picked up the receiver. “Desrosiers.” She listened intently and bit the bottom of her lip. “Thank you, Chloe, will you show her in?” She replaced the instrument and looked at the expectant faces in the room.

  “Ms. Baker from the bank wants to speak to me. I decided in the circumstances that we might as well hear her verdict as it affects us all.” Gene moved to sit at the table, hoping the years she’d spent coached by her grandparent in not showing her feelings was working.

  “Do you really want me here?” Quinn asked.

  Gene turned her full attention to Quinn. “I’d prefer we were all not here, as if this isn’t happening, but it is. Ms. Merchant, at least you know that we are not lying to you and have given you the best we can in the circumstances. This way you will know exactly when the factory will close and perhaps you can find other perfumer's that will replace us.”

  “No one can replace us!”

  Gene looked at Dee, her face angry. The total devotion was overwhelming. Sucking in a deep breath she nodded in Dee’s direction.

  “You are right, they cannot. Each perfume is a signature of the maker.” She stretched her hand over to Dee’s and touched it. “Perhaps in the future you can—”

  The door opened, and Chloe announced Simone Baker.

  “Ah, Ms. Baker. I apologize for—”

  Charles stood and with outstretched his hand, interrupted Gene’s apology.

  “Good to meet you. I’m Charles Spencer. Ms. Desrosiers appointed me her business adviser late last evening. I apologize that we are a little late with the information you need. This is Quinn Merchant from one of our major customers, Sutters. We decided to be forthright on our position.”

  Gene was in shock at Charles taking the blame for the late delivery of the information to the bank. She watched in bemusement when the banker frowned.

  “Okay, that means you are taking your responsibilities seriously and, Ms. Merchant, are you still committed to the company?”

  All eyes turned to Quinn, whose jaw dropped.

  Gene allowed a faint smile to cross her lips. Ah, so this woman can be caught offline.

  “Perfect timing. We were about to discuss our position when you arrived.” Charles grinned, and the room appeared to thaw slightly.

  “Then let’s get on with the presentation, my head office is expecting me to call about the situation at three.”

  Charles nodded, and gave up his chair at the head of the table.

  “Do you need me to introduce everyone around the table?” Charles asked as he took a seat opposite the banker.

  Simone glanced around and then her gaze settled on Dee. “I need the hard facts, names are a formality that can be handled later, if there is a later.”

  Gene’s stomach lurched at the last words.

  “There will be a later, bank on it,” Charles stated.

  Felix chuckled and muttered an apology.

  “Sorry for the pun.”

  Gene grimaced. Had she been right in having Charles take over the meeting? Simone’s tight-lipped expression gave them her impression of his attempt at levity.

  “Works for me, Charles, sometimes you need to break the ice. What’s the score for Sutters and the bank?” Quinn replied amiably.

  Gene almost gasped when she saw Charles wink at Quinn. Did he know her, and if he did, was this another trick? Why hadn’t he mentioned it?

  “We’ve managed to persuade several of our major suppliers to provide product to take care of the backlog of orders. They expect to be paid, but I’ve worked out a payment plan over a few months to reduce the debt owed to them.”

  Gene looked around the room and Charles had definitely moved up the ladder from joker to serious.

  “What about the bank debt?”

  “What’s the lead time to product?”

  Charles shuffled several papers in front of him.

  Gene sucked in a silent breath; her new business manager was being bombarded from both sides.

  “Charles, I’ll take that one or, rather, two.” He nodded and she was pretty darn sure he looked relieved.

  “Felix, what will be the lead time to produce for Sutters and our other customers?”

  “The Sutters order will be ready in two weeks, maybe eight days, if I can get my people to work all hours.” Felix’s cheeks grew red as he spoke.

  “That will mean overtime and more expense.” Simone said.

  Felix looked desperately at Gene.

  “Can Sutters work with that timeline?” Charles interrupted, pointedly looking at Quinn.

  “Eight days is doable but fourteen, no. We will lose a new lucrative contract and our reputation. The Sutters will look elsewhere for product partners.”

  Silence invaded the room.

  “This is ridiculous, we have a strong sales book, our perfumes are sought after, the workforce is committed...right, Dad?” Dee stood.

  “Absolutely, sweetheart.”

  “There must be a deal that can be arranged that will give us a second chance. In fact, I demand it, Grady’s townsfolk demand it. Christine can’t have wasted all of our money.” Dee sat down.

  Gene was as shocked as it appeared from their faces were everyone else at Dee’s defense of the company. At the same time, she was proud, and her heart swelled at the younger woman’s words. I should have been the one to do that, what did that make me…a coward?

  “Well, Ms., I don’t actually know who you are or your position at the company, however, Christine Ager was one of two signatories to arrange special finance deals for Desrosiers.” Simone nodded toward Gene. “Ms. Desrosiers was the other and she used her assets for collateral.”

  A light switched on in Gene’s head. Standing and facing the banker she said. “Do I have any assets that haven’t been mortgaged?”

  The room was as silent as a grave.

  “Unless you have any more property than the business, your house, and the two farm properties…no.”

  “Thank you for your frankness Ms. Baker. If you all don’t mind, I need a few minutes alone.” Gene headed for the door and as she held onto the door handle said. “Thank you all for coming together to try to solve the problem.” She left the room.

  After Gene’s departure Charles rubbed a finger around the collar line of his shirt and addressed the people left in the room.

  “Ms. Baker, I know you might not be happy with the current circumstances, but is there anything that we can do that will stop the bank suing for the money owed?”

  “Do you have information on the order book and how that works out with the creditors? Frankly, this doesn’t make sense to me. Desrosiers has always been a solid guarantee of success.” Simone Baker looked around the room.

  “I only started this position yesterday, but I swear Desrosiers is worth saving.” Charles men
tally crossed his fingers.

  “Then you know nothing. Who did you work for before this?” Simone stared at him.

  Charles hesitated.

  “Does it matter? He has street cred with Sutters. I can’t say we are their biggest customer, but I figure we are up there.” Quinn nodded toward Charles.

  Simone threw up her hands. “Well that’s good to know, but he could be the janitor for all I know.” Charles almost choked. “Look, off the record, I want Desrosiers to survive but I have to give good reasons to my head office not to foreclose. Find something and I’ll work with you.”

  “Well, Charles, that’s a win. Take the opportunity, what else do you have?” Quinn asked and leaned back in her chair.

  Charles knew his cheeks were bright red. The heat almost consumed him as he tried to find something to turn this to Desrosiers’ advantage. “We have a wonderful team at Desrosiers who will work hard and at all hours to ensure we meet our sales, isn’t that right, Felix?” He turned to Felix who frowned.

  “I have to say that I and several others would work overtime for free.” He smiled at Dee. “Ms. Baker is right that some might want compensation and I’m not sure we can afford that.”

  “My point exactly. Thank you, Felix. Some people only look at the short-term benefits not the long term. I guess if that’s all you have, I can’t help you.” She stood and moved toward the door. “Besides, your employer isn’t exactly helping by walking out of the meeting. I guess she expects her workers to work it out for her.”

  Dee scraped back her chair. “Ms. Desrosiers loves this company more than you could ever know. She has sacrificed so much but who would know and even care. What do you need from us?”

  Charles applauded Dee’s defense of the woman who had literally left them to the wolves, or so it seemed.

  “A damn miracle probably. If you can find $100,000 by the end of month, which is ten days away, we can keep talking.” Simone left the room.

  Charles looked around the room at the people left there, noting that even Quinn looked deflated. Gene should have stayed. He hadn’t taken her for a quitter. Felix, fidgeting with a table napkin, got up mumbling he had work to do and left the room.

  “Dee, I think you should find Gene and make sure she’s okay.”

  Dee blinked rapidly and moved toward the door, then turned. “We will find the funds, Charles. We will, I know it.”

  Charles walked the few feet between them and pulled her into a hug. “I know, Dee, and we know and care and that’s the important thing.”

  Dee gave him a watery smile and left the room. Charles stared at the door.

  “Guess that leaves you and me, Charlie. You should have said how involved you were in this…a janitor, right?” Quinn looked at him pointedly.

  He turned and faced Quinn. He shouldn’t really like her but he did.

  “Ah, but my dear Quinn, so should you. Now how can you help, and if you can’t, tell me what’s the worst-case scenario?”

  Quinn shook her head and steepled her fingers. “I made a call to a friend after breakfast this morning. She’s an ace market researcher and knowing her, I’m expecting by the end of the day to have accurate information on Desrosiers.”

  “Haven’t we convinced you already? What more information do you need?” Charles sucked in a breath. Perhaps he’d been out of the business world too long and was of no use. In fact, he feared he was a burden to this particular problem.

  “Charles, you look like a puppy about to be chastised. You should have used that on the banker woman and I’m sure she would have forgiven all of the debt.” Quinn chuckled and then her expression turned serious. “In confidence? Sutters, at least Sheila, wants a quick fix or we are done. I think Arnold would have more patience but he’s incommunicado, at least for the likes of me. I’ve been given instruction on what’s needed by Sheila.”

  Charles noted the harsh way she finished the sentence. “Doesn’t sound promising for us. I can’t blame you for the delivery performance. The last couple of months have been abysmal. We’ve lost a third of our customers in the last two weeks.”

  “Should you be telling me that, Charles? Though thank god you didn’t mention it to the banker.”

  “I haven’t even told Ms. Desrosiers. Damn I guess I’ve just made things worse, haven’t I?” He held his head low. Then a warm hand settled on his shoulder and he looked up into Quinn’s gray gaze. “Sorry—”

  “Naw, don’t be sorry for wanting to help. Let’s face it, a number has been done on this business and it appears that person or persons have fled the scene of the crime.”

  Charles shook his head and smiled. “One way, in fact a great way, of putting it…Christine Ager from what I’ve found out.”

  Quinn muttered something under her breath that Charles didn’t hear.

  “Okay I know you need to find out as much as you can about what this business can or can’t do. This is my number, call me if you have anything—and I mean anything—at all that can appease my boss and stave off the inevitable.” She scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

  “Thank you, Quinn. One question.”

  “Only one? I’m disappointed.” Quinn laughed. “Go for it.”

  “Why are you helping?”

  Charles watched Quinn frown, scratch the side of her cheek, and sigh heavily enough for him to hear it.

  “Because sometimes there are things worth saving that defy logic.”

  “Totally agree. Want to have dinner tonight and we can catch up.” Charles saw her hesitate before answering.

  “I kind of asked Dee out for dinner—”

  “Don’t go there,” Charles growled.

  “Oh, is that all the explanation I’m going to get?”

  Charles thrust out his chin. “Yes.”

  “Hey, works for me. She didn’t accept anyway. Let’s catch up then around eight at Ray’s?”

  “Sure.” Charles shrugged. “Thank you, Quinn, no matter what happens.”

  Quinn winked. “It will work out how it should. See you later, Charlie.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Gene took in every facet of the research laboratory in her sight. This is my environment—not negotiating numbers, sales, or dollars. Fighting banks to keep the dream alive has never crossed my mind. How did I come to this? I’ve lost not only my dreams but what my parents set up. I don’t understand how I’ve become such a failure. Walking over to Matriarch she looked at the bush that had spawned so many great derivatives to keep them at the top of the game. Being at the top of the game wasn’t enough though was it, you needed more than a great perfume. You needed investment.

  “Gene.”

  A voice that settled her tremulous emotions and thoughts. Gene sighed and turned to the visitor. “Dee.”

  Dee walked to stand two feet from her and shrugged. That was a telltale sign that Dee wasn’t quite sure that what she was about to say would be welcomed. Little did she know that anything she said meant more to Gene than anything anyone else might say.

  “I thought that you would want to know the result of the meeting.”

  Gene shook her head. “I know the result…we are finished.” Dee gasped, and Gene saw a gray tinge invade her usually healthy complexion. “I’m sorry, Dee. Please tell me.”

  “If we can raise $100,000 in ten days, we have the chance of a reprieve.”

  Gene saw dark stars float in her vision and she figured fainting at this moment would be appropriate.

  “Gene, with the help of the town I’m sure we can do this. I’ve already started—”

  “Started what, Dee? What I gleaned from that bank woman is that I’ve mortgaged every damn thing I own. If the town helps me out, they won’t ever see a cent back. I don’t have any more assets. Unless I sell my body.” She threw up her arms. “Not going to get much for that.” She saw Dee turn away and thought it was probably in disgust.

  “Are you saying you don’t want help?”.

  The softly spoken words broke he
r heart. “I’m not going to let others be burnt by this fire. It ends now. It ends here.”

  Dee gave her a hard stare. “What about the people who work for you, and Grady. We need you, Gene, it’s time to quit being a victim and take back what you own and make it work for us all.”

  Gene curled her fingers into the palms of her hand. “You are right. I have nothing left, Dee…nothing.”

  Dee shook her head and moved to the door. Then she said as she opened the door, “Then you are not the woman that I think you are. I have faith in you and Desrosiers and I’ll continue fighting to give us all a chance. Maybe you should think beyond yourself, Gene.”

  She watched Dee angrily walk out of the lab. And wrapped her arms around her middle as tears traveled down her cheeks.

  †

  Quinn exited the Desrosiers building and was surprised to see Simone Baker still in the parking lot bent over the hood. Should she or shouldn’t she…ah, nothing ventured nothing gained.

  “Hi, thought you’d have left by now. Car won’t work?”

  “I’m sorry?” Simone frowned.

  “Car.” She pointed to the vehicle. “Got a flat?”

  “No, no. I was thinking.” Simone moved to stand up straight.

  “Nothing wrong in that, and in your position quite understandable.” Quinn moved to stand beside the woman who was about three inches shorter than herself. Folding her arms across her chest, she said, “I have to admit that your concern is refreshing.”

  “Refreshing? Isn’t that the last thing happening here?”

  “True. I’d call it tragic. At least they have a sympathetic ear in a banker. I have to say that’s a novelty in my experience.”

  Simone gave a brief smile. “Mine too. I don’t think they have a chance of salvaging Desrosiers, unless there is a huge injection of cash. Sutters is going to do that?”

  Quinn heard a hopeful expectancy in the voice. “I can’t speak for my employers.” She watched a shadow cross the banker’s features. “Look, I don’t know what your business calendar is like, but would you like to have a drink with me? Ray’s bar is close by.”