“I never break my word,” she said when Sybil complimented her on the lovely gesture. In polite English society, however, the boy would be called Miles Frank Blake-Herz.
Two days later she was back at work, and one month later she had slimmed down to her original figure. With a vast array of capable British nannies on hand, Josephine found that her fury and passion for work had only just kicked in.
* * *
The door chime gave the subtle and lovely hint of entering customers. It was Josephine’s favorite sound, next to that of the cash register drawer opening and closing and the sound of her staff making change. The door chimed twice, and a slight, fair-haired gentleman of about twenty-seven entered.
“Madame Herz, please,” he said.
“I can help you, sir,” said the front store manager as Josephine sat quietly tallying the day’s receipts. She surveyed the man’s expensive suit of clothes.
“No, only Madame Herz will do, if you please.” He seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable in a woman’s environment. “I can return if she is not here,” he said, playing with his gold signet pinky ring.
“No, she’s here. I’ll get her for you, Mister…?”
“Cavendish. Thank you.”
“Yes, sir.” She smiled faintly, somewhat disappointed at losing the chance to wait on him.
After a few moments, Josephine smoothed her skirt and entered the front of the store.
“Yes, Mr. Cavendish, how can I help you?” She saw he was somewhat startled by her youthful appearance. She was equally taken aback by his. Josephine’s lips and face seemed fuller and her figure more voluptuous since the birth and she knew it.
“I … well, this is somewhat impolite…,” he stammered.
“Go on, I am not a proper English lady,” Josephine said. She had an inkling why he was here. It had happened before.
“My friend, who is a client of yours, Mrs. de Lorraine, once told me of a special cream you gave her for…” He paused. “Indiscreet … moments.” He looked down.
“Oh, that.” Josephine saw his reddened cheeks and decided to have some fun with the well-brought-up young man.
“Yes, I only give it to my best clients. To ease the pain of intercourse.” She shocked him with her straightforward language about the sexual act. No society woman would ever discuss sex with a man she didn’t know without using a euphemism.
“Would you … I mean … is there … um … some of that special cream I can buy directly?” he asked.
“Why not get it from Mrs. de Lorraine?” Josephine smirked, knowing that Lianne de Lorraine was a well-paid courtesan, popular among the city’s elite young nobles.
“Well, that’s just it. Mrs. de Lorraine and I … are no longer acquainted and I would like to give the gift of that cream to another lady. A friend who seems to be … experiencing pain,” he whispered, and then blushed, sensing a comrade-in-arms.
“I usually don’t do this.” Josephine abruptly went back to the stockroom and took out two slim, dark blue vials of a special lubricant she had invented using mineral oil with a secret dash of olive oil. She kept her special stock stashed away and gave it out as a special gift to those of her clients who were experiencing marital problems or the inconvenience of menopause. She returned with the vials and placed them in a small shopping bag, arranged with tissue paper.
“Mr. Cavendish, I want you to know I don’t sell this. I just give it to my clients when I hear they have problems.” Josephine wanted to be clear she was not in the sexual-aid business.
“Thank you so much.” He looked around at the impressive shop, lined and stocked with an array of high-end beauty creams and cosmetics, as well as the newly built treatment room for European massage and facials and an area with a hairstylist.
“My pleasure,” she said, handing him the small mauve bag with ribbon handles.
“How much do I owe you, Madame Herz?” The young man wiped the perspiration from his upper lip, to Josephine’s delight.
“Nothing at all.”
“Are you quite sure?” he said, not knowing what was appropriate.
“Quite. Just send your new friend to me. I put my card in the bag and tell her to ask for me, Mr. Cavendish, and I will take care of all her needs.” She paused. “And yours. Since you seem to have a bigger problem on your hands,” she said in a saucy manner that made him blink twice as she looked down at his trousers.
“Why, thank you, Madame Herz.” He seemed relieved and kissed her hand in the European style. “May I ask you an impertinent question?” He adjusted his silk cravat before leaving, staring at her ample bosom.
“Of course. There are no impertinent questions in my book.”
“Is there a Mr. Herz?” he asked.
“No, not technically anymore.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I am still deciding.”
“I see.” He nodded. “I do hope to see you again, Madame Herz.” He looked at her firmly before opening the door and leaving the salon. “I didn’t realize how beautiful the woman behind the beauty business was.” He bowed slightly, leaving Josephine in a flushed state as the door closed behind him.
“Well, that was interesting.” Josephine seemed slightly overcome by the encounter. “I wonder who he is?”
“Madame Herz, you don’t know? That’s Viscount Cavendish. He is the Duke of Cambridge. He is in all the papers.… You know he is fourth in line for the throne.”
“Really? Well, he was first in line for lubricant at Herz Beauty.” They both laughed out loud.
The next day, Josephine received a personal note and invitation to dine with the duke at his private apartments. And while she would never have accepted a month earlier, she decided she was still a woman and, more important, that it would be good for business. Within weeks Josephine was whispered to be the mistress of the Duke of Cambridge, and better yet, every fashionable lady in London was suddenly her client.
16
EMPRESS
London, 1932
In an opulent yet discreet Edwardian room in a grand town house off Mayfair, Josephine was on top. Literally. She rode Cavendish like a stallion as he whinnied and brayed.
“I have to turn off the damned radio. It’s ruining my mood.” The duke got up and walked, stark naked, to the wooden art deco radio cabinet and snapped off the BBC with disdain. “That’s all I need to hear about during lovemaking … crazy Churchill talking about the dangers of German rearmament. Kills the mood.” He groaned as Josephine admired his tall, lean body, all white, pink, and blond. She thought his uncircumcised penis to be odd but overlooked the extra flap of skin for the betterment of her business and social goals.
So what if he has an extra flap of skin, she told herself; I have an extra flap of brain. She enjoyed this joke alone, reminding herself to tell it to Sybil, who would be mortified.
“But you, my dear. I can’t get enough of my brilliant Jewess.” He surveyed Josephine, spread out on the bed, her ample figure and high, lush breasts arranged so sensually, he thought she was built for sex. But it was Josephine who took control, unlike the well-raised English ladies he knew who were all so passive. And this was the secret ingredient to his passion. It ignited his lust when she called out positions and made simple yet strict demands.
“On your back, boy.”
He immediately lowered himself on top of her, to a small smack of her hand.
“You don’t listen, you von’t get anything,” she said. “On your back.…” Josephine smiled and watched as he obeyed her wishes and desires, as did most men. Josephine was a commanding presence in her store and in the bedroom. She raised herself on top of him and worked away to his delight, the small of her back slightly damp with perspiration.
“You know, darling,” he said afterward, “I can’t get enough of you. You’re simply not like the other girls. You won’t even let me buy you a trinket.”
“I buy you, Duke,” she said bluntly.
He laughed. “You know, you have the b
earing of an empress.” He tossed his blond hair. “And if I could bottle your scent, I would.”
“Thank you, darling. And you would be better not to eat salmon before you see me,” she observed.
It was in this moment that Josephine had an epiphany, a eureka moment of sorts. A scent. This was what was missing from her brand. The star missing in the Herz firmament. A fragrance for the store. Cavendish had given her her next idea. He may as well have paid her in gold.
“Listen, darling.” Josephine stood from the bed and slipped into her black lace brassiere. “I think the time has come when we must say goodbye.” There was no emotion in her voice.
“Goodbye? I was just saying hello.” Cavendish sat up in the bed. He would not let go so easily. He had never met a woman like Josephine Herz. Smart, sharp, and magnetic. Sexy and original. Of course, he couldn’t marry her. She was already married, and not Church of England. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her. On the contrary, he had never wanted anyone quite so badly.
“Listen, darling.” She had him help her with the clasp of her deco diamond Cartier bracelet, the baguettes arranged in a stunning geometric pattern dotted with cabochon emeralds. It had been a gift to herself from herself. “My husband is coming to London. Miles needs a father and I have decided to forgive him.”
“When does the old chap arrive?” Cavendish confronted the slow realization that his favorite liaisons were about to end.
Josephine looked at him and marveled at his perfect features. His lovely peaches-and-cream complexion, more akin to that of a milkmaid than a man. His perfectly formed muscular chest, his defined abdominal pack. “On Friday.”
“I see.” He moved toward her and gathered her in his arms. “I have never met nor will I ever meet another woman like you.”
“Yes, you will. There are plenty of us now.” She was touched but somewhat aghast at his romantic side.
“No, you, my dear, are an original.”
“Well, yes, that is true.” Josephine started applying her very own lipstick in the round deco mirror.
“Can I still see you? After he arrives—for an assignation?” He took his white shirt off the wooden hanger and put it on slowly.
“Once he is here I am back to being a sadie.…” She smiled slowly.
“Sadie?” He looked perplexed.
“Sadie, the married lady.” She rolled her eyes and he laughed. “Don’t vorry, though, I can fulfill one of your requests.” She kissed him.
“What’s that?”
“You shall see,” she said cryptically. She walked to the door, turned as he followed her like a puppy, and bestowed a final, impossibly romantic kiss.
Six months later, despite his stopping by the store to beg her to rendezvous, Josephine spurned all invitations. Jon Blake was now ensconced in the town house with Miles. Their reconciliation had been civil and tidy and in her son’s best interest since she was working constantly. Josephine spent the next several months immersed in research and development, creating a signature fragrance. Once it was done and she approved the scent and the packaging, she sent a sample bottle, wrapped in tissue paper, with a note to the duke. Cavendish saw the small distinctive bag with the Herz Beauty logo when his footman delivered the package. He opened the present and note with haste. It was classic Josephine, he thought, as he sat at his campaign desk and read her curved yet strong script.
“Dear Duke, you said you wanted to bottle my scent. Here it is.” He unwrapped the frosted bottle of her new fragrance and gazed at it, shaking his head. Only Josephine could pull this off. He smiled and spritzed the parfum on his wrist. It was so potent and feminine he almost swooned at the distinctive scent.
Not to mention the name of her new fragrance.
Empress Josephine.
17
STAR EMPLOYEE
New York City, 1934
Four years had passed, slowly and quickly at the same time. It seemed like yesterday and yet, a lifetime away. Constance’s marriage four years earlier to Van was a functional, businesslike affair. She worked seven days a week, he spent a few hours each day at the family office on Park Avenue and most of his time playing polo or golf or sailing at his clubs in the company of men. They met up for a dinner party or a night on the town on Saturday evenings. Once a month Constance would submit and allow him the privilege of fumbling atop her supine and immobile body as he grunted and pumped away. She steeled herself with gin, and while he was atop, she ran the monthly numbers in her head. She would often recall her bawdy American grandmother, who once counseled her about marriage and sex. “Constance,” she said, “when you get married if you want to keep a man, just lay back and spread ’em for Old Glory.” She had that goal in mind and was achieving it. It was fair to say that Constance Gardiner, the ever-so-focused Mrs. Van Wyke, had reached her goal and in doing so had become formidable.
The business had grown as well, with five offices and fifty employees. Some full- and some part-time, but fifty nonetheless.
It was not long into her tenure at Gardiner Cosmetics before CeeCee Lopez made herself indispensable. Her organizational skills were impeccable and her natural flair for management brought calm where there had been chaos before. Though she began her post at the front desk, answering the phone and ushering guests into the expanding office with offers of cold and hot beverages, it was not long before she had advanced to a full-fledged administrative position once there was more staff. CeeCee was a natural leader. She liked people and she understood them. She knew how to put them at ease, how to make them feel cared for, and how to play on their weaknesses and strengths. It wasn’t that CeeCee set out to identify a person’s Achilles’ heel, but she had a highly attuned intuitive sense of what people yearned for most, and she employed this, consciously or not, to excellent effect.
Though Constance hated to lose CeeCee’s presence as the first face of Gardiner Cosmetics when clients, vendors, and customers entered the office, she quickly saw that CeeCee’s strengths were best utilized in a role with more responsibility. Within months of her employment and the growth of the brand, CeeCee was promoted to office manager, and six months later, she was promoted to director of new products. CeeCee was blessed with the same intuitive understanding of business that she had with people. She was able to assess a marketing plan with a similarly searing eye, sussing out the weaknesses and the strengths—and communicating both in a few words. She quickly became Constance’s secret weapon in almost every arena, from long-term planning for the brand to tweaks on specific products. Her best and strongest asset was being able to root out and train the ever-expanding army of Gardiner Girls with Molly; understanding who would be a leader in her local area; who possessed the ambition, social skills, and confidence to become a best-selling door-to-door saleswoman. Constance’s dependence on her added a certain heft to the relationship.
CeeCee also had practical knowledge that Constance found invaluable. As the inventor of her own pomade for African American girls, CeeCee had a strong perspective and vast knowledge of hair. CeeCee intimately understood the importance of hair in a black woman’s life, the cultural weight placed on managing, cleaning, straightening, and “taming” her hair. She knew the hours and dollars black women spent in salon chairs. And she understood the importance, the necessity, of these hours to conform to white people’s—and potential employers’—expectations of a black woman in this society. The chain of community, as one woman would do another woman’s hair, was a crucial lesson she brought to the training of the Gardiner Girls. And she stressed the camaraderie, the sense of sisterhood and community. While her focus was on her job at Gardiner, she hoped one day to empower other black women with better solutions for the care of their hair. Not all women had enjoyed the mobility that CeeCee had, advancing from a youthful environment of oppression to one of opportunity. She hoped to have her own company one day. But for now, her position at Gardiner Cosmetics was the perfect way to learn the trade, to bolster her understanding for a future business. It als
o made CeeCee the ultimate resource for Constance; CeeCee was not just an assistant but a fellow inventor. Appreciation quickly grew into affection, and dependence gradually grew into need.
It was not long into her employment that Constance began to harbor feelings for CeeCee. The difference CeeCee made to everyday life could not be overstated. The order she brought to necessary tasks, the sense of calm that she brought to the office, the feeling of relief Constance felt in her presence, was hard to deny. Molly and the other women in the office all enjoyed and respected her input and company. When CeeCee took over as office manager, things just felt better. The concurrent surge in revenue could not be written off to coincidence, and Constance rewarded her with a small raise and then a bonus.
The Gardiner Cosmetics business began a rapid expansion. Pharmacies and department stores all vied for the best-selling face creams and cosmetics. The next frontier, her Gardiner Girl door-to-door model, was gaining strength and attention in the local press. Now everyday women could earn money, help their husbands, their children, and themselves with much-needed funds. CeeCee had helped Constance develop a simple product kit. Most Gardiner Girls who could not afford the kit and wanted to be in business would commit to a simple and affordable down payment and pay for the kit over time through profits from the products. And once they did they were able to earn money and work part-time, which allowed the average wife and mother to drop off their children at school, pick them up, and make dinner while being able to work a few hours a day for the needed extra income. It was hailed as liberating, innovative, and a breakthrough, even a movement. And it meant hiring women and educating them from products to sales.… Navigating this transition was crucial, and Constance could not have faced these challenges without CeeCee Lopez. Though her title and duties had changed, CeeCee was more truthfully a partner in the Gardiner business and it was not long before Constance seemed to require CeeCee’s input on every important decision.
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