April Snow (Dana McGarry Series Book 2)

by Lynn Steward

  “I wish everything were this tranquil,” Dana said reflectively. “Or as easy as learning to get on a horse.”

  “Wishing it were easier to get to know Amanda?” Mark said, looking at the dirt path ahead as two joggers coming from the direction of the reservoir passed them.

  Dana smiled and looked sideways at Mark. “Yes, and getting the boutique up and running.”

  Mark squeezed Dana’s hand tighter. “Getting to know the child of someone you’re dating always takes time. The boutique is a different story, however. Helen remains an obstacle, but that’s no reason why we can’t follow our plan.” He returned Dana’s gaze as he spoke. “I’ve had to fight for almost everything in my life. The right to take riding lessons, permission to go to the Wharton School and not a medical college, and, later, the way I wanted to run the company. My dad is a difficult guy, always challenging my vision, but we can’t live in little bubbles, like the Finzi-Continis. I suppose that’s why I create challenges for myself whenever things seem to be sailing along smoothly. It gives me a competitive edge and reminds me that there will always be something to push against what I’m trying to achieve.”

  They passed several tourists taking pictures. A photographer with half a dozen cameras slung over his shoulder was looking in the distance through a tripod-mounted zoom lens. He smiled at the couple and tipped his cap. Dana smiled back before walking on.

  “You didn’t have to fight for me,” she said.

  “Yes, it just feels … right, doesn’t it?”

  Twenty paces further, Mark stopped and encircled Dana with his arms, drawing her close as he kissed her passionately on the lips.

  “For now, it’s a perfect bubble, and I’m happy to live in it all weekend,” Dana said.

  “Then that’s just what we’ll do. No talk about boutiques, Bauer & Sons , France, or the Hampton Classic. You’ve had your first riding lesson, met Amanda, and the gears are in motion with Irwin. I think we’ve both earned a little quiet time.”

  Dana leaned her body against Mark and put her arm around his waist as they continued to walk. An occasional rider slowly trotted by, and they passed an older man in a brown tweed jacket, obviously a birdwatcher, who was looking up into the trees with binoculars and writing his observations in a spiral notebook.

  “Where shall we have dinner tonight?” Dana asked. “Sal’s trattoria?”

  “I know just the place,” Mark said.

  “Where?”

  “My apartment. We’ll drop by your place after lunch. You can change clothes, pack a bag, and pick up Wills. Tonight, everything we need will be at my apartment.”

  “Everything?”

  “Yep. You and me.”

  “I think you’re spoiling me, Mr. Senger.”

  “Gladly. And you have to start taking care of Dana, too. Stay focused on what you need and what makes you happy.”

  “That’s what Father Macaulay’s been telling me.”

  “The priest in London?”

  “Yes. He’s a wise man. And kind.”

  “You’ll have to tell me more about him sometime. Anyway, why don’t we go over to Sal’s for a quick lunch, get our chores done, and be back to my place by four. We’ll have a long, leisurely evening. And we’ll sleep in tomorrow. Read the Times and—”

  “And you can make some hockey puck pancakes.”

  “Amanda was exaggerating. They weren’t that bad. They could have been oven mitts, but not hockey pucks. I’ll put breakfast into your capable hands. How about a smoked salmon frittata? We’ll buy what we need at Zabar’s after we pick up Wills.”

  They kissed again and continued on. Dana leaned her head against Mark’s shoulder and closed her eyes to block out the rest of the world. For the moment, there was no B. Altman, in-store boutique, or private label. She had the present moment, which was more than enough to make her happy.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Dana arrived at work early Monday morning since she would be leaving the store at noon to dart home and be ready for Irwin’s driver to pick her up and bring her to his factory in Brooklyn. She was meeting with Irwin and his head tailor to present a selection of sportswear from her wardrobe that would inspire the British clothing line. After a romantic weekend with Mark, she felt as energized as when she’d walked the streets of London or shopped the departments at Jaeger. Even her shaky start with Amanda no longer weighed on her mind since Mark was convinced that Amanda would learn to accept his relationship with Dana given time, which was enough to put her mind at ease.

  Helen asked her to bring the latest projections on the Nantucket line to her office at ten. This seemed odd to Dana, who had given Helen projections for the line the week before. A little before ten, therefore, Dana gathered up the appropriate file and brought it to the divisional manager, wondering what was really on her mind. Helen glanced at the numbers for all of thirty seconds before dropping them on the side of her desk.

  “Have a seat, Dana,” Helen said, giving her full attention to Dana instead of occasionally glancing up from the work on her desk.

  Dana sat, knowing that she’d been right. Something else was on Helen’s mind, not the Nantucket numbers.

  Helen smiled and leaned forward, hands clasped. “You’re very good at your job, Dana. You continue to bring B. Altman many innovative ideas.”

  “Thank you, Helen,” Dana replied, wondering where the conversation was going.

  “As we saw with the teen makeup section, when the location became available in the cosmetic department, we were able to implement your idea. We all agree that it’s been a huge success, but timing is everything.”

  At moments like this, Dana was ready to run from Helen and B. Altman to the position of fashion director at the House of Cirone. Maybe it was Mark’s influence, but she was becoming more confident and, as such, less tolerant for these patronizing conversations. She wanted to remind Helen that she’d fought Dana every step of the way and that the only reason the store had a teen cosmetic department was because Dana saw the opportunity to create a location for it. It hadn’t magically appeared, as Helen implied. It was Bob Campbell, not Helen, who’d given Dana the green light.

  Remaining politically correct, however, Dana agreed with everything Helen said.

  “Good,” Helen said. “You’re a valuable member of our team, and after all the years you’ve been with the store, we’d hate to ever lose you. So please heed my advice.”

  Dana was suddenly concerned. Had Helen somehow gotten wind of Johnny’s offer to work for the House of Cirone? Had Andrew let a random comment slip by accident, one that had traveled back to Helen’s office? It didn’t seem likely, but something was on Helen’s mind, and Dana didn’t have to wait long to find out what it was.

  “I’ll be perfectly honest,” Helen said, “and I’m speaking to you as a friend, not your boss. I’ve noticed that you spend an awful lot of time looking at the build-out for your Nantucket boutique. When I arrived this morning, I thought that I saw you measuring one of the walls.”

  “You can’t blame a girl for dreaming,” Dana said innocently. She hated keeping her plans with Irwin a secret from Helen, but she had no choice. Dana had made the pitch, and Helen had unequivocally refused to consider it.

  “Dreaming is fine,” Helen said, her expression still pleasant, “as long as you’re not entertaining any ideas of resurrecting the boutique. You’ve gone around me before, but it’s not going to happen again. It would mean your job.”

  Dana was more confused than ever. “You’ve already made that very clear, Helen.”

  “I just wanted to make sure that you still understand my position. Like I said, you’re a valuable asset to the store, and I’d hate to lose that asset. You know, Dana, I admire your ambition, but there is a chain of command around here, and I suggest you stay in line.”

  “Of course, Helen.”

  “By the way, have you seen Andrew? He’s not here and hasn’t called in.”

  “He said the other day that he th
ought he was coming down with something.”

  “Well, he could at least have the presence of mind to give us a call,” Helen said tersely.

  Dana left the office, unsure about what had just transpired. When she returned to her office, her assistant handed her three messages, all from Mark, and said, “He says it’s urgent.”

  Dana called Mark’s office, and she was put through immediately.

  “What’s up?” Dana asked him. “First Helen starts acting peculiar, and now you’re frantically calling me. It’s turning out to be a strange day.”

  “You talked with Helen this morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you already know then. Damn. I was hoping to get in touch first so I could break the news.”

  “News? What news? Somebody please tell me what’s going on here. Helen just reiterated that there’s not going to be a British boutique, but I already know her position, so that can’t be what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s not. Helen called me early this morning and told me that she’s giving the selling space to Jones New York. She ordered me to dismantle the boutique. Jones is giving B. Altman an exclusive collection, and Helen wants to test the line in that prime selling space since it’s right off the escalator.”

  “This could change everything!” Dana declared. “When does Helen want this in place?”

  “As soon as possible from what I can tell.”

  “It explains my unusual talk with Helen just now,” Dana said. “I think she suspects that I haven’t given up on my original plan, so she wants to push this through. Mark, this is terrible! If Helen succeeds, then it doesn’t matter how good my custom-designed separates line is. There won’t be any place to sell it, at least not as I had envisioned. It’s the boutique that completes the idea.”

  “I know, I know,” Mark said, “but let’s not hit the panic button. I’ve already called Irwin and told him that time is of the essence. I assume you’re still bringing him samples today?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts. Let’s stay focused and get the samples to Irwin. I don’t have anyone to dismantle the boutique tomorrow. My crew is in the middle of a major build-out at the Met. We still have a window of opportunity, so let’s stay the course.”

  “Okay, but life sure was easier inside the bubble for the past two days.”

  “And we’ll get there again, but we always knew this was something we’d have to fight for, right?”

  “Very true.”

  “Then let’s fight. And don’t let on that you know what Helen is up to. Play it close to the vest.”

  “I’m already there,” Dana said. “Helen gave me fair warning, but it’s going to be business as usual.”

  “Perfect,” Mark said. “We’ll see this through. Don’t worry.”

  Dana hung up and returned to work. On the way to the selling floor, she passed Helen twice and smiled quickly, knowing that Helen was scrutinizing every aspect of her body language. The situation was frustrating, but Dana reminded herself that Helen wasn’t an evil genius trying to thwart her career. She was a good woman, but one who was extremely controlling and had her own way of doing things. By noon Dana was exhausted from thinking about her morning conversation with Helen and her subsequent conversation with Mark. She was glad to get back to the carriage house to walk Wills, collect her suitcase of samples, and be whisked away to Brooklyn for a creative session with Irwin. It wouldn’t be long before she was lost in a sea of beautiful fabrics on the way to charting a new course for B. Altman.

  • • •

  Women’s manufacturers were tucked away on the side streets off Seventh Avenue, but many menswear manufacturers, whose showrooms were on Sixth Avenue, had factories in Brooklyn. Knowing that this location was off Dana’s beaten path, Irwin met her at the front door, insisting that she allow him to give her a tour of the entire facility. His pride in his operation was obvious as demonstrated by his warm welcome and eagerness to show her the factory layout. Dana followed him after handing the suitcase of clothes to one of Irwin’s assistants.

  Bauer & Sons Clothiers was housed in a four-story brick building with loft spaces on every floor crowded with racks of clothing, cutting tables, steam pressers, bolts of fabric, and seamstresses and tailors at their stations. Men and women with tape measures around their necks scurried from one room to another as sewing machines hummed beneath wide lamps hanging from the ceiling. Irwin introduced Dana to his department heads, ending with the head tailor, Steve Palazzo, who’d already hung Dana’s samples on a rolling rack.

  “Steve has been with me for twenty-eight years,” Irwin said. “We met in Milan, and he joined me a month later. You couldn’t be in better hands, Dana.”

  “So nice to meet you, Steve,” Dana said with a twinkle in her eyes, no longer showing the stress of the morning. I think I’ll be easy to work with. I know exactly what I want.”

  “Famous last words,” Irwin said laughing. “Now where do you want to start? Fabrics or patterns?”

  “Fabrics,” Dana said.

  “Come this way,” Steve said as Dana and Irwin followed him into a section across the floor that was shelved with wall-to-wall bolts of fabrics sectioned by color, pattern, and weave.

  Dana made her selections in twenty minutes, limiting the coordinated separates line to muted taupe, beige, and cream wool accented with brown tweed, lovat glen plaid, and oatmeal pinwale corduroy. Dana’s proposed department would also carry basics in gray flannel and camel hair. A double-face loden was chosen for a duffle coat.

  “You do know what you want,” Irwin said as they walked to the cutting room where the samples were waiting.

  “I want to keep the line simple for the launch. The neutral colors will be attractive when displayed with coordinating cashmere sweaters and Jersey shawls. However, I can’t get into those showrooms to place orders until Bob approves the concept.”

  “Mark called this morning and told me that we’re under the gun a bit. Is that right?”

  “Unfortunately it is. The space we discussed at dinner is being allocated to Jones New York.”

  “I can tell you’re worried,” Irwin said, “but I’ve been under the gun myself more than a few times. Sometimes my customers want their orders yesterday, and I’m accustomed to the pressure. You have a clear vision of what we have to do, so I don’t anticipate any down time.”

  Dana nodded, feeling at least partially relieved.

  The next two hours were spent designing the line, with Dana requesting changes to the fit and finishes of the samples.

  After Irwin called for the car to bring Dana back to Manhattan, they shared their excitement for the new venture and the business opportunity it represented for both of them.

  “I really want this to happen, Irwin. I’m going to prove to my boss that I’m not a dreamer and that my vision is based on solid reasoning and good marketing sense.”

  “Nothing wrong with dreaming. It’s an important first step, but most people don’t follow through and do what it takes to turn a dream into a reality.”

  “I know I’m in good hands with you and Mark,” Dana said.

  Irwin leaned close to Dana. “Let’s make it happen.”

  “I have no doubt it will!” Dana said.

  • • •

  Back at Sniffen Court, Dana felt confident once again as a result of her meeting with Irwin. It had served as the perfect counterbalance to Helen’s decision to give space to Jones New York—and intimidate Dana in the process. Filled with new hope, she had dinner and was about to go upstairs to read when the phone rang. It was Johnny, who had called as usual in order to take Dana’s emotional temperature and fish for an answer regarding his job offer. Dana, however, didn’t give him any of the reassurances he was looking for. Instead, she described what she’d been doing for the past few days.

  “You’re taking riding lessons?” he asked.

  “Yes, at Claremont. I did really well. I wasn’t at all nervous.”

&nb
sp; “Who arranged the lessons? Mark?”

  “Yes. Mark’s been riding since he was a child, and his daughter’s a show jumper.”

  “Have you met his daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Alright, Johnny. Stop. This has become an interrogation.”

  “Sorry,” Johnny said. “I can’t deny it. I’m a bit curious about Mark. I would never have expected that—”

  “That what?”

  “I don’t know. He just doesn’t seem like your type.”

  “You’re smothering me.”

  “It looks like Mark is the one being overly protective what with his encouraging you to work with his friend. Sounds a little too cozy. “

  “He’s trying to help me achieve what I want, and what I want is for B. Altman to carry a private line of British-inspired clothing.”

  “It sounds like a long shot to me,” Johnny said.

  “And you sound like a mother hen to me.”

  Johnny was frustrated with Dana’s stubbornness, but he let the comment pass. “Speaking of mothers, your mom has been calling me, asking if you’ve joined the company yet. She’s worried about you, and I’m running out of things to tell her.”

  “Why doesn’t she ask me directly?” Dana asked, getting annoyed. “Am I a hot topic of conversation for you two?”

  Johnny was silent for several seconds. “I’ll be honest, Dana. We’re concerned that you’re in over your head. You’ve only been separated for a few months, and you’re jeopardizing your job and rushing into this relationship with Mark.”

  “Johnny?”

  “Yes?”

  “You know I love you, but I’m not going to talk about this anymore tonight. I promise I’ll be in touch, but I had a long day.”

  “Okay, Dana. We love you, too. We just want the best for you.”

  “I’m the best judge of that. Goodnight.”