by Lynn Steward
“What might he ask for?” Dana said.
“Hard to say. Perhaps a smaller amount of either the settlement sum or the alimony. Maybe both. The finances of divorce can be very fluid, but we shouldn’t panic or change our position until we have more information.”
“I understand,” Dana said.
“And one more thing,” Rudnick said. “Be careful what you say and where you say it. You might still be under surveillance, and private investigators can be anywhere. And they don’t always fit stereotypes. I’ve even heard of investigators posing as blind men with tin cups on street corners. It only takes a cheap pair of sunglasses. They also use some pretty sophisticated equipment and can record you from great distances. Go about your business, but just be mindful that you’re probably being watched.”
“It’s enough to make somebody paranoid,” Dana said.
“It is, but it will be over soon. Believe me, Brett wants to get this settled as much as you do. He’s well aware that you have those damaging photos of him and his mistress. He also knows that, if pushed too hard, you might use them. He obviously has some regrets about his quick agreement to your settlement proposal and may think your new relationship with Mark has softened your heart. He no doubt figures it’s worth a try.”
“Janice Conlon,” Dana uttered.
“Who?”
“The mistress. She’s a scheming woman who, I’m guessing, might be egging him on so there’s more money for her if they stay together.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened,” Rudnick said, “but it sounds like you’ve moved on with your life, so leave Brett to me. And don’t have any contact with him in case he tries to manipulate or intimidate you. I’ll be in touch if I hear anything.”
Rudnick stood and ushered Dana from the conference room.
As Dana returned to B. Altman, she couldn’t help but study people lining the street or standing on the main buying floor. She’d been followed for the past two weeks—maybe longer—and she now had to be extra careful in conversation. And to think that I broke down in tears over Brett while I was at the Sacred Heart Chapel in London, Dana thought. That won’t ever happen again, and unless Alan Rudnick tells me otherwise, Brett’s going to pay me everything I asked for. And he can take that back to his blond bombshell.
Dana resumed her work, excited that Irwin would be at her apartment later.
Chapter Forty-Five
Irwin arrived at Dana’s shortly before seven o’clock on Wednesday evening accompanied by his driver and head tailor, Steve, who helped him carry several large suitcases of merchandise for Dana to inspect.
“I brought Steve along in case you wanted to make a few last minute changes,” Irwin said. “He can make the adjustments tomorrow, and you’ll have them back on Friday.”
“Good idea,” Dana said as Steve unpacked the samples, hanging them on a portable rack he quickly assembled in the living room.
Dana could barely contain her excitement as she saw the luxury sportswear line appear, one tailored garment at a time: a camel hair blazer with matching pants and skirt, full-cut trousers in gray flannel and Irish tweed, the lovat glen plaid kilt, and a loden duffle coat.
“Close your eyes, Dana,” Irwin teased as he unpacked the four-button navy twill blazer.
“No peaking.” Holding up the blazer, he said, “Now let’s slip it on. There you go. Okay, what do you see?”
“Irwin, I love them!” Dana said in disbelief as she admired the pheasants on the navy enamel buttons. I was only joking when I showed you the photograph. Where did you get them?”
“I have my connections. In fact, look at all the buttons. They’re antique leather and the finest horn. We aim to impress and want you to succeed. We want that account!”
“The British Shop ~ B. Altman,” Dana said aloud as she read the silk label. “We’re going to do it, Irwin.”
“Do you really think so? You really think you can sell the whole new concept?”
“More than ever,” Dana answered. “Bob Campbell is holding a meeting for buyers tomorrow morning. Rumor has it that he’s going to announce some big initiative for the coming months. With any luck, I’ll see an opportunity to pitch The British Shop based on what he says.”
“So tomorrow’s the big day? Are you sure you have everything you need?”
“I won’t need the samples for a day or two,” Dana said. “So if I think of anything, I’ll call. Tomorrow I make the sales pitch.”
“Who can say no to you, Dana?” Irwin asked. “Your enthusiasm is seductive.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“No doubt about it. My money’s on you.” Irwin turned to leave with Steve, but turned and added, “Literally!”
Dana and Irwin burst out laughing, and she gave him a warm hug before seeing him out.
Dana poured herself a sherry and looked at the clothing samples for over an hour while preparing her presentation to Bob. Steve and Irwin had gone the extra mile on every front: the silk linings, the top stitching, the label, and the buttons—all the details to set apart merchandise worthy of its own boutique. She didn’t think Bob would be able to resist either her concept or the marketing potential for the store. It would be a win-win situation, followed by a full-page spread in Vogue. Dana was sure that, too, would happen. Dream big or don’t dream at all. It was Grace Mirabella’s personal style, and the editor-in-chief of Vogue was redefining the magazine to reflect the new American working woman, whose preference was classic separates. The timing of The British Shop would be perfect.
Dana was also happy that she and Mark were back on track now that Amanda was out of danger. His explanation for not having secured a divorce made perfect sense. He was clearly trying, but Marsha’s demands were unreasonable. Frankly, she had too much time on her hands and used it to think of ways to aggravate Mark. What a waste of a life, as though the extra money she was demanding would make her happy. Why would she want to live in a big house by herself? Amanda was either in college or at Judd’s. No, she didn’t need the home and was only using it as a means to get more money and attention from Mark. Dana knew with certainty that Mark, with his dogged determination, as well as Alan Rudnick on his side, would eventually free himself from this miserable situation. In the meantime, she would not allow Marsha to drive a wedge between them.
There had been many bumps in the road over the past month, but Dana had learned the previous year that problems existed to be solved, not to discourage or deter, and that was Mark’s philosophy as well. It was one of dozens of things that made them perfectly suited for one another.
The storm clouds were moving away, and for Dana McGarry, it was still a very good life.
• • •
Dana joined the other buyers in the Charleston Garden restaurant for an eight o’clock meeting Thursday morning. Bob entered carrying several folders and flashed a big grin to the room as he said, “Good morning, everyone! I’ve got a lot to talk about, so let’s get started.”
Bob opened the top folder as he stood at a podium at the head of the room, paused, and began speaking.
“As most of you already know, it’s a tough economic climate out there, and it’s getting tougher by the day. Inflation remains high and sales are … well, I don’t have to tell you. They’re soft.” He pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes, and continued. “I’m therefore going to ask buyers to find a single line in their departments that can be made price-sensitive for a holiday promotion. We can offer our customers good value with a higher markup.”
Men and women around the room nodded their heads, understanding the wisdom of the proposal and its sound economic sense. Bob elaborated on his idea, taking questions from various buyers about items in their respective departments. Everyone, however, seemed in total agreement as to the merits of the executive vice-president’s strategy.
“Excellent,” Bob said as he gathered up his papers and folders at the end of the meeting. “Everybody get your favorite manufactur
ers to sharpen their pencils so we can be ready well before the season goes into high gear. I’ll be meeting with division heads in a month for an update.” He quickly exited the room and was out the door, moving on to his next meeting.
In a flash, Dana knew where her opening lay to pitch The British Shop if she could only get a few moments alone with Bob. She dashed to the front of the restaurant, flew through the door while others stood and spoke of the meeting, and caught up with him as he hurried down the hall.
“Great meeting, Bob,” Dana said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Helen wasn’t in view. “Can I have a few minutes alone? I have an idea that will take your directive to another level.”
“I’m intrigued,” he said with a smile, “but it’ll have to wait until this evening. I have one meeting after another scheduled today, and I’m already late for my next one. Can you keep a lid on that enthusiasm of yours for a few hours?”
“Absolutely,” Dana said. “What time should I stop by your office?”
“Five thirty.”
“I’ll be there,” Dana said as she turned and headed back to her office.
Andrew popped in for a quick hello and saw her standing behind her desk, hands on her hips.
“You look like you’re about to explode with energy,” Andrew commented. “I heard about Bob’s pricing strategy, and I’m guessing that today is the day you’re going to drop the bomb and pitch the boutique. What’s your angle?”
“A good one,” Dana responded. “It seems to me that the price-sensitive approach is—”
“Andrew, do you have a minute?” one of his assistants asked as she craned her neck around the doorframe of Dana’s office.
“Duty calls,” Andrew said, shrugging. “Good luck.”
Dana could hardly concentrate on anything except her meeting with Bob. It seemed that the hours were dragging by, the hands of the clock hardly seeming to move as she glanced at it every few minutes. She passed Helen in the hall at eleven o’clock, prompting the head of the junior department to stop and ask, “Are you working on price-sensitive merchandise for Bob?”
“Harder than you can imagine,” Dana replied.
“Good. I suspect you’ll want to select the Nantucket line, which is the most logical choice,” Helen said, resuming her quick stride without waiting for a response.
Bob Campbell’s secretary unexpectedly called Dana at noon to notify her that her boss would like to see her now. He had thirty minutes before he had to leave for the day.
Dana took a deep breath and walked quickly to Bob’s office. Everything she and Mark had planned came down to a single meeting with Bob Campbell. It might be all or nothing.
“You have that look I’ve come to recognize,” Bob said from behind his desk. “I take it that there’s some kind of project percolating in your very fertile mind. Have a seat and tell me about it.”
Dana sat opposite the executive vice-president, and although she’d been preparing what she would say all day long, she abandoned all the phrases she’d rehearsed in her mind and spoke from her heart.
“Bob,” she began, “what if I brought you not one line, but a whole department of merchandise that would guarantee a higher profit margin, one that would also provide a marketing opportunity that promoted B. Altman?”
“I’m listening,” Bob said, sitting back in his chair, hands behind his head.
“First, the concept. A free-standing women’s boutique of coordinated separates. Bob, you know it’s time we had a boutique. Second, the name. The British Shop by B. Altman. Just picture the silk label.”
“But—”
“Wait a second,” Dana interrupted, not wanting to delay her pitch. “I’ve saved the best for last. All the merchandise would be made exclusively for B. Altman! Camel hair and navy blazers, gray flannel and tweed trousers, long wool jersey culotte skirts—even selective outerwear. And all the separates will have dyed-to-match knitwear within steps of each other. Think of the multiple sales! And the merchandise will be designed just for us, cutting out the middleman, thus affording a higher markup and lower prices.”
Bob sat forward, the smile on his face mixed with a look of incredulity. “It would be great, but I still want to see your magic wand. An exclusive B. Altman line? Wow. You’ve caught me off guard here, Dana. Have you sat in on a board of directors meeting that I missed? You’re talking about something that would take an enormous amount of work, not to mention money.” He glanced at his watch, knowing he had to leave in twenty minutes.
“Actually, Bob, virtually everything is already in place. For the first season, we won’t have to buy the piece goods, just pay for manufacturing.”
“You’ve completely lost me.”
Dana smiled. “I know it sounds too good to be true, but I have it all worked out. Mark Senger introduced me to a friend of his, Irwin Bauer.”
“I’ve heard the name,” Bob said. “Bauer & Sons Clothiers.”
“The very same. I brought my favorite Jaeger sportswear to Irwin and asked him to produce samples using his menswear fabrics,” Dana said, beaming. “What we have to show you is the beginning of a polished American line with British style, which is exactly what today’s career-minded businesswoman wants, not to mention that the look is on the editorial pages of Vogue every month. Irwin is ready to expand his business and would love to be a vendor for B. Altman. Believe me—he’ll sharpen his pencil.”
Bob nodded thoughtfully. “And you’re convinced the boutique is the way to go?”
“Yes, the clothing needs its own setting to make a statement. We won’t overstock items but rather be selective with the merchandise and the number of pieces made. Customers will return often to see what’s new. The concept is perfect for the boutique model, which should be original, unique, and have a concentrated look. Plus the boutique already partially exists.”
“I thought Helen was getting rid of it?”
“True. Mark was ordered to halt the build-out, but he’s had his hands full because of his daughter’s riding accident.”
“Yes, I’ve heard. Terrible news.”
“It would take no time to add wood-paneled walls and display cases, wool plaid upholstered chairs, and mahogany tables for sweaters, like Brooks Brothers does. The sales staff would be asked to wear the merchandise—tweed skirts and cashmere sweaters. We can serve Fortnum & Mason tea and sell silk tartan shirts at Christmas with black velvet skirts. There’s no end to the merchandising potential, and you can open a menswear boutique just like it on the second floor.”
“I can see where you’re going, Dana.” Bob said. “I’ve been talking all morning, but you’ve left me speechless. There’s bound to be a downside.”
“Just one,” Dana said. “Helen, who has sworn that no boutique will ever grace the interior of B. Altman. Otherwise, we have the merchandise, the manufacturer, the floor space, and the concept. The question is whether or not you’ll let me run with it.”
Bob was silent for almost a full minute. “Dana,” he said at last, “the idea is nothing short of brilliant. I’d have to see the samples, of course. How soon can you arrange that?”
“The samples are on a rolling rack in my coach house. I’ll get a cover from one of the departments, and Andrew and I can walk it over.” Dana paused, looking Bob directly in the eye. “I’ve worked really hard on this, and I’m convinced it would be a winner. We have a target audience that wants classic but luxurious sportswear at less than designer prices. And we finally can become competitive with others, like Bloomies, who are embracing the boutique concept. The feather in our cap is that we get a private label in the process from a manufacturer who is enthusiastic to work with us.”
Bob leaned back and ran his hand through his hair. “Hell of an idea, Dana. It’s hard not to say yes. This could be a grand slam home run if the numbers add up.”
“They will, but what about Helen?”
“It’s going to be a tough sell—no denying it. I don’t want to steamroll her or anybody else
for that matter, but I like what I’m hearing, and at the end of the day, Helen has to go along with what’s best for the store. It’s a small investment in the larger scheme of things, and it has a huge upside. Bring in the samples.”
“Thank you, Bob. They’ll be here when you arrive in the morning.”
Dana returned to her office and sat in silence. She took a deep breath, clenched her fist, and whispered, “Yes!” Her overwhelming instinct was to call Mark and tell him that she was on her way to finally getting The British Shop approved, but she didn’t want to disturb him at the hospital, and she knew he would be with Amanda. She had no doubt that he’d be proud of her.
She’d come a long way from the afternoon she’d shopped at Jaeger and had her epiphany about the possibilities of a British boutique of color-coordinated separates. It was finally going to happen. She could see it as clear as day.
Chapter Forty-Six
After a late lunch, Dana and Andrew rolled the rack of samples to the store, leaving them in the conference room next to Bob’s office. Dana then went about her usual duties, trying to keep her mind off The British Shop, which proved impossible. At three thirty, Mark called as she sat at her desk, reviewing her open-to-buy for the Nantucket line.
“I’ve got great news,” he said. “Amanda is on less pain medication, and she has more movement in her toes and ankles. The doctors are encouraged and say that she might be able to return home in three to four weeks. Moving her before then might jeopardize the spinal tissue that needs to close around the fusion points, but the neurosurgeon feels certain that she’s turned a corner.”
