Storing Up Trouble

by Jen Turano

  “Would you like to dispute anything Mrs. Goodman has told me so far?” Mr. Selfridge asked, settling his attention on Beatrix.

  “I believe Mrs. Goodman has been accurate in her assessment of the situation, although I wasn’t attempting to thumb my nose at protocol. I just wasn’t familiar with what a salesgirl was expected to do in that particular—”

  A knock on the door interrupted her right as Mr. Selfridge’s secretary poked her head in. “Mr. Blair, supervisor of Men’s Furnishings, needs to have a word with you, Mr. Selfridge.”

  “Tell him I’m in a meeting,” Mr. Selfridge returned.

  “He’s here about Miss Waterbury.”

  Mr. Selfridge shot a look of disbelief to Beatrix. “You may leave, Mrs. Goodman,” he said. “And please send in Mr. Blair.” He then settled back in his chair and stared at Beatrix as if he’d never encountered a salesgirl quite like her before.

  After Mr. Blair took Mrs. Goodman’s vacated seat beside Beatrix, not bothering to even acknowledge her, he launched into an account of everything Beatrix had done wrong, with the most grievous offense, at least according to Mr. Blair, being the fact that she’d taken away an impressive sale from one of his salesmen.

  Having held her tongue throughout Mr. Blair’s entire tirade, Beatrix finally had enough. Sitting forward, she caught Mr. Blair’s eye. “The only reason Mr. Nesbit requested my assistance was because he’d been all but ignored by your salesmen when he went over to select some items while I assisted his companion with choosing gloves.”

  “Neither Mr. Foster nor Mr. Rice would ever ignore a customer,” Mr. Blair said with a sniff.

  “Come now, Mr. Blair. From what I was told, your salesmen were assisting matrons known to be of the society set. You know that even with Marshall Field & Company expecting their associates to cater to every customer, some do get neglected when there’s more than one known wealthy customer in a department.”

  “That never happens.”

  “It does. You just don’t want to admit that in front of Mr. Selfridge.”

  Mr. Blair began quivering with indignation. “You’re impertinence is not helping your situation, Miss Waterbury.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but since you’ve leveled unfair charges against me, I believe I have no choice but to defend myself, although I wouldn’t say I’m being impertinent, more along the lines of brutally honest.”

  Mr. Selfridge sat forward. “You may go, Mr. Blair.”

  Even though Mr. Blair looked as if he wanted to argue some more, he rose to his feet, nodded to Mr. Selfridge, then strode from the room without a second glance at Beatrix.

  An uncomfortable silence filled the air until Mr. Selfridge blew out a breath. “Why do you believe Mr. Norman Nesbit, a gentleman who belongs to one of the wealthiest families in Chicago, was being ignored by the salesmen?”

  “In my humble opinion, that might have been caused by Mr. Nesbit’s appearance. His hair is much too long at the moment, something I explained to him when he asked me that same question, and I believe his slightly derelict appearance had the salesmen believing he wasn’t a gentleman with deep pockets.”

  Mr. Selfridge blinked. “You told one of our customers his hair was too long?”

  “He asked.”

  “How did he respond to your answer?”

  “He wasn’t upset, if that’s your concern, because he seemed genuinely curious about why he’d been ignored.”

  “Were you able to assist him with purchasing everything he wanted in Men’s Furnishings?”

  “I was, and I’m sure you’ll be interested to learn that it was another impressive sale.”

  Mr. Selfridge narrowed his eyes. “But it was a sale that was taken away from a salesman.”

  “Who was ignoring Mr. Nesbit.”

  “If you would have given the sale to one of the salesmen in that department, that would have defused any resentment they now feel toward you.”

  Beatrix’s brows drew together. “Why would I have done that?”

  “Because it would have allowed one of them to add an impressive sale to his books for the day.”

  “It allowed me to add an impressive sale to my book, but . . .” She stopped talking, took a second to organize thoughts that were scattering every which way, then nodded. “You put more importance on the sales the men make than the sales the women make, don’t you?”

  “That’s not a secret, Miss Waterbury. The men who work at Marshall Field are more competitive because they’re here to advance their careers. Women, on the other hand, usually take up employment so that they may contribute to household expenses. They often don’t advance because we don’t have many high-ranking positions that are suitable for women.”

  “Well, perhaps I’m determined to become a saleswoman instead of a measly salesgirl.”

  Mr. Selfridge’s brows shot up to his hairline. “Did you just call your position measly?”

  “Slip of the tongue.”

  “You should watch that tongue of yours, Miss Waterbury. It’s bound to get you into trouble.”

  “Excellent advice.”

  Mr. Selfridge settled back into his chair. “I suppose all that’s left to do now is figure out what to do with you.”

  “Something needs to be done with me?”

  “You abandoned your post, Miss Waterbury, and then you took away a sale from a salesman. Yes, something needs to be done with you.”

  Beatrix sat forward. “In the store handbook, it says that Mr. Field demands that we employees give the lady what she wants.”

  “And your point would be?”

  “Well, even though Mr. Nesbit is not a lady, I was giving him, a cherished customer, what he wanted—that being my assistance.”

  “True, this is true,” Mr. Selfridge said slowly.

  “And while I did leave my glove counter, I did so at the request of a customer. I then proceeded to give that customer exactly what he wanted, and I also sold him large quantities of those items.” She nodded. “That customer wouldn’t have purchased a single item if I’d not complied with his request, which means I see no reason for you to discipline me because I was, after all, only doing my job.”

  “You have to be disciplined. Two supervisors have taken time out of their busy day to complain to me about you.”

  “Then they should have spent their time reviewing the situation more thoroughly, because I was not being derelict in my duties.”

  Mr. Selfridge blew out a breath. “While you’ve presented a most compelling argument, I still have no choice but to take disciplinary action against you because if I don’t, it’ll cause all sorts of difficulties on the sales floor.” He turned and stared out the window, turning back to Beatrix a moment later. “Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m taking you out of the glove department and reassigning you to the coat check. In all honesty, I believe you’ll enjoy the coat check because you only need to take whatever coat, jacket, shawl, hat, or item a customer may hand you, then give them a retrieval ticket in return.”

  “That doesn’t seem like too harsh of a disciplinary action,” Beatrix said slowly.

  “It’s not, although it will be a fifty-cent reduction in your weekly pay.”

  Heat traveled up her neck. “You’re reducing my weekly pay? If you’re unaware, I only make seven dollars a week as it is.”

  “You’ll still be making six dollars and fifty cents a week, but if you don’t accept the demotion, you’ll be making nothing.”

  Beatrix had never felt so helpless in her life.

  That she believed a demotion was uncalled for was not in question, but what was in question was what she was going to do next.

  She was clearly at a crossroads.

  Unlike the other employees, she didn’t need the position. But if she balked at accepting the demotion, she was going to be dismissed, and that would mean she’d never learn where her current path might have led her, and she’d be failing at the first real challenge she’d ever been presented with i
n her privileged life.

  She didn’t want to be a failure, which meant she was going to have to accept the demotion and reduction in pay, even though doing so left her teeth on edge.

  Managing a nod as she rose to her feet, she summoned up the smile Marshall Field & Company expected of their employees. “I’m sure I’ll adore working in the coat check.”

  “See that you do,” Mr. Selfridge said curtly. “Because if you’re sent to my office again, I will dismiss you, make no mistake about that.”

  Chapter 15

  Norman could no longer deny that his life had turned downright peculiar.

  Gone were the days spent working on his inventions and scientific experiments without distractions, and unfortunately, he was beginning to believe returning to those distraction-free days was not something that was going to happen in the foreseeable future.

  He’d been certain that once he parted ways with Beatrix after their ill-fated adventure, his life would return to normal. However, he’d not seemed capable of resisting seeking Beatrix out, even when he had to resort to convincing Theo to go with him to Marshall Field & Company.

  It was a decision he was now regretting, what with how Theo had all but invited Beatrix to the ball for him. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind to invite Beatrix to attend the Potter Palmer affair with him, but what gentleman wanted someone else to speak for him?

  “What in the world are the two of you doing?”

  Blinking, Norman turned and discovered Beatrix bearing down on him as he stood beside Theo on the wooden sidewalk outside Marshall Field & Company. She was now wearing a fashionable hat that had blue and green feathers attached to it, those feathers waving back and forth as she marched toward him.

  For some reason, her eyes were flashing with temper, and given that the jacket she was wearing wasn’t properly buttoned, leaving it bunched up on one side, he got the distinct impression she’d been in a hurry to leave the store.

  He pulled out his pocket watch and consulted it. “I thought the store didn’t close until six.”

  She waved that aside. “Mr. Field allows his female employees to leave earlier than the men so that we, being of the fragile set, won’t be making our way home in the dark.”

  “Generous of him.”

  Additional temper flashed through her eyes. “Hardly not when he also evidently believes women don’t need to be paid as much as men, nor, apparently, does anyone at that store believe women deserve to be promoted to higher positions. That right there is why I was just taken to task because I did not turn the sale I made through your purchases over to one of the men in the furnishings department.”

  “The salesmen didn’t assist me with my purchases.”

  “Well, indeed, but they certainly were quick to complain to their supervisor about me stealing sales from them.”

  Theo raised a hand to her throat. “You weren’t fired because you helped Norman, were you?”

  Beatrix shook her head. “I wasn’t fired, although I was demoted to the coat check room, which results in a reduction in my weekly pay. And Mr. Selfridge informed me that if I’m sent to his office again, I’ll be dismissed on the spot.”

  “I need to have a word with Mr. Selfridge,” Norman said, striding into motion only to be pulled to a stop by Beatrix before he’d made it very far.

  “I don’t want you to have a word with Mr. Selfridge, although I thank you for the gesture.”

  “But you were demoted because of me.”

  “It was my decision to assist you even though I had the sneaking suspicion that leaving my counter wasn’t going to be considered acceptable by management.”

  Norman frowned. “Didn’t Mr. Selfridge speak with that saleswoman who offered to watch over your counter, the one who encouraged you to go with me to select collars?”

  “Mrs. Goodman spoke with her, but even after Miss Wheeler rose to my defense, Mrs. Goodman chose to lay all the blame directly at my feet, probably because she seems to believe I’m trouble.” She glanced at Theo, frowned, then looked back to him. “But enough about my problems. Why were the two of you just standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at each other?”

  Norman shrugged. “I was waiting for Theo to say something first after she caught up with me.”

  Beatrix arched a brow at Theo. “May I dare hope that you’ve only recently caught up with Norman?”

  “I found him about five minutes after I parted ways with you,” Theo mumbled.

  Beatrix flipped up the face of a dainty watch that was attached to a bracelet around her wrist. “You do realize that was over forty minutes ago, don’t you?”

  “Theo and I haven’t been standing out here for forty minutes.”

  “We have,” Theo countered. “But I thought you were staying silent so I’d know how annoyed you were with me over the business about Miss Waterbury going to the Palmer ball with you.”

  A dull throbbing took root in the back of Norman’s head. It was becoming abundantly clear that his life wasn’t simply peculiar of late; it was rapidly moving toward the chaotic. He didn’t enjoy chaos, tried to avoid it whenever possible, but it seemed to be closing in on him, causing him to act in a very un-Norman-like way . . . ever since he’d met Beatrix.

  Theo turned a scowl on Beatrix. “You have done something to him, haven’t you?” she demanded, thrusting Norman directly back into the chaos.

  Beatrix rolled her eyes. “Why do you keep asking me that? I already told you I’ve not done anything to Norman. If you’ll recall, I mentioned that you were to blame for him abruptly leaving the store, while also telling you how to rectify that situation, something you’ve evidently not attempted to do yet.”

  “I couldn’t seem to find the right words.”

  “Would you care to have me assist you with that?” Beatrix shot back.

  Theo began dragging the toe of her shoe in the dirt on the sidewalk, the action causing a weight to settle in the pit of Norman’s stomach.

  He’d been acquainted with Theo for years, spent hours every week in her company, and . . . he knew her. Any experiment he was working on, she was by his side, handing him whatever tool he needed or lending him her advice when an experiment failed.

  She was incredibly intelligent and more awkward than he was in social situations, but she always tried to be helpful.

  Realization hit him square in the face.

  Theo had not deliberately set out to embarrass him with Beatrix. She’d only been trying to spare him the unpleasantness of having to attend the ball with Miss Dinneen or Miss Ashburn. He’d done her a disservice by storming off in a huff as well as by refusing to speak to her once she’d rejoined him.

  Grabbing Theo by the hand and all but dragging her closer to Norman, Beatrix then gave Norman a bit of a push as well until no more than a few inches separated him from Theo.

  “You two are probably the most intelligent people I know,” Beatrix surprised him by saying.

  “Thank you,” he said in unison with Theo.

  “I wasn’t finished.”

  “Of course you weren’t,” he muttered.

  “Intelligence aside,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him, “you’re both incredibly dense when it comes to what most people consider common everyday occurrences, such as the situation you now find yourselves in.”

  “Did she just insult us again?” Theo asked.

  “I think she did.”

  Theo’s nose wrinkled. “I might be a touch deficient with social expectations as pertains to interactions with others, Miss Waterbury—”

  “Beatrix,” she corrected.

  “Beatrix then, but—”

  “And shall I call you Theodosia?” Beatrix interrupted.

  Theo’s mouth dropped open for a good few seconds before she smiled. “That would be lovely.”

  Beatrix returned the smile. “Wonderful, and you were saying?”

  It took a full minute before Theo spoke again, one she evidently used to gather her thou
ghts, a very unusual occurrence for Theo if there ever was one.

  “Ah yes, as I was about to say,” Theo continued, her cheeks a little pink, “I may be deficient when it comes to interacting with others, but I was going to take your advice in regard to Norman. I just hadn’t sufficiently composed what I wanted to say to him before you happened upon us.”

  Beatrix nodded. “Perfectly understandable, but may I dare hope that you’re ready now?”

  Theo gave a jerk of her head and turned to him. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you before with Beatrix. That was not my intention. I was merely trying to . . . ah . . .”

  “Make it possible for me to attend the ball without Miss Dinneen or Miss Ashburn as my guest?” Norman finished for her when Theo faltered.

  “Exactly.”

  “I just recently came to that conclusion as well, but allow me to extend an apology to you. It was not well done of me to storm off like that.”

  “I’d embarrassed you.”

  “You did, but I’m afraid I overreacted.”

  Theo inclined her head as the comfortable silence he was accustomed to whenever he was in her company settled around them, until Beatrix opened her mouth.

  “Don’t the two of you feel so much better?” she said cheerfully. “And see, that wasn’t very difficult at all, and now the two of you will be better prepared the next time you suffer a spat, something that friends occasionally suffer.”

  Norman frowned. “As has been mentioned before, by both of us, Theo and I aren’t friends.”

  Beatrix released a snort. “Of course you are. One doesn’t normally ask an acquaintance to participate in a shopping expedition, but here both of you are, standing outside Marshall Field & Company after spending time in each other’s company while shopping. Furthermore—”

  “There’s a furthermore?” Theo interrupted.

  “There’s always a furthermore,” Beatrix said.