“I thought we might do some Christmas shopping today,” Jack told her. “In the mood?” He made every attempt to act upbeat and enthusiastic.
“Sorry, Jack, but I’m on my way to B. Altman. Dana McGarry called early this morning and told me that there’s an opening for a grant manager with the Altman Foundation. I’ll get to know Dana and her friends that much faster. Everyone’s been so helpful and friendly. It’s not the big cold city I imagined.”
Jack said nothing. She would be working in the same building as Andrew—might even come into contact with him on a regular basis. He’d been correct in his estimation of the opportunistic Mr. McGarry: he was a bastard.
“Jack?” Patti said. “Anything wrong? You looked blank for a moment.”
“Not a thing,” Jack said, giving his wife a peck on the cheek. “Good luck with the interview. I’m sure you’ll get the job.”
“I have the experience,” Patti said, “but I’m only meeting with the store’s vice president and general manager. The decision will ultimately be made by the vice president of the foundation. This is just round one.”
“I’ve got a good feeling about it,” Jack said. “A really good feeling.”
Jack knew, of course, that Patti would get the job. It was a
fait accompli
.
D
ana could feel the pulse of the store and the holiday shoppers as clearly as she had eight days earlier, when she, Andrew, and Mark had stood on Fifth Avenue to admire the window display. In a real sense, she had come into her own over the past week, and she loved her job more than ever. As Kim might have said, it was part of her big picture.
The five girls of the Teen Advisory Board were already waiting at Dana’s office when she arrived a few minutes before ten. They spoke in excited whispers, and even the competitive irritability of Lisa Gelber had disappeared. It was obvious to Dana that they regarded themselves as a team. It was a good omen inasmuch as it validated her decision to create the board in the first place.
“You’re going to be modeling throughout the store today,” Dana explained. “It’s close to Christmas, and the floors are going to be crowded. What you have to remember at all times is that you’re ambassadors of B. Altman. Answer all questions from customers, and not just about what you’re wearing. If they want to know where a department is or where the restrooms are located, don’t just answer them, but be their escorts. If they ask you something you can’t answer, direct them to the nearest sales counter so a full-time employee can help them. It’s going to be a long afternoon, and I want you to keep a winning smile on your faces at all times. In fact, regard our customers as guests and make them feel good about shopping here. Can you do that?”
“It sounds exciting!” Kate said. “Yes!”
The other girls, eyes wide, echoed the same sentiment, looking at each other with anticipation.
“We don’t have time to select outfits or make alterations,” Dana explained, “so I checked on my way in and saw pastel Fair Isle sweaters in the Junior Department. They’re colorful and will draw attention for people who aren’t quite sure what the teen on their list is looking for. They’re the perfect holiday gift.”
Dana directed the girls to follow her assistant, who would take them to the stockroom and get each girl the right-sized sweater and then to Charles of the Ritz for a touch of makeup. “Meet me on the main floor at the staircase when you’re finished, and I’ll assign each of you to various departments. Ready?”
The girls left and Dana went down to the main floor, where she was approached by Helen.
“Did I just see your contestants walking into the store a few minutes ago?” Helen asked.
“Yes. They’re going to be modeling sweaters this afternoon. Bob thought Saturday modeling would be a good idea, and I wanted to take advantage of the holidays. And remember—they’re no longer contestants. They’re the Teen Advisory Board now.”
Helen’s voice remained steady, but it was obvious that she was displeased. “Am I going to be consulted about
anything
that affects my position as junior buyer?” she asked curtly. “Or is everything decided by you and Bob these days?”
“Of course I want your input!” Dana responded, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible. “That’s why the girls will be reporting to you monthly.”
“I thought I made my position perfectly clear last week,” Helen shot back. “I’m simply not interested. In fact, I think I’ll have a talk with Bob right now. Since you’re on the selling floor, maybe I have a chance of getting in to see him more quickly this time.”
Helen turned abruptly and left.
Dana was past being intimidated by Helen, although she hoped she would be able to work with the junior buyer in a constructive manner. Helen had been Dana’s friend for many years, and she had taught her many valuable lessons about working at B. Altman. Without the expertise of Helen Kavanagh, the Junior Department wouldn’t have become the success that it was, and Dana sincerely wished to work with a colleague possessing such insight.
When the girls arrived, Dana saw immediately that the Fair Isle sweaters had been the right choice. The girls looked great.
“Robin, I want you to model on the fifth floor, focusing on the Trim-the-Tree Shop and the Book Shop,” Dana said. “Kim, I’m assigning you to Charleston Garden, but it won’t get busy until about twelve-thirty, so start by covering the Sporting Goods section, the Toy Fair, and the World of Games, also on eight. Lisa, the main floor is yours. Try to catch people’s eye as soon as they walk in. Kate, I’d like you to cover the fourth floor, especially the Waterford and Wedgwood Galleries and the Silver Shop. They’ll be buzzing with gift buyers. And we can’t forget the Children’s Department on two. Mari, will you model there, please? Also, don’t forget to stop into the Charles of the Ritz salon.”
Dana proudly watched as the girls spread out through the store. Just a few days ago, Kim Sullivan was slated to be the sole winner of the contest. Because of Dana’s ingenuity, the other four girls, who might otherwise be feeling more than a little despondent in the aftermath of the Sugar Plum Ball, were walking around with pride and self-esteem. And what they were doing was going to be great for the store as well. Dana had no doubt that they would be an integral part in attracting the growing youth market, and the beauty of it was that she would not have to utter the word “Biba” even once.
Dana had seen what was needed and gone after it. She now realized, probably as a result of her talks with Kim, that this was an important and necessary part of the narrative of her life.
B
rett and Janice walked down the jetway to the concourse leading to terminal two at San Francisco International Airport. Brett felt elated to hold Janice’s hand in public. It represented enormous freedom compared to the secrecy that had forced him to furtively glance over his shoulder when going to Janice’s apartment in Greenwich Village during the past several days. For Brett, this new sense of liberty also reinforced Janice’s belief that he had become horribly set in his ways. While he had always felt quite comfortable with the well-ordered routines of his life in New York City, he realized more and more each day that he had always suppressed a certain restlessness in his spirit. Thoughts of how he would approach the months and years ahead no longer tried to push their way into his thinking. He was far too happy now to spend time considering the repercussions of his actions. He would, as did Janice, live in the moment. The future would take care of itself.
He checked at the information desk in the terminal to see if Thomas Parks had arrived from Seattle. Parks was Brett’s client, the owner of the insurance building in lower Manhattan. Brett and Richard had scheduled a brief, on-the-fly meeting with their client at the airport before Parks caught a connecting flight to Los Angeles. Parks needed to sign several papers authorizing actions to be taken by Davis, Konen and Wright, including the right to have his employees deposed in a new jurisdiction. Richard had also urged the meeting since he believed it was good policy to press the flesh, as the old saying went, with one of the firm’s biggest clients. The quantum legal assessment made by the firm indicated that this new phase of the case had a high percentage of being successfully litigated, but there were never any guarantees in the courtroom. Clients needed reassurance before incurring additional—and very large—legal fees. Parks had the opportunity to drop the suit against the contractor when the judge ordered a change in jurisdiction, but he decided to press on despite the cost. Part of Brett’s duty was to keep his client apprised of their ongoing strategy and hopeful of the outcome.
Parks’ plane had not arrived due to bad weather in the Seattle area—the almost constant rains of the northwest—and Brett and Janice were informed that his flight was experiencing a two-hour delay.
“I guess we’re stuck here for a few hours,” Brett said. “I’m famished. Want to grab a bite to eat?”
“Absolutely,” Janice answered. “The stewardess said that our in-flight meal was beef Wellington, but it tasted like cardboard. I couldn’t eat it.”
“I know a place in terminal one. Good local cuisine. Why don’t we go in and relax? I’ve asked the information booth to page us when Parks’ flight arrives.”
Janice kissed Brett on the lips. “Relaxation. I want you to get used to that concept, which means far more than your precious honey buns. I’m your new morning treat from now on.”
“I like the sound of that very much.”
The two kissed again before heading to the restaurant.
D
ana’s brother had to look twice to make sure he was seeing clearly, but he was. He sat down in one of the plastic seats in terminal one of San Francisco International Airport, his mind reeling. What should he do? Who should he tell?
Matthew had left his parents’ home at Macy Channel on Saturday morning to board a nonstop eleven o’clock flight to San Francisco in order to catch a connecting flight to Hawaii. With three hours to kill before he left for the islands, he sat and read for a while, wandered through the terminals to do some shopping, and then decided to have lunch. He hated airline food, and his appetite was still on New York time. He settled on a gourmet deli specializing in Napa Valley cuisine and walked to the restaurant’s entrance. That’s when he stopped dead in his tracks before moving away from the door. Brett and Janice were sitting in a dimly-lit booth against the far wall of the restaurant. His first thought was to walk in and tell Brett hi—”What a coincidence! Are you two on a business trip?”—but he quickly checked the impulse when he saw Brett slip to Janice’s side in the curved leather booth, raise a glass of wine, and kiss her on the lips.
He had retreated to the seat in the terminal to collect his thoughts. Several times he started to get up in order to walk to a bank of pay telephones on the far side of the terminal, but each time he sat down again. How could he break the news to his sister? Would she think it was some crazy joke? No. Dana knew Matthew’s humor wasn’t so coarse, but he would still sound incredulous. “Hi, Dana, and guess what? Your husband is making time with that floozy from your party.” He considered calling his mother for advice on exactly what to say, but he felt that it might be a dangerous move. He knew that his mother had a hands-on personality, and whatever was transpiring in the restaurant constituted a highly personal matter between Dana and her husband. What Dana chose to disclose to the rest of the family was her business and no one else’s.
Thoughts sprang into Matthew’s mind like lightning flashes. Was Brett tipsy and simply flirting with Janice? Matthew himself had fallen prey to her beguiling charms just a few days earlier. His assumption that Brett was having an affair might be totally off the mark even though there could be no justification for his giving Janice an overtly romantic kiss. A kiss and an affair were two different things. The more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself to tell no one, not even Dana. He ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair, unable to exorcise the image of Janice and Brett from his mind.
That’s when he remembered Janice’s call to him Friday morning, and immediately everything fell into place. She told Matthew that she’d been given a lot of last-minute work by the firm and that she would be busy for quite some time. Neither Brett nor Janice had mentioned anything about a business trip to the West Coast—nor had Dana or their parents, for that matter—and that was strange in itself. The trip had obviously come up at the last minute. Matthew was convinced that Janice had genuinely planned on spending time with him, and she could have easily rescheduled her trip to Hawaii or their drive up to New England. But she hadn’t, and there could be only one reason why. She’d never really been interested in him in the first place. Her sights were set elsewhere, and she had merely been using Matthew as a decoy—a “beard” in the parlance of affairs, someone to throw one’s spouse off the trail.
Matthew was tempted to walk in and confront Brett, not with anger, but with the simple knowledge that he was aware of what was going on. Matthew quickly realized that Brett, a shrewd lawyer, would try to explain away the situation.
Matthew felt intense anger rise in his chest, and he knew that he would have to tell his sister. But he would get some insurance just in case Brett or Janice attempted to either deny what he was seeing—”You must have been looking at the wrong table, Matthew”—or offer up some implausible explanation. Matthew reached into his leather carry-on bag and pulled out his 35mm Nikon, loaded it, and attached a zoom lens. He got up and walked to the side of the restaurant, which was separated from the terminal by a trellis half-wall, on top of which sat tall, lush ferns. Brett and Janice were still there. Good. He would obtain indisputable proof with a few careful shutter clicks. He adjusted the camera’s setting for the dim light, turned the f-stop ring to bring the lens into focus, and began to shoot, the ferns offering him ample cover. The couple kissed each other every minute or two, and the waiter had brought them a new bottle of wine. Matthew captured every detail on film—every kiss and laugh. There could be no doubt: his brother-in-law was having an affair.