He looks like he’s going to be sick. “There have been some initiatives brought to the board’s attention. They were just concerned about our fabric being used for inferior quality products. We don’t want just anyone having Lavin quality goods.”
Casey squeezes his arm conspiratorially. “Well, it’s not like the fabric is what makes Lavin clothes so special. I’m sure other brands source fabric from the same places you do. What makes Lavin clothes so special is because they’re designed by Andre, of course.”
“And his fabulous team.” She adds the last part in a loud voice that has several of the designers nearby grinning.
Paul is nodding along to every word she’s saying now. “Green initiatives really are so important, aren’t they? You know, the other board members can be a little slow to move with the times.”
Casey pats his arm. “I’m sure you can convince them to do what’s right. They’ll listen to you, won’t they?”
Paul beams. “Well, I am the Chairman.”
As they walk away, I can hear Casey’s laughter. “I knew it. I could tell when I met you that you were a man of action.”
Jason leans over. “Holy shit, did she just get your recycling plan on the board agenda? The woman is more dangerous than I thought.”
16
* * *
I splash water on my face and pat my skin dry with a paper towel. Talking for so long left my voice creaky and has given me a slight headache. Being the center of attention isn’t my favorite thing but when Andre told me a board member was here, I knew this was a chance I wouldn’t get again.
Paul actually turned out to be a nice man. A little stodgy and more moved by stock prices than people, but not a complete monster the way I’d imagined the board members must be. I mean, really? Who is against recycling? I figured most of them just hadn’t thought about all of the positive sides to doing it.
I only wish I could have spent more time watching how Andre’s company works but he had to get to his board meeting. And I’ve already been gone longer than I expected.
The door swings open behind me. An older woman enters and places her handbag on the counter next to mine. Her dark hair doesn’t have a single strand of gray and her forehead is unlined. If I had to guess her age I would say she’s one of those women who refuses to age past forty-five.
“So, you’re the young woman causing so much commotion on the design floor today.”
“I suppose I am. Hello.” I’m not sure what she means about commotion but perhaps she’s one of the designers I didn’t get to meet. We did spend more than an hour down there talking to everyone. An unexpected interruption like that is probably a manager’s nightmare.
“I apologize if your designers didn’t get all their work done today. I was just so excited to see how they do it all.”
I move over slightly and turn on the faucet. Hopefully that will keep us from having to blunder through any more polite conversation.
“My son seems to be quite taken with you.”
I shut off the water.
My son. This cold, brittle woman is Andre’s mother?
“It’s not that I don’t understand the allure. I once had a dalliance with the family gardener. He was a strapping man and quite a pleasure.” The older woman meets my eyes in the mirror as she reapplies her lipstick. “But I’d already married and given my husband two sons. It was harmless and just as forgettable. My son hasn’t yet done his duty.”
Her eyes roam over my fitted skirt and blouse. She purses her lips as if unimpressed. A hot wave of embarrassment brings tears to my eyes.
The other woman pats my hand, her touch as cold as her eyes. “It’s nothing personal, my dear. I’m sure you’re a lovely young woman, but my son has responsibilities you can’t begin to imagine. He needs someone appropriate for a man of his position. He’ll be thirty soon and he’s still unmarried. He needs to focus on his future.”
I nod blindly although a petty part of me wants to tell her that he’s only twenty-eight. That he’s a grown man and can decide for himself what he wants. But I don’t bother because in the end, none of it matters.
Andre and I… well, there is no Andre and I.
All we are is a cata
strophe waiting to happen. Which is why we agreed to keep things professional in the first place.
“You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Lavin. I’m just an employee of his marketing firm. Your son is a very nice man who agreed to give me a tour of the design floor today. I’m sure that once the marketing campaign is over I won’t see him again.” It hurts just to say the words but I need to hear them just as much as she does.
She drops her lipstick back into her bag and snaps it shut. “You’re a sweet girl. You’ve eased a mother’s heart today.”