Fatshionista (18 page)

Too bad I already
had everything packed up and the fake meeting now ahead of me. All I wanted to
do was flop back into my chair and compose the scathing speech I was going to
march into Marta’s office on Tuesday and throw down on her. For two cents, I
would quit today and spare myself any more worry and stress about this place.

I started down
the hall to the elevators, mentally adding up the money in my savings, 401K,
IRA, and money market accounts. I had started out poor in this world, but
saving every penny and the recent windfall of blog advertising over the last
two years had allowed me to build up quite a nest egg. Of course, the original
plan had been to buy a little place here and then use the rest to buy a place
in Delhi. I had been saying for years that I would try and go back on a more
permanent basis. My exchange family that I lived with while studying there was
really the only family I had. They had practically adopted me. But the once a
year that I was able to make it back just wasn’t enough for them or me.

My phone beeped
with a text as I stepped on to the elevator. I couldn’t stop the grin that took
over my whole face when I saw it was Daniel. I hadn’t heard from him since the
text yesterday about the unexpected guest.

“Have to
reschedule; guest still in town. Family friend, so Mother is pulling strings
all the way from India. Can you meet Tuesday at 2:00?”

I frowned when I
read the part about his mother being involved. Surely his family knew his
situation. I shuddered to think he was stuck playing tour guide to some woman
his family had picked out for him. I knew a lot of friends in New York whose
parents were pressuring them to marry someone they had picked out. He was a big
boy; whatever it was, I was sure he could handle it.

I sent him one
back saying tomorrow was fine and briefly considered sending one to Scarlett to
let her know the meeting was off, but decided against it. Let her head all the
way uptown and find out Daniel wasn’t around. She could add that to the list of
things she was going to complain to Marta about tomorrow. And speaking of
Marta, if she wanted Scarlett to take over and do my job, then she was going to
have to tell me that to my face.

****

“I want Scarlett
to take over your role here at the company, and I would like for you to
consider a different set of responsibilities.” Marta never bothered with small
talk. She said this before I even got my butt into the chair on Tuesday
morning.

I settled into
the seat and took a deep breath while mentally rehearsing the major drama I was
getting ready to unleash on this woman. I always knew that if I were going to
go down, I would go down swinging. If she had the balls to up and fire me and
replace me with Scarlett, then she was going to have to call security and get
them to haul my fat ass out of here, kicking and screaming. I was going to make
such a scene that twenty years from now people would still be talking about
that girl they fired that had to be dragged out of the building by force.

“Marta, I don’t
understand what you want me to do. What other job is there for me to do here? I
started at the bottom; I have done everything you have ever asked of me. If
there are ‘different responsibilities’ you want me to take on, I can only
assume that would be working my way back down to the bottom.”

“Millicent, if
you would give me a moment to explain, I will be more than pleased to share
with you what I meant. Scarlett coming on board has made me reevaluate how we
have our resources aligned, and I plan on announcing some changes in our staff
meeting Thursday. Since these changes directly impact you and your role at this
company, I wanted to do you the courtesy of having a conversation with you
prior to the announcement so you would be prepared.”

Prepared for what?
Did she honestly think if she was demoting me or, God forbid, firing me that I
would stick around and see what everyone had to say about that on Thursday? At
least she admitted Scarlett was involved in this. I was starting to feel the
heat come up from my chest and my face get flushed. I didn’t deal well with
confrontation, but I had learned how to handle it over the years. The one thing
I couldn’t do was control the flush that came over me when I get pissed off.

“Millicent, do
you remember the first piece of advice I gave you when I hired you on as an
intern?”

Good Lord, there
were so many. She even had me carry a notebook around for the first year so
when she said something she deemed important, I could write it down. But I
never forgot the first thing she told me to write in that book. I still had the
book on my shelf in my office—a reminder of how far I had come since the
first day here.

“You told me I
needed to lose weight, that no one in your industry would ever care to seek
advice or take advice from a fat girl. You said that the message it sent to
people was if I couldn’t manage something as simple as what went into my mouth,
how could I possibly manage their show.” Yep, it was a red-letter start to my
first day at this company. I had always been okay with my size. Don’t get me
wrong, nobody
loved
being overweight, but I decided that of all the bad
things in the world I could be—mean, stingy, cold-hearted, a liar, a
cheat, a thief, a killer—that maybe being fat wasn’t the worst thing.

I had tried to
lose weight as soon as I started here. I would starve myself and exercise until
I collapsed in the bed at night so tired and hungry that I could barely get up
in the morning
to do my job
! The very reason I was killing myself was
jeopardized because I had no energy left to do it!

So I stopped
being crazy and started being more careful about what I ate—more fruits,
vegetable, lean meats—and I would walk everywhere I could instead of taking
the subway or the bus. I was fit, I was healthy, I was just also a size
sixteen. But I was okay with that, and I was okay that Marta wasn’t. She never
mentioned it again after that first day…until today.

“Yes, that is
correct. And while I still feel like that was excellent advice to give and that
it is an absolutely true statement, I have also recognized that it has never
been an obstacle to your career. You have actually turned it into an asset.”

Whoa, where was
this going? “An asset?”

“Yes. You have
become an invaluable asset to this company, not just because of the quality of
your work, which you know is outstanding, but also because of how you present
yourself to the world and in particular to our clients. You bring a unique
perspective into this industry because you have all the knowledge and the know-how
of a seasoned, fashion-savvy woman, but you have the body of every other woman
in America. Designers know that your viewpoint is the best of both worlds; you
give your opinion based on who you are as a producer and who you are as the
everyday woman.”

Right…so now
being fat was good because I looked like a typical American woman? I was so
confused right now. And nervous as hell, and when I got nervous, the Chatty
Cathy doll always tried to rear her ugly head. I had her by a chokehold, but
she was able to squeak out, “Marta, if you are firing me, just please go ahead
and fire me. This whole talk about my first day and how I never lost weight, if
this is just build-up to saying that this is no longer the right place for me,  please
come out and say it.”

Marta’s eyes
widened during my little outburst. Did I mention that when Chatty Cathy got
going, the words came out really fast and got louder toward the end to the
point that I was practically shouting? Yeah, so that happened.

Marta leaned back
in her chair and stared at me as if I had sprouted a second head. Maybe she was
mad because I had beaten her to the punch. She leaned forward over the desk and,
wonder of wonders…she smiled. And not her fake model smile, but a real smile.

“Millicent, I am
not firing you, you silly, ridiculous girl.” Okay, the smile was now confusing
me. But I stayed silent until she finished. “I hired Scarlett so she could
bring in more business and help us expand into the other areas of production
where we’ve been lacking in the past. Our forte has always been fashion shows,
but they have become highly competitive, and the private parties and individual
showcases are a much bigger part of our industry than when I began.”

Why were we
talking about Scarlett again? God, I was so confused. I felt like my head was
spinning, but thankfully I was able to keep the strangle hold on Chatty Cathy.

“I want to ensure
that there is plenty of business coming in the door. I know we have kept the
existing clients because of your expertise in handling both them and their
shows, and I am hoping you will mentor Scarlett and show her how she, too, can
be successful. It will be harder for her, as she is much prettier and thinner.
She won’t have your bourgeois charm, so you’ll have try and work with what she
can bring to the table.”

Poor Scarlett, at
such a disadvantage because she was thinner and prettier than me. Wait, when
did this become about Scarlett again? And why was I teaching her how to do my
job? My color was coming back up, and the muzzle was getting ready to fly off.

“Before you jump
to the conclusions that, if your red chest and flushed face are any indication
you are well on your way to making, let me say there is very good reason why I
need you to train Scarlett to do your job.”

And the dramatic pause.
Come on, woman, you’re killing me over here.

“Scarlett needs
to be able to take over for you because I want you to take over for me. I am
getting old, and I would like to spend the last years of my life in France with
the few friends I’ve not alienated. So, that is what I’m announcing on
Thursday, that you will succeed me as head of this company.”

I was shocked. I
was stunned. I just sat there. It took me a minute to realize that not only had
I mentally slammed Cathy’s mouth shut, I apparently had at some point put my
hands over my own mouth. So Marta said she wanted me to head her company and I
was sitting here beet red with both hands slapped over my mouth. Wow, what a
dignified way to handle this conversation. Kudos, Millie.

“Millicent, you
may remove your hands and please let me know what you think about this. If you
are not onboard with these changes, you must let me know now. I didn’t really
have a Plan B, but I will certainly develop one if you decide this is not
something you are interested in pursuing.”

Honestly, I had
no idea. I had never thought the woman would quit, or even die. I never
imagined I could make it any higher up the ladder than assistant producer. It
was completely outside the realm of my imagination to even consider running
this company. Marta kept staring at me, waiting for me to say something, but I
had no idea what to say. I always thought she hated me. I knew she thought I
did good work, and I knew that she knew she couldn’t run this place without me,
but to be willing to turn it all over to me? I didn’t know what to say.

“When do I need
to let you know my decision?” I had to have some time to think about this. If I
took this job, it would mean writing would fall to the wayside; there was no
way I could run this company and continue to blog. Could I give up on that
dream for something I never imagined I could have? Definitely needed some time
to think about all of this.

“I can give you
until Wednesday evening. I will have to know something before the meeting on Thursday,
and your answer might require me to consider other alternatives…so yes,
Wednesday evening by five.”

“Thank you.” I
wanted to say so much more, something along the lines of Sally Fields and “You
like me, you really like me,” but I decided the best thing I could do was get
out of this office and go figure out what the hell I was going to do with the
rest of my life.

My 2:00 meeting
with Daniel started as kind of a blur. I was still reeling from the
conversation with Marta, and I couldn’t for the life of me wrap my brain around
what life would be like if I was the one in charge of that company. For years I
had held in all the radical ideas I had, only floating the easy wins that I
knew Marta would be on board with; I couldn’t imagine being able to steer this
company in the direction I thought it should head in.

About halfway
through my presentation, Daniel abruptly stopped me. “Millie, can I please have
a word with you in private?” I looked around the workroom and looked at the two
seamstresses. He had never asked that we speak away from his team before, so I
wasn’t sure what this meant. I hoped this wasn’t another bomb that was going to
land on my head.

“Um, sure. Where
would you like to talk?” The workspace was just one giant room filled with
tables, fabric, and dress forms.

“Why don’t we
head downstairs and grab a cup of tea at the coffee shop?” he was already gathering
up my papers and nudging me toward the door.

“I hope your plan
doesn’t consist of me dropping anything else on my chest, ‘cause I plan on
getting a water, so I’ll be safe.” Humor was always my go-to strategy when I was
nervous, and his sudden need for some alone time have me very, very nervous.

He didn’t even
crack a smile. “Hmmm, yes, of course.” In fact, I didn’t even think he had heard
what I said.