By the time the Monique Lhuilier Cap-Sleeve lace cocktail dress in a floral white and azalea pattern, was brought out for a Sunday brunch, Samantha had given up looking at price tags. Entire outfits along with the accessories were carefully placed in black garment bags or were placed into the new Louis Vuitton suitcases Marlene had delivered. Each item had been tagged with its corresponding number so that she would know what to wear when.
“More detailed than my first time away at camp when I was eight,” Samantha joked.
Raymond’s assistants smiled politely. Marlene supervised everything with the attention to detail of a surgical team nurse. She had even smiled at Samantha when she modeled the blue Oscar de la Renta gown. She knew it was silly, but it made Samantha feel better when Marlene was happy with her.
What about me makes them think I have no idea how to dress myself?
But she let it go. Samantha reminded herself to stay focused on the fun and on not disappointing Mr. Putnam. She would help him close this deal with efficiency and skill. And she’d be able to pitch him her new ideas for ancestry testing that she thought would be cutting edge and allow Blake Genetics to capitalize on the market. Samantha was on her third glass of champagne and anything seemed possible.
“Lunch is served, Samantha,” Marlene said.
Before Samantha followed Marlene, she grabbed Raymond.
“I know you didn’t select them so it’s probably against the rules, but I love those boyfriend jeans over there. With a simple white blouse? Could we throw that in?” she asked.
“He wanted all fitted clothing, dear,” Raymond said. “But you know what they say about rules,” he winked. “Who doesn’t take a pair of jeans for the weekend? You’ll look adorable. Wear them with the gray booties, ok? Our little secret!”
After lunch of a fancy green leaf salad with chilled shrimp, avocado and artichokes, Marlene announced it was time for her hair and makeup lesson. Samantha, still a bit tipsy from the champagne and lack of bread during the meal dreaded the thought of spending time with Judy. She’d been doing her own make up since high school.
“Really? Still frowning?” Marlene said. “If you don’t want to attend this business meeting with Mr. Putnam, I can still get someone else,” Marlene looked at her watch. “There were five other women I had selected as candidates for this assignment. You weren’t even on my radar. For some reason Mr. Putnam wanted your name added.”
Mr. Putnam wanted me added, Samantha thought, a small smile crossing her face as Marlene confirmed what Mr. Putnam had said in his office. “No, I want to attend the negotiations. It’s just a makeup lesson seems over the top, but I’m sure Judy can teach me a few tricks of the trade. This will be great.”
Marlene stood up from the table. “Good. I don’t want to have to call candidate number two, even though she is your same size and coloring. I’m glad we have an understanding. You did look simply smashing in that blue Oscar de la Renta ball gown.”
Samantha stood up slowly. She briefly wondered what other woman from the office they had considered, but heard Marlene’s message loud and clear: she was replaceable.
“I understand everything. I will make you proud,” she said.
She didn’t need Marlene changing her mind, calling Mr. Putnam and sending for her replacement. Somehow the thought of Raymond plying some unknown woman with her figure, coloring and career aspiration with champagne and an encouraging “dear,” was almost as irritating as losing out this career opportunity.
“Judy,” she said. “What do you suggest for my day makeup?”
Samantha climbed up onto the barstool seat Marlene indicated.
“You aren’t wearing very much,” Judy said, wiping at Samantha’s face after she’d climbed up onto the barstool.
“No, I don’t like a lot of makeup and what I do wear is organic, is that what you use?” Samantha asked.
“No, I use what works. It’s all about improving your appearance, not hugging trees,” Judy said, grinning widely.
Samantha bit her tongue, hoping her makeup transformation would be quick, and knowing she could scrub it all off once she was out of here, and away from Marlene, of course.
Then a thought stopped her cold. What if Marlene were coming on this business trip? That would make sense. She was Mr. Putnam’s PA. Perfectly normal for her to come. That thought made her lunch swirl uncomfortable in her stomach along with her champagne. Somehow Mr. Putnam seemed less intimidating than Marlene, but now she could be suffering their aloof superiority in stereo.
She wondered how to ask the question without appearing to care about the answer while Judy created her “daytime look,” took a photo, and then scrubbed Samantha’s face. Next she created the “evening look” and then the “Main Event” look. Each time she took a photo, she’d show it to Marlene who would approve it or not. Samantha realized they were forwarding the photos to someone.
“Where are you sending those photos?” Samantha asked.
“Mr. Putnam needs to approve each transformation,” Marlene said evenly, not even looking at her.
Good thing because her mouth was hanging open. She snapped it shut. She was his employee, not his Barbie.
Control freak
, she thought, annoyed.
He’s actually trying to turn me into someone else. Her newly manicured nails curled into her palms. Well, you can change the outside, Mr. Putnam, but not the inside.
“Another champagne, please,” she said, handing Marlene her empty glass.
“You’ve had enough. You can hardly arrive staggering about,” she said, and nodded at the reply that came through on the tablet. “We are cleared,” she told Judy. “It’s 2:15. The car’s due back soon, and we are on a tight schedule.”
“Of course,” Judy murmured as she scrubbed Samantha’s face one last time, applied the “travel day look” snapped a photo and smiled.
“Time to get changed!” Raymond said clapping his hands together and smiling.
Samantha jumped out of the makeup chair and hurried over to his side of the store.
“Calling Audrey Hepburn,” Raymond sang out. “Try not to get any makeup on the black dress dear.”
As Samantha changed into the new linen dress, new shoes and slipped the pearl earrings into her ears she looked at herself in the mirror. A stranger stared back at her.
Be strong
, she told her reflection.
This is an odd way to begin a working weekend, but then again, it would be a great story to tell her friends. And she loved all the clothes, all of them. Even the dresses. She wondered when would be the best time to pitch her idea about new ancestry testing protocols to Mr. Putman. In the car? After dinner? Maybe she should wait until Saturday afternoon after he had seen more of her knowledge and negotiating skills.
“Hurry up, Samantha, I need to do your hair,” Judy said, breaking the spell.
Samantha hurried out of the dressing room, with Raymond encouraging her along the way, and popped back into the makeup chair. Judy brushed her hair and secured it in a long ponytail, tied with her new Chanel scarf. Next came a furious blast of hairspray, leaving Samantha coughing in the chair.
“Effortless beauty,” Raymond said, without a trace of sarcasm. “You’re perfect now! I’ve placed all of your old things in a bag and Marlene will have them dry cleaned and waiting for you upon your return. You’ll find some beautiful Hanky Panky underwear in your suitcase and some other fun underlings I picked out for you. Do have a fabulous time, hope to see you again dear,” Raymond added, kissing her on both cheeks before helping her from the barstool as Judy, Marlene, Raymond and the driver all helped carry Samantha’s new luggage to the car.
Samantha followed behind, still dazed, a little drunk, but all in all, happy. She’d go on this business trip, help her boss, enjoy her new clothes and maybe not hate the makeup and pitch her ancestry ideas to Mr. Putnam. It would all work out, perfectly she thought, waving at Raymond.
She slipped inside the already cool town car. Instantly they were speeding back to Blake Genetics. Samantha still didn’t know where the business meeting was being held, but she was quite confident she’d be the best-dressed woman in the room.
C
rossing through the
lobby behind Marlene, Samantha wondered what would happen next. She knew she had to be in Mr. Putnam’s office at 3 p.m. sharp. It was 2:45 p.m., so she’d have time to grab her purse and her phone.
At the elevator bank, Marlene pushed the express button up to the suite.
“I need to go to my desk, grab my purse and my phone,” Samantha said. “I’ll meet you up there.”
“I’ve taken the liberty of replacing your purse with a black Gucci tote, just to fit in with the rest of the weekend’s attire. All of your belongings as well as your telephone are inside of the bag, up in the suite,” Marlene said as the executive suite elevator doors opened.
The silence in the elevator made Samantha’s skin crawl. What kind of cold, control freaks were these people? Samantha thought again, but since her first designer bag awaited her as the elevator doors opened, she would let it go. Just think of the day as being full of surprises, she sternly told herself. Each moment required a smile and leap of faith. And, she wished, more champagne.
The women stepped into the stark white executive floor, both of them wearing black, a perfect, and probably planned, contrast to the environment, Samantha realized. She stifled a grin remembering how her colleagues all joked that the only colors Blake Genetics acknowledged were white, black and khaki. All new employees picked up on the uniform the day they finally made it as far as their first face-to-face interview.
“Do you need to use the ladies’ room?” Marlene asked, crossing the lobby briskly and then stationing herself behind her pristine white command center. She handed Samantha her new designer bag.
“Thank you. This is lovely. And I will use the restroom.”
Samantha cringed at how she was starting to sound as formal and cool as they were. Marlene pushed a button at her desk and a white door opened to the right of the elevators. “Through there,” Marlene said and Samantha hurried inside.
This is business
Pretty Woman
, Samantha told herself, smiling at her own reflection. Sure, she had more makeup on than usual, but she had to admit, she looked good. She didn’t look like a hooker and she never had been a hooker like Julia Roberts’ character, and she wasn’t going to let Mr. Putnam get any ideas like that. She was just a right-out-of-college over-achiever who happened to catch the eye of the boss with her presentation skills. She should be proud of herself, she thought. So why did she feel so on edge, so uncomfortable?
She opened her new purse and found brand new Valentino sunglasses, black, with tiny V’s made of diamonds. Now accustomed to all of this outlandish gifting, she just shrugged, put the sunglasses back inside the purse and told herself she was ready to face Mr. Putnam. Maybe this was when she could ask the important questions, questions such as where were they headed and who were they meeting with, for starters.
As she crossed back to Marlene’s desk, Samantha realized she’d left her laptop at her desk. She’d need it for the weekend.
“I….”
“Here, dear,” Marlene said, pointing to what appeared to be a laptop, in a new black leather Coach satchel.
“Thank you,” Samantha said.
“He will see you now,” Marlene said, pushing the button that caused Mr. Putnam’s door to swing open. Samantha glanced at her new Platinum Cartier watch: precisely three o’clock.
“Are you coming too?” Samantha asked.
“No dear. Remember, this is your time to shine. You have everything you need,” Marlene said.
Samantha smiled at Marlene and noticed a slight smile back before she walked back into the sterile whiteness of Mr. Putnam’s office. The door closed behind her. But, she was alone in the large office. He was nowhere to be seen. Could Marlene have made an error? Samantha checked her watch and sighed with relief. She was on time. And suddenly, there he was, appearing as if by magic from a concealed door on the opposite wall.
Samantha felt her mouth completely dry up. Quite a feat after all the champagne she’d downed as well as the water and coffee hoping to sober her up to handle any meetings this afternoon. He glanced at his watch.
“Good. Right on time,” he said. “I like that outfit. Nice choice.”
“Um, thanks,” Samantha said, unsure of the correct answer in such a situation. There had been no ‘choice’ about any of it. He’d approved all of the outfits before Raymond could even show them to her.
Control freak.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Samantha, since we are spending the weekend together, it would be appropriate for you to call me Blake.”
She stared into his blue eyes. He was gorgeous. Really gorgeous. She felt dizzy. She was drowning in blue.
“That is what business associates do,” he said.
“Of course, Blake,” she said feeling bold and far older than twenty three.
They were business associates.
“Come,” he said, opening the door he’d just emerged from and she followed him out the door.
Blinding sunlight. They were outside. The top of the Blake Genetics building. It was terrifying and unexpected, and Samantha fumbled around in her new purse, trying to find her new sunglasses as she hurried to keep up with Blake, who had just turned a corner in front of her. She broke out in cold sweat and could barely catch her breath. Samantha’s fear of heights was well known – why wasn’t that in his precious file on her? What was he trying to do? Kill her after dressing her like she was a cover model for
Town and Country
?
Trying not to look at the horizon and only the glare off the ground under her feet, Samantha rounded the corner. She heard the whoosh of something mechanical. She looked up and spotted Blake already climbing into a white helicopter, emblazoned with Blake Genetics on the side.
Samantha froze against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. They were traveling in a helicopter? A tiny, white tin can with a propeller on top? She didn’t even know the company had a helicopter. No way was she getting in that thing. She’d take a cab. She’d drive herself and meet him there. Her luggage alone wouldn’t allow that hunk of metal to get off the ground.