Love California Box Set: Books 1-3 (Love California Series Collection)

by Jan Moran

  It was true. Verena had always found a way to work around problems, mostly through sheer determination and creative thinking. But this time the financial markets were different and solutions eluded her.

  “I can advise you, but you have to make the decisions.” Scarlett pursed her lips. “It’s going to get worse, Verena. The word out of the financial circles in New York say this could be the worst recession since the Great Depression. Can you make some cuts?”

  “I terminated our newest hires, but our core employees are necessary. And they’re loyal. They’ve been with us for years. I know their families, their children. Besides, we’re booked solid.”

  Scarlett leaned across the desk. “Can you halt the Asian launch?”

  “It’s already in motion.” Verena pressed her fingertips to her temples. “The money has already been spent on product. Inventories have already shipped, so we must support it in store. That’s the only way we can recoup the investment.”

  “Then you have no choice. It’s this or bankruptcy. The Asian launch was a big gamble.”

  “And it’s the right one. But we expected to have a line of credit at the bank to handle it.” Verena blew out a breath of exasperation. “Why is Roper doing this?”

  “He makes the terms,” Scarlett replied. “He knows the financial markets and knows it’s tough out there. Some investors—the unscrupulous ones—go in for the kill when you’re at their mercy. Believe me, it could be a lot worse.”

  “Don’t know how.”

  “Listen, you must be careful, Verena. You can’t deviate one iota from these restrictive financial covenants. You can be extremely profitable, but if you don’t hit their mark for whatever reason, Herringbone can call the shots. You can bet that Roper will conduct regular reviews, beginning immediately.”

  A chime sounded on Scarlett’s computer. “Here’s another email.” She squinted at the screen.

  “What does it say?”

  “They want Jimmy Don to run product development. They think the costs are too high in that area.” She swiveled the computer screen. “And here’s his very healthy salary requirement.”

  “That’s impossible, he has no idea how to do that. Besides that’s my job.” Verena sprang from her chair and began to pace the office. “He’s a disaster in the office. He’s creepy. None of the women like him, or the way he looks at them. He’s disrespectful, he’s uncouth, he’s—”

  “Hired, if you want their money.” Scarlett shook her head. “This is terrible, I know. Start a file on his behavior immediately.”

  Verena felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. She could hardly breathe. Crossing her arms, she said, “I can’t agree to this.”

  “Okay, here goes.” Scarlett tapped out an email reply. Thirty seconds later, the response came back. Scarlett lifted her gaze and shook her head.

  Verena said nothing. She picked up her purse and stormed from the office.

  “I didn’t even say good-bye to Scarlett,” Verena said. She had just arrived home and found Mia clipping roses in the backyard garden. “This rotten deal isn’t her fault.”

  Mia rested the basket of cut roses on the patio table under the awning and sat down. “Scarlett understands, Verena. You’ve been under so much pressure since your parents died. I wasn’t well enough to help you with the business then, and I’ve always regretted that.” Mia shook her head. “You were so competent that I found you didn’t need me much. Still, maybe I should’ve been there more for you.”

  “You have been.” Verena couldn’t have made it without Mia’s emotional support. After her parents died and before the doctor would release Mia to fly, they had spoken every day on the phone, sometimes for hours. She had often gone to sleep listening to Mia’s soothing voice over the phone.

  Mia placed a hand on her shoulder and looked directly into her eyes. “I have some money set aside in Switzerland, my dear. It was for Anika and Bella’s college fund. It’s not much, but we can put it into the business.”

  Verena raised her brows. “Absolutely not. Besides, it’s probably not enough to make a difference, but thank you for offering.”

  “Don’t give in to Roper yet,” Mia said, methodically stripping the excess lower leaves from the roses she had clipped. She arranged the flowers in a vase. “When do you have to provide an answer to Herringbone?”

  “Ten days.”

  “I spoke to my old friend in Paris, Henri Becaud.”

  Henri was the managing director of Rose Beauté. She remembered him well. “He was interested in buying VSS two years ago. That’s the last time we spoke.”

  “Well, he’s willing to speak to you again.”

  “About a sale? I don’t know...” Rose Beauté was one of the largest beauty conglomerates in the world.

  “There are other options. Perhaps he’d buy a stake in the company and you could continue to run it.”

  Verena mulled this over for a moment. Mia had a point. “I can call him first thing in the morning, Paris time.” That would be about midnight in L.A. Her pulse quickened at the thought of speaking to Henri Becaud, a legend in the industry. Hope surged within her. Perhaps there was an option to Derrick’s company, after all.

  Mia frowned. “Oh, no, you can’t deal with a matter such as this on the phone. Face to face, Verena, that’s the only way.” She fluffed the flowers in the vase.

  “Then I’ll have Lacey book an overnight fight if she can. I’ll start packing.” She didn’t have a moment to waste. “I only wish you could be in that meeting, too.”

  “What a thought...” Resting her hand on Verena’ arm, Mia’s face brightened. “Why don’t we travel together?” A smile danced on her lips. “In fact, I’ll have my travel agent arrange the flights and accommodations. We can all go tomorrow.”

  12

  “THIS FIT IS magnificent,” Verena said, turning in front of the three-way mirror in Fianna’s Robertson Boulevard boutique.

  Lacey had booked the first flight she could for the next evening for her. Verena needed an appropriately chic outfit for Paris, so she’d called Fianna last night, and her friend had come to her rescue.

  Verena tamped down her anxiety. Their livelihood and the continuation of the business hinged on the Rose Beauté meeting with Henri Becaud. She’d hardly slept worrying about it.

  Verena smiled at Fianna in the mirror. When Fianna had realized her state, she had brought Verena a cup of mint tea and turned up the music. Verena was so thankful for friends like Fianna and Scarlett.

  “I knew that dress would be perfect on you, and the style is just right for your meeting in Paris.” Fianna finished zipping the black lace and silk sheath dress and fastened the hook. “Or a date with a hot chef. Have you heard from Lance?”

  “I ran into him, but we’re both so busy.” Verena told her about their chance meeting at the beach and the brunch he’d made for her. As she thought of him, heat prickled her neck and a pang of regret shot through her. Lance was the first man who’d made her tingle when she was near him, yet she came with far too much baggage and no time for a man. “I can’t even think about him right now.” That wasn’t exactly true. Thoughts of Lance encroached on her mind every day. It was all she could do to keep them at bay to focus on urgent matters.

  Fianna gazed at her with understanding. “You’ll have more time when the twins are a little older. Still, he seems nice, and the way he looked at you...”

  Verena squared her shoulders. “What should I wear over this?”

  Fianna clucked her tongue and reached for a black cape with a scarlet lining. “Try this.” She unfurled the cape and draped it around Verena’s shoulders.

  Sizing her up, Fianna added a vivid print scarf at Verena’s neck. “The ivory background in this scarf captures the highlights in your hair and softens the look. In fact, wear your hair in a French twist. You’ll have to wear your black Louboutin shoes, too, of course. The red soles will be a classy accent.” Fianna stepped back to admire her work. “It’s very Grace Kelly.�
�

  Verena wound her blond hair into a makeshift twist. “How’s this?”

  “Perfect. Elegant and modern. For stylish women at the top.” Fianna put a hand on her hip and grinned. “Like you. You’re my muse, Verena, you and Scarlett and Dahlia—and all our other girlfriends in the beauty business. You have to look glamorous on the job.”

  “What I need is a glamorous suit of armor,” Verena said, her voice edged with weary sarcasm. She’d had too much of Jimmy Don, spreadsheets, and legal documents in the past few days. “The beauty business is plenty hostile, believe me.”

  “So is fashion.” Fianna met Verena’s eyes in the mirror. “But I wouldn’t do anything else.”

  That’s what Verena liked about Fianna. Her determination, as well as her creativity. That’s what it took in their work. “This new line is your best work yet,” Verena said, glancing at several garments that hung from a rack. “But you must let me pay you for these outfits.”

  Fianna shook her head, her brilliant red mane swaying around her shoulders. “These are samples, Verena. All I ask is that you wear this dress when you meet with your buyers at the department stores. I’m finally ready.”

  “We sell into Nordstrom, Neiman Marcus, and Saks Fifth Avenue,” Verena said, ticking off her best retail chain partners. “I’ll make some introductions for you after I return.” She glanced around Fianna’s boutique, which was brimming with a sumptuous array of unique styles in the finest fabrics. “They’re good accounts, but be ready for them to ask you for an exclusive.”

  Fianna frowned. “Is that good or bad?”

  “Depends. Sometimes you have to commit to selling your line to a chain on an exclusive basis, and nowhere else. If the merchant is willing to support you with enough sales and promotion, it can work. But if not, you’ll get locked into a relationship that can’t support you.”

  “Can I limit it, say for a few years?”

  “That’s a good negotiation point. Or require a minimum annual buy. There are lots of ways to create a deal. Talk to Scarlett. She’s the best dealmaker I know.” Verena picked up another scarf and held it up against her neck. “She’s amazing at brainstorming how deals can be structured.”

  “I’ll do that before she returns to New York. What time did you say your flight is?”

  Verena checked her watch. “Ten o’clock tonight on Air France. “I’ll arrive in the morning. My meeting is the next day, and then I depart the following day.”

  “Sounds busy.” Fianna scooped up the clothes. “While you change, I’ll wrap these clothes in tissue paper so they’ll travel well. Might not prevent all the wrinkles, but proper packing can eliminate a lot of them.”

  “Thanks, it is an important trip.” Verena made her way back to the dressing room. As she changed, she thought about how critical this meeting was. If Jimmy Don’s demoralizing meetings with her employees was any indication of the tone of future dealings with Herringbone, then it was imperative to explore alternatives.

  Verena emerged from the fitting room, smoothing her crisp white shirt and slim eggplant-colored slacks. “Here’s the black dress, Fianna.” She ran her fingers over the exquisite fabric. “I love the way it feels, especially how it conforms to the body.”

  “Nothing like a silk lining—done right, that is. Here, I’ll wrap that up, too.”

  Verena opened her purse to look for her sunglasses. As she rummaged through it, a robin’s egg blue box tumbled out.

  Fianna spied it. “Oh, Tiffany. What’s inside?”

  Flustered, Verena said, “Nothing. Just something I have to return to Derrick.”

  Fianna’s eyebrows shot up. “I’d love to see what nothing from Tiffany looks like.”

  “It means nothing to me.” Verena flipped open the blue box. “I’m giving it back to him.”

  “What a shame,” Fianna said, slipping the diamond onto her finger. “I don’t remember you ever wearing this.”

  “That’s because he never got around to giving me a ring when we were engaged. He only recently left this in my office.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s deluded, I suppose. I gave up trying to figure Derrick out.”

  “Smart move.” Fianna gave her the ring back. She slipped a couple of fragrant sachets into the package of clothes. “Here’s something sweeter for you. These sachets are from Dahlia’s company. And some for Anika and Bella and Mia, too,” Fianna added, tucking a few more in. “We’ve watched the girls grow up, haven’t we? They’ll be old enough to wear my designs before long. Maybe I could start a younger line, something fun.”

  “Anika and Bella would love that,” Verena said. “I knew you were destined for greatness, Fianna. You always had incredible talent. Surely success is right around the corner for you.”

  “I hope so. This boutique and the new lines cost a fortune. Every penny I make seems to go right back into the business. If I can expand distribution, which takes more investment in inventory, then Scarlett can work on the licensing deals she has in mind.”

  “Sounds like you have a plan.”

  “You bet I do,” Fianna said, her mouth set in a determined line. “Here’s your traveling wardrobe.” She handed the package to Verena. “Have a great trip.”

  “Ah, the glamour of travel,” Mia said facetiously as she, Verena, and the twins prepared to go through the airport security line on their way to France. Verena was glad that Mia had managed to obtain a ticket for her on the same flight they were taking.

  Verena removed her shoes, belt, and jacket, emptied her pockets, took out her laptop, tablet computer, and phone, and placed everything in the bins on the conveyer belt for scanning. Between the four of them, Verena had twelve bins to organize.

  “And the twins think this is fun,” Mia said, watching Anika and Bella relish the new experience.

  Anika looked at Mia and Verena. “May I go through the line first?” she asked, while Bella was hopping from one foot to another in anticipation.

  “Sure,” said Verena. “You have to wait for the security personnel to give you clearance before you go through. Remember to watch your belongings and collect your bins.”

  As Verena prepared to go through the line, she caught a glimpse of the back of a man who had just gone through one of the other security lines in front of her. She blinked. No, it couldn’t be. She squinted and tried to get a better look. Is that Lance? She could have sworn it was, but she hadn’t seen his face. She shook her head. No, it couldn’t be. This is ridiculous. Why couldn’t she get him out of her mind?

  “Verena, are you going?” Mia was waiting for her.

  “What? Oh, no, you go ahead, Mia.” Verena watched her grandmother walk through the scanner. Though she was still in great shape for her age, despite her bouts with cancer, Verena noticed her slowing step. Although this was far from a carefree trip, she was glad that Mia had suggested coming along with the twins. She never knew how much time her grandmother had left.

  Once they’d made it through security and boarded their Air France plane, the four of them settled in for the long trans-Atlantic flight. After the in-flight meal, they took turns going to the tiny bathroom to perform their nightly skin cleansing ritual. Verena replaced the girls’ shoes with fuzzy socks, tucked them into their reclined seats with thin flight blankets, and watched as they fell asleep.

  Several hours later, Verena woke to the smell of coffee. She was still groggy in her half dream state and disturbed by her nocturnal fantasy. What was I dreaming? She realized with a start that she’d been dreaming of Lance. What’s the matter with me? A man cooks two meals for me and I can’t get him out of my mind? She stretched and rotated her cramped neck.

  Mia was next to her, watching her with interest. “Good morning. Sweet dreams?”

  Verena shrugged, trying to forget how sweet they were. Just once in my life, she thought, thinking about how nice it would be to have a real-life man like that in her life. Her body still ached with dream-laden desire. Just once she longed to have the
kind of wild romantic experience others talked about, but she had never known.

  “Seemed like it. You were talking in your sleep.” Mia had an amused look on her face.

  “Don’t tell me. I’ll get coffee.” Verena threw off her blanket. The plane was dark, and most of the passengers were still sleeping. She padded down the aisle to the galley, where a flight attendant prepared two cups of coffee for her. As she waited, she peered into the cabin in front of her. She looked for the man that had been ahead of them in the security line, but she couldn’t see much.

  “Crème?” the flight attendant asked.

  “Oui, merci.”

  “Sucre?”

  “Non, merci.”

  She carried the cups back to her seat, pausing as she watched Mia, who was arranging her hair, and Anika and Bella, who were still sleeping. Mia had an array of small travel-sized VSS skincare products on her tray: toning lotion, moisturizer, eye cream. And her special serum. Verena loved the subtle, fresh smell that hadn’t changed in years. To her, it had always been the scent of morning.

  Verena sat down and placed the cups on her tray. “Here you are.”

  “Thank you, my dear,” Mia whispered.

  Verena touched a spot on her face. “Your serum worked wonders on a bruise I had. Did you change the formula?”

  A smile played on Mia’s lips. “I might have. Glad you like it.”

  “It’s a shame there’s nothing we can do with it right now.”

  Watching the girls sleep and her grandmother conduct her beauty ritual, even on an airplane, made Verena realize how much she loved her family, and how much they depended on her. This is an important trip. The business, their livelihood, their way of life—everything was at stake.

  A little while later, after a breakfast of croissants, yogurt, and fruit, the flight began its descent into Charles de Gaulle airport outside of Paris. Anika and Bella took turns gazing from the window.

  “Look at the patches of farm land,” Bella cried, “I thought Paris was a city.”