by Jan Moran
“What? Those were for the business, for payroll.” She was astonished that Roper would deny that reimbursement. After all, he had agreed to it. A chill slashed through her. I can’t believe a word that man says. She’d have to call Scarlett again.
“I know, I know. Verena, look, I spoke to Herringbone’s counsel, and it appears this deal is in danger of not going through. Are you prepared for that?”
Verena sat back. The negotiation had gone on so long that the only option now was bankruptcy protection. “No.”
“All right then, will you agree to this last point? You’ll carry the personal debt you incurred, and try to make it up on the sale at the end. How much is it?”
Verena gave him a six-figure number.
There was a moment of silence. “You must have great credit.”
“Had, Jack. Had.” She felt sick to her stomach. Her entire world was imploding.
“Times are tough here, Verena.”
“Our forecast is still excellent.” Orders in Asia were increasing.
“True, but Herringbone is greedy.”
Verena fell silent, remembering what Mia had said about Roper—a greedy bastard. Her grandmother rarely used such language. “That’s the second time today someone said that.”
Jack gave a sour laugh. “Well, it’s true. Are you sure you don’t have any other options?”
“I wouldn’t be considering this deal if I did.”
“So, you’ll agree?”
“I’ll call you back.” She clicked off, then dialed Scarlett. After explaining the situation to her, Scarlett’s advice mirrored Jack’s.
Her head throbbing, Verena called Jack again. Feeling powerless, she choked out one word. “Agreed.”
Two hours later the documents finally came through on the fax. Verena sat at her desk and began to review the redlined copies once more. A few minutes into it, she bolted up, and then punched Jack’s number. “What’s this in section 8.2?”
“Hold on, I just got the documents, too.” She could hear him clicking through the copy on his computer. He cursed under his breath. “They want you to reduce your salary by thirty percent.”
“I’m already making less than any other CEO they have in their portfolio company, and now I’m carrying enormous personal debt that must be serviced, thanks to Roper.” She’d be making less than anyone on her executive team—and that included Jimmy Don. She recognized this as a psychological strategy to undermine her authority and strip her power.
“Verena, wait, you still have control of the board. Just agree to it, deliver the numbers you say you’re going to, and then vote yourself a raise at the next board meeting.”
Verena was quiet for a moment. “I can do that?”
“As long as you control the board.” He paused. “The email says this is their final offer. If not received back by five o’clock, the deal is off the table.”
“It’s twelve minutes to five.”
“They will probably hold to that. Or penalize you more for missing it.”
Verena had a few choice words for Herringbone, but she held her tongue. “I’ll have Scarlett call you.”
Verena dialed her friend, explaining this last volley. She could hear Scarlett explode on the other end, but she promised to call Jack and Herringbone’s counsel.
At two minutes to five, her phone rang. “Scarlett, what should I do?” Her shoulders slumped as Scarlett spoke, and she could hardly breathe. “I understand. I’ll sign the damned documents.” She slammed the phone down, and then angrily scratched out her signature on several pages.
Lacey hovered at the door. “What can I do?”
Verena tapped the documents on her desk. “Fax these back to Herringbone right away. I’m leaving. If Derrick calls, have him call my mobile phone.” She slammed her desk drawer shut and grabbed her purse. She noted the concerned look on Lacey’s face. “Don’t worry, it’s not you, Lacey.”
“Oh, I know, Verena,” she said with a sad drawl. “I swear I’ve never seen such goings on.”
“First, I want you to know that wasn’t my idea, Verena,” Derrick said, holding up a flat palm as he nudged the door closed behind him.
Verena glanced up from the report on her desk, barely able to contain her rage over the lengthy negotiations that had culminated yesterday. Arching a brow, she said, “You could have stuck up for me.”
“Roper likes to score concessions in the last couple of rounds.” Derrick crossed the room, the sound of his new shoes as sharp as nutcrackers on the hardwood floor. He came up behind Verena and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading her neck.
“Stop it.” Verena shrugged away from him.
“You must understand, it wasn’t personal.”
Verena expressed a puff of air between her lips and continued to read. He was so damned logical, and she was sick of it. The agreement had been amended so many times it was bleeding red ink.
“Come on, Verena, don’t shut me out.” Derrick circled her chair and then perched on the edge of her desk. Leaning toward her, he placed his hand over the report she was reading.
Brushing his hand away, she pursed her lips. “Thirty percent? That’s extraordinarily personal, Derrick.”
“Look at it as a temporary salary reduction. I can make it up to you.”
“That’s not the point. It was an underhanded tactic.”
Derrick shrugged. “It’s just the way he is. If he smells weakness, he goes in for the kill. It’s sport to him. You should see all the trophy heads on his office wall.”
Verena cringed at the thought of the deer and antelope heads Roper probably had. Supposedly he’d shot a lion in Africa last year, and it made her sick just to think of it. She tilted her chin. “I refuse to be another head on his wall.”
Derrick reached into his pocket and fished out a small red velvet box. He slid it across her desk. “Here’s a little something that should ease your pain.”
She rolled her eyes, fury flowing through her veins like molten lava. “You have got to be kidding.”
Derrick pushed his lower lip out in a contrite expression. “I was only the messenger on this deal, sweetheart. I told you he was a tough old buzzard.”
“I have a different word in mind.” She folded her arms in defiance. “Take your trinket. I don’t want a consolation prize.”
Derrick looked incredulous. “Don’t you even want to see what I bought for you?”
“No. I’m not a little girl who’s going to clap her hands and let you make everything all right,” she said, spitting out the words with a vengeance. “This is my family’s business, Derrick, this is our livelihood. We have bled for this business, you know that. Now, is this Roper’s last sleazy move, or is he going to continue to pillage me and the company every chance he gets?”
“You wanted to play with the big boys, Verena.” He leaned across the desk again, his lips curving into a mocking smile. “Learn the game.”
Verena shoved her chair back and stood up. Picking up her report, she said, “Valent Swiss Skincare is not a game to be played.”
“You came to us. What were you expecting?”
“Some semblance of fair dealing.” She whirled around in a burst of anger. “You’ve become just like Roper.” She spat out the last word, its taste vile on her tongue.
Derrick sauntered past her. “Toughen up, Verena.” He tossed the small box into the air and then stuffed it into his pocket. “And you shouldn’t turn down gifts from me.” He paused at the door and glanced pointedly around her spacious office. “By the way, Jimmy Don will be in after lunch. You should decide where you’re going to put him.”
“I told you that moron is not welcome here.” Verena balled her fist so tight her nails dug into the palm of her hand.
Derrick shrugged. “Roper’s order. But I’ll see what I can do for you.”
22
“YOU COULD HAVE kept them,” Fianna said, taking the cape and scarf she’d given Verena for her Paris trip and hanging them o
n a rack behind the counter of her boutique. “But you can always borrow them again.”
“I’d love to keep the black lace dress,” Verena said. “I’m telling everyone who designed it.”
Fianna grinned. “It’s so perfect on you. Did you want to look around at my latest collection?” She went back to steaming a new dress she had just finished.
Verena’s eyes roamed over the shimmery summer shades of Fianna’s new designs, which were artfully arranged around the shop. “Wish I could, but I’m on a tight budget for a while.”
Fianna frowned as she wielded the long arm of the clothing steamer. “Still dealing with Derrick?”
“It’s complicated, but the deal is done.” Verena was having suspicions now about how much Derrick actually had to do with the deal. Was it really all Roper?
“I can’t believe how much you went through,” Fianna said, shaking her mane of curly red hair. “It boils my blood to think of what that man did to you.”
The front door opened with a jingle, and Fianna smiled at an artsy brunette woman. Turning to Verena, she said, “This is Elena, the jeweler next door I was telling you about.”
“Delighted to meet you,” Verena said. With her hair coiled in a casual twist to reveal exquisite chandelier earrings, Elena looked like an artist. She was clad in black and had a tiny flower tattoo on her neck just behind her ear.
“Fianna always talks about your business,” Elena said. “I should come by for a facial sometime.”
“As my guest, I insist.” Verena inclined her head, trying to place Elena’s accent. “Australian?”
“I grew up there, although I was born in San Diego.”
Suddenly Verena remembered something. “Can you repair a pearl clasp?”
Elena smiled. “Probably. Bring the pearls by sometime.”
“Actually, I have them with me,” Verena said. I’d put it in my purse meaning to have it repaired. Then I changed purses when I went to Paris and forgot about it. I just grabbed it again this morning.”
“What luck,” Fianna said.
Verena fished out a pouch and opened it. Elena ran her fingers reverently over the iridescent pearls. “Incredible quality, simply beautiful, and perfectly matched.”
“These mean a lot to me. They belonged to my mother.” The clasp had snagged on her hair and snapped.
Fianna gave her a sympathetic smile. “Take special care of those.”
“I understand, of course.” Elena inspected the clasp. “I can fix this, no problem.”
Peering over Verena’s shoulder, Fianna said, “Are you still carrying that ring around with you, too?”
“Wha—oh, I forgot.” Derrick’s ring. Verena had felt like throwing it at him. Now more than ever.
“Show it to her,” Fianna said. “Maybe Elena can recommend a good pawn shop for it.”
“She’s kidding,” Verena said.
“Am I?” Fianna shot back. “He owes you.”
“What kind of ring is it?” Elena asked.
Verena dug out the blue box and opened it.
“Engagement ring.” Elena slid the large solitaire from its velvet nest.
“Guess it was meant for that, but no, I’m definitely not engaged anymore.”
“Looks new.”
“I never wore it. He bought it at Tiffany’s in Japan not long ago.”
“You could return it to the store in Beverly Hills.” Elena peered at it.
“No, I’m giving it back to him.” The sooner the better.
Holding the ring, Elena held a magnifying loop she wore around her neck to it. A shadow crossed her face and she looked puzzled as she lowered her loop.
“What’s wrong?” Fianna asked.
Elena shifted uncomfortably. “I hate to see things like this happen.” An uneasy expression creased her brow.
“Verena is one of my best friends,” Fianna said. “You can be honest with her.”
“Tell me what you saw,” Verena said quietly, as more suspicions of Derrick gathered in her mind.
“That’s not a Tiffany ring,” Elena said. “Wherever he bought it—and I’m sure it wasn’t at Tiffany’s—well, they might have misled him. Although he probably knew what he was buying because it’s marked.”
“What are you talking about?” Fianna demanded.
Elena handed the ring back to Verena. “I look at a stone’s characteristics, like how the facets are joined on top of the stone, inclusions, and the appearance of the girdle around the perimeter. But in this case, there’s a marking inside of the ring to confirm it, as there should be. C.Z.” She shook her head. “That’s not a diamond, it’s a cubic zirconia.”
Verena’s phone buzzed and she looked at the screen. “Speak of the devil. I’ll take this outside.”
“Derrick. What’s up?” They spoke for a few minutes, and she answered a question he had. Then Verena said, “I can’t believe you tried to get me back with a fake diamond.”
The line was silent for a moment.
“I didn’t want you to travel with an expensive ring,” Derrick said. “Don’t you think that’s logical?”
Standing on the sun-drenched sidewalk outside of Fianna’s shop, Verena gripped her phone to her ear. “Logical would have been to let me know exactly that,” she said, hurling her words back at him. “Imagine my embarrassment in front of Fianna and Elena.”
“They don’t matter,” Derrick said, huffing. “They’re not your friends.”
“Excuse me? Fianna is an old and trusted friend.” He had often discounted her friendships, and it always annoyed her.
“She used to work for you,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a child.
Verena couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “And what difference might that make?”
“That’s why she’s your friend.” His speech was even more deliberate.
Listening, Verena was incredulous at the turn of the conversation. Derrick did this often, swiftly switching the subject to another matter removed from the issue at hand.
“Back to the ring. It will be with Lacey. Get it from her.” An interminable pause ensued and Verena stood watching the traffic flow on Robertson Boulevard, waiting for him to respond. Finally she said, “Derrick, I have to go,” she said, measuring her words as he had done.
He huffed, but didn’t respond, so she clicked off.
Staring at the blank screen on her mobile phone, she wondered what made some men do the dishonest, disgusting things they did, while other men had a completely different code of conduct.
Men like Pierre. And Lance.
As she thought about it, she realized she still had a decision to make.
Back in her office, Verena picked up the phone to place a call to one of her top buyers. As she was waiting on hold, Jimmy Don sauntered in.
“I’m on a call,” she said evenly.
Oblivious to her comment, he plopped down in front of her desk.
Jimmy Don was driving her crazy. He was supposed to be her chief operating officer, but he was the one making assignments to her. Every time Verena threw a task back at him, he’d just stare at her with his pasty, pock-marked face and tell her it was Roper’s orders.
He smirked at her while she was discussing the next season’s order and promotions. With his surly demeanor fogging up her brain, she had difficulty concentrating.
“Excuse me, may I call you back? Something has just come up, and I’m afraid I have to tend to an emergency.” Verena hung up the phone. “This had better be life-or-death urgent. That call was money in the door.”
He tossed a piece of paper in front of her. “I’m reducing payroll. These layoffs are effective immediately. The bookkeeper is preparing their last checks, but Lynette won’t give me the checks until you approve this. So, there it is. Sign it.”
Verena glared at him. He had no respect for the women who worked in the company. “I assume you’re talking about our controller, Annette. She was correct, but you don’t tell me what to sign.” She scanned the paper
. He had scribbled a list of names. “Are you crazy? The first two women are pregnant.”
“So? When I asked them the exact date they were leaving and returning, and a name and phone number to verify their child care, they didn’t give satisfactory answers.”
“Because they don’t know exactly when they’re going to have the baby. It’s not a bus schedule, it’s childbirth, and it’s unpredictable. And you can’t ask questions about child care.”
“As an employer, it’s my right.”
“No it isn’t.” Verena’s blood pressure soared. “We have laws in this state. You can’t make inquiries like that, and you can’t lay off pregnant women. The answer is no.”
“Then how do we do it legally?” Jimmy Don stared at her.
Verena counted silently to three, and then picked up the phone and punched in Jack Epstein’s number. “Jack, I’m putting you on speaker phone. Jimmy Don is arguing with me about terminating pregnant employees. Why don’t you advise him on employment law so we don’t get slapped with two lawsuits?”
As Jack lectured him, Jimmy Don’s face began to redden. Half an hour later, Verena thanked Jack and hung up. “Satisfied?”
“I don’t care. It’s my decision and I’m going to fire them.”
Verena stood up. “What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you hear a word Jack said?” His behavior was so disturbing. She’d often wondered if he was inexperienced, or ignorant. Now she realized he was just a stubborn, immature jerk.
“I heard.”
“I hope so. That call just cost us a few hundred dollars of Jack’s time. But the real issue is why you won’t listen to me. I’ve been down this road before. I’ll have a word with Roper myself. You can go now.”
She stood waiting for an answer when, to her astonishment, Jimmy Don’s face turned beet red and tears began to trickle from his eyes. Why, the bully is crying. This was just too much.
“Don’t call Roper.” He glared at her, wiping his eyes.
“No? Why shouldn’t I? You barge around making everyone uncomfortable. You bring me plans that haven’t been properly thought out. You insult our controller. You question my decisions. And about the generic brands you purchased for estheticians to use—every one of those products is going back. This is the Valent Swiss Skincare salon. We only use VSS products.”