“Maybe her hair has changed shades naturally,” he offered.
“No, it’s dyed. I can tell. It’s a good dye job, though. She probably has it done at a salon. Although now with two little ones at home, I don’t know if she’ll have the time for that.”
“Hmm.” He nibbled the cracker as quietly as possible.
“I think it’s a good idea to have your children as close in age as possible. I had three boys in four years, you know. It wasn’t easy, but I’d rather that than have one in diapers and one learning to drive.”
“Gram, if this is a subtle hint that you want grandkids, you’re wasting your time with me. Talk to my brother.”
She made a pfft sound. “I’m never subtle, sweetheart. You know that. If I wanted you to have children you’d know it.” She was quiet for several beats. “But do you, Teddy? Want kids, I mean.”
He ate another cracker, this one very fast. Now he was thirsty but lacked the courage to walk the few feet to his kitchenette for a glass of water. He might freeze along the way. He’d just have to suffer his parched throat while staying cocooned in three fleecy blankets and a cashmere scarf around his neck.
“I like children, but I doubt I’ll have any.”
“Lots of gay couples adopt, sweetie. Or they have surrogates.”
“They do, but I’m not a couple. I’m just me. And I’m not brave enough for single parenthood.” This time he ate two crackers at once, which didn’t help with his thirst but did stop him from blurting out anything rude to his grandmother. She loved him. She cared about him. It wasn’t her fault that he found relationship-related discussions toxic.
“Teddy dear, you’re young. You have time for your life to go all kinds of unexpected places. Don’t rule things out so easily.”
“But I don’t want unexpected. I have everything mapped out. Our vases are going to be really successful.” He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. “I’ll send you one of the first ones off the production line.”
“And I’ll pimp them to everyone in my garden club.”
His grandmother’s unexpected choice of words made Teddy spray cracker crumbs across his blankets and probably halfway across the apartment. “Pimp, Gram?”
“I’m on the Facebook. I know all the hip new terms.”
They chatted for a few more minutes, mostly about her upcoming trip to New York City, organized by her local senior center. She was going to see three Broadway shows while she was there, and she promised to send him the playbills.
By the time the call ended, Teddy was out of crackers and so dehydrated he worried his skin would begin to crack. His landlord would come searching when the rent wasn’t paid, and find him in a desiccated heap on the couch, surrounded by crumbs and blankets. At least he’d look stylish in his Burberry scarf.
Maybe Reddyflora’s next project should solve dilemmas such as his: a person alone in his apartment, wanting something fetched but too cold to get it himself. What if someone could figure out a way to give a robot vacuum arms and a smidge of artificial intelligence? That would be ideal—then Teddy could use an app to send it for a glass of water, and it could clean the floor as it went. The gadget could have a cutesy, friendly name—Bobby the Butler Bot, perhaps—and come in bright colors to match various décors.
Teddy rubbed his chin thoughtfully, wondering if Bobby could be manufactured at a viable price point and, more importantly, how feasible the software would be.
But that turned out to be a mistake. His runaway thought train went straight from software to software developers, and that meant it headed directly to Romeo Blue. Such an aggravating man, all smug in his dumb boring office with his ugly unit.
Damnit. Teddy didn’t want to think about Romeo’s unit.
* * *
The next morning, Imani flew at Teddy before he even had his scooter stowed away. “What the hell is up with those new specs, Teddy?”
Well, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t known this was coming. He shot her a long-suffering look before stripping off his outerwear and hanging it up. “I need coffee before this conversation. Do we have coffee?”
“Second pot just brewed.”
She hovered impatiently while he filled the humongous three-dollar clearance mug he’d found at Target. It had a cute little rainbow design, but more importantly, it held enough coffee to caffeinate a small army. Or at least enough to fortify him through a discussion with Imani.
She wheeled her chair across the floor to his cubicle and waited with crossed arms as he got himself situated. “Well?” she demanded at last.
“It’s Romeo’s fault.” Okay, perhaps not the most mature response, but it was absolutely accurate. “He claims the electronics housing has to be big to fit everything, and it is capital-U ugly. I had to make some design changes to camouflage it.”
“We can’t afford those changes. Look what they did to the price per piece! You gobbled the profit margin right up.” She waved a paper at him, which was an especially bad sign. Like everyone else at Reddyflora, Imani did the majority of her work electronically, but when she thought something was crucial or terrifying, she printed it out. Quite possibly so she could brandish the bad news theatrically, as she was doing right now.
“We can’t afford not to make the changes,” Teddy replied glumly. “Nobody in their right mind would buy the vase otherwise.”
She heaved a heavy sigh. “I don’t want to be a narc, but I’m gonna have to tell Lauren.”
“Yeah. I figured.”
“You sure you and Romeo can’t work this out somehow?”
Teddy imagined himself trying to reason with Romeo, who’d only glower back at him and shake his head. Maybe Romeo would throw in some obscure technical jargon for good measure, or spout physics equations to support his arguments. “Not without a magic wand.”
“We haven’t budgeted for those.”
For the next hour or two, Teddy buried himself in writing ad copy and sending emails to press representatives in hopes of enticing them to write articles about Reddyflora. Usually he enjoyed these activities, but today he kept getting distracted by activity outside his cubicle. He was all too aware when Romeo arrived and attempted to make a beeline for his office before getting waylaid by Imani. And Teddy noticed too, when Imani emerged from Romeo’s office a short time later, grumbling at the papers clutched in her hand.
She skulked until Lauren click-clacked into their presence in her Jimmy Choos, at which point Imani insisted, “We need to talk, Lauren.”
Teddy was staring at his desktop, but he could practically hear Lauren wince.
It was nowhere near lunchtime, so Teddy tried to fabricate another reasonable excuse to escape. It was too early in the season to hope for a tornado warning, and Chicago was generally lacking in serious seismic activity. Could he manufacture a wardrobe malfunction, perhaps? But today he wore a pair of 1940s pleated trousers that he adored far too much to damage, even in the interest of avoiding conflict.
In his upper right-hand desk drawer, behind the extra packs of staples, paperclips, and pens, Teddy had a secret weapon. It didn’t look like much from the outside: just a small square box covered in a pale turquoise velvet. The kind of box you might use to present a ring, which had in fact been its original use. It had once contained a band of black titanium edged with rose gold. Not the Tiffany version, which Teddy couldn’t afford, but a nice, less-expensive rendition. The engagement ring had looked so good on Gregory’s finger that he’d said he might want to use it as a wedding band. Now it sat somewhere at the bottom of the Chicago River, where Gregory had thrown it when they broke up.
But Teddy still had the box. And inside was a tiny rectangle of some cheap metal—a zinc alloy, he suspected—stamped with four letters: LOVE. He’d found it on a curb a week after Gregory left, and he’d picked it up and saved it. He didn’t know why. He could probably buy a full gross of id
entical tags for twenty bucks on Amazon. Yet he’d tucked it into that stupid box and taken the box to work, and every time he peeked inside, he felt better about life. It was as if the little charm was a promise that difficult times would eventually pass. Happiness, the letters implied, waited just around the corner.
Today he didn’t believe that, but the tag improved his mood anyway. Even faux cheer was better than nothing.
He’d just tucked the box back into the drawer with a sigh when his phone buzzed. A text from Lauren: Come see me.
Shit. He wondered whether it was the profit margins on the base model that had her agitated, or his blowup with Romeo. Neither would be fun. And he couldn’t procrastinate with her as he had with Romeo yesterday.
Teddy cast a longing look at his desk drawer, stood, and trudged a path through the cubicles. He knocked on Lauren’s closed door and waited for the invitation to enter.
Lauren, her hair pulled into a neat bun, wore a black sheath dress and a white cropped jacket with black floral embroidery. She stood next to a massive glass-topped desk with a base of reclaimed hardwood and metal train rails. Her aesthetic was definitely minimalist, and the desktop held nothing but her laptop and a small arrangement of dry-stacked round stones. A small gray couch sat unobtrusively in a corner. Elegantly framed black-and-white photos of single flowers hung on the wall—a tulip, a lily, a rose, an allium—each with a bare stem, as if they awaited the perfect vase. She’d replaced the overhead fluorescents with a modernist chrome-and-crystal chandelier, and a geometric area rug in grays and faded blues covered much of the floor. Her chair had a tall back but delicate lines.
“Have a seat.” She gestured at one of the three chairs in front of her desk, low-back things that looked nice but felt uncomfortable no matter how you sat in them. Teddy nodded and obeyed, and she smiled warmly. “I tried that Indian place you mentioned, and it’s amazing. Thanks for the rec.”
“Glad you liked it.”
“You’re right about the décor there too. It’s fresh enough to surprise without being jarring or distracting.”
Her praise came off as genuine rather than an attempt to soften the blow of whatever was coming next. Partly because, all her aspirations of innovation aside, she was the type of person who let you know exactly what she was thinking and feeling. If she didn’t like something, she said so plainly. But she was also forthcoming with compliments, which made working for her much more bearable, despite the questionable choice of office building. Plus she had vision and drive.
“Their drink menu needs more imagination,” Teddy said. “I mean, it’s okay, but...”
“Nothing new. Yeah. It’d be good if the chef took a quick glance beyond the food.”
He scooched his butt on the seat in vain hope of a better perch. “Their dessert choices, though—” But before he could wax rhapsodic about the rose chai cheesecake, someone knocked on the door.
“Come in!” Lauren called.
Teddy’s heart sank when Romeo walked into the office. He’d really been hoping for Imani. The only solace was that Romeo looked as unhappy as Teddy felt. Lauren, on the other hand, appeared entirely cheery as she waved Romeo to a seat. “We were discussing Indian food.”
“I already had lunch. And I’m allergic to some curries.”
She chuckled. “Not to eat now, Ro. Teddy told me about a new restaurant, and I was just letting him know how much I liked it.”
“Oh.” Romeo ducked his head and stared at his hands. His tightly curled hair was always perfectly shaped. He had long, broad-tipped fingers with very neat, clean nails. He probably booked manicures and other pampering treatments at regular intervals.
Lauren crossed her arms atop her desk and her expression grew serious. “I have bad news and good news.”
Teddy clamped his lips to avoid blurting out any double entendres about Romeo’s unit, and Romeo simply looked bewildered. “News?”
“Mmm-hmm. As I’m sure you’re both aware, we’re inches away from starting production—but cash flow is tight, tight, tight.”
“Imani just gave me the new numbers this morning,” Teddy said, feeling a little frantic. “I’m working on it. And Romeo and I are in conversation too.” That was an exaggeration, perhaps, but not quite an untruth.
She waggled her hands. “I know, I know. You’re all busting your butts on this. I’ve noticed the long hours you’ve been putting in, and I super appreciate you. But you can only squeeze things so much, right? And we all want quality products. We want Reddyflora to shine. And...guys, we’re in trouble here.”
Teddy’s throat felt too thick for words, so he was grateful when Romeo asked the obvious. “How much trouble?”
“Layoffs. I’ve already cut my own salary to the bone, and there’s not much more I can do except shrink the payroll.” Lauren stared at a spot somewhere over Romeo’s shoulder.
Teddy struggled to appear stoic. He’d been unemployed before and he could survive it again. But dammit, he’d really hoped this job was going somewhere. He’d believed in Reddyflora. A quick glance showed Romeo cool as ever, but of course he knew that his job was safe. Nobody could make smart vases without a software guy.
“You mentioned good news?” Teddy asked.
And Lauren’s demeanor changed instantly, her eyes sparkling and her shoulders twitching with excitement. “Yes! I’m so psyched over the newest development.”
Teddy and Romeo exchanged confused glances. “What’s the development?” Teddy asked, not sure he wanted the answer.
“A potential investor! She believes in us and is almost ready to pump a whole lot of money into our production. She’ll get fully behind our marketing too, which is important because she has all the right connections. With her on board, everyone can keep their jobs.” She tapped her fingers on her upper arms. “And you know who she is? Joyce Alexander!”
With difficulty, Teddy suppressed a squeal. “The Joyce Alexander? Seriously?”
“Yes!”
“That’s incredible! How did you even—wow, Lauren, this is huge!”
“I know!” she sang. “I just found out less than an hour ago, and I had to take some time to calm down before I could even talk about it to anyone. I mean, it’s not just a fat bank account we’re dealing with here, but celebrities. Media! With her help, I can see us splashed all over the major décor mags and lifestyle blogs. Reddyflora vases could be the must-have accessory. Like those Brno chairs and furry cushions everyone was buying a few years back.”
“Like ubiquitous succulents,” said Teddy, who was way over that trend, especially since all of his plants had promptly died.
“Exactly! We are the succulents of the future!” Lauren and Teddy leaped to their feet and high-fived with such enthusiasm that they almost toppled the little stone cairn.
“Who’s Joyce Alexander?”
Both Lauren and Teddy gaped at Romeo, but it was Teddy who spoke first. “The fashion goddess?”
Romeo shook his head. “I don’t really know fashion.”
That was news to Teddy, who thought Romeo always looked well put together, but Romeo seemed sincere. Teddy collapsed into his chair. “Okay. So, she first hit it big in the seventies with these floral dresses with strong Victorian influence. Lots of lace and taffeta and full skirts. She hit the right price point too—girls in the ’burbs could afford them for prom and other special occasions. Eventually she branched out into men’s fashion, and she got away with selling retro looks even in the eighties and early nineties when everyone else was doing those godawful neons and boxy blazers and acid-washed jeans.” He shuddered.
“The eighties were a long time ago.” Romeo still looked puzzled.
“Right. But she evolved. Managed to keep her brand strong right through grunge and then hit it even bigger with goth. She was doing jewelry and cosmetics and fabrics and furniture. She became a lifestyle brand.”
“She had a resort in Vermont,” Lauren chimed in. “And a line of interior paint colors.”
Romeo didn’t look impressed. “You’re using a lot of past tense here.”
Teddy slumped melodramatically. “She’s...moved on to another plane.”
“She’s dead?” Those delicate eyebrows shot upward.
“If she were dead she couldn’t really offer to back us, could she? Unless Lauren’s been negotiating via Ouija board.”
Lauren shook her head emphatically. “Nope. I never do business with the deceased. You can’t trust ’em.”
Repositioning himself in his seat, Teddy suspected this might be the strangest workplace conversation he’d engaged in. This year, anyway. “She’s stepped away from most of what she used to do. Sort of retired. In fact, she’s a bit of a recluse nowadays. But she remains a grande dame of fashion, a doyenne, and she pops up every now and then to put her seal of approval on something she especially likes. And when she does, everybody suddenly has to have it. Last year it was brightly colored vegan snakeskin boots with kitten heels.”
“Kittens?”
Teddy groaned and was thankful that Lauren stepped in. “Don’t worry about it, Ro. Take my word for it: she’s still a huge big deal. And if she backs us, we’ll also be a huge big deal. No layoffs. Capital for future projects.”
Although Romeo didn’t look nearly as excited as Teddy felt, he asked a pertinent question. “Okay. But why do you need us? Money’s Imani’s gig.”
Teddy had become so caught up in the whole idea of Joyce Alexander, he’d forgotten that Lauren needed something from them. He cocked his head and waited.
But Lauren didn’t answer right away. She sat in her tall-back chair and straightened the laptop on the desk. She adjusted a stone or two on the sculpture and then sat back, looking as if she desperately wished she had something more to fidget with. She cleared her throat. “Well. Joyce hasn’t made up her mind yet. I need to make a really convincing pitch. And that means you two need to get your shit together.”
The Beautiful Things Shoppe Page 23