by Anthology
“This is all work related, right?” She asked anxiously.
“Of course,” Marlene finally said, and though her expression didn’t change, Samantha felt a strong vibe of frustration. “Why would you even think anything else?”
Marlene slid out of the limo as soon as the driver opened the door. Samantha hadn’t even realized the limo had stopped.
“This is the most exclusive boutique in the city. Raymond and I will tell you what you need. Remember, enjoy yourself, dear.”
The bright May sunshine briefly blinded Samantha as she followed Marlene out of the car, still clutching the credit card and the note pad in her hands. The uniformed driver tipped his hat to her closing the door behind her. She would have pinched herself if her hands weren’t full. She was standing in front of the clothing boutique featured in every fashion magazine in the city, probably the East Coast. Every wealthy woman in the city tried to get photographed wearing something from Andrea’s. It was guaranteed to make the society pages. And she was about to go inside, and even own an outfit from there.
“We will have lunch here,” Marlene said, finally pausing long enough for Samantha to catch up. “I’ve arranged a duplicate of all your toiletries and have purchased a luggage set. The Andrea’s team has selected some ensembles for you to choose from, based on your measurements and hair and skin coloring.”
Samantha had to force herself not to say something sarcastic about the beauty of freedom of choice. She was still stuck on the ‘duplicate toiletries.’
“Welcome to Andrea’s Miss Jones!” said a man and woman who held the double doors open and hurried her inside.
“Samantha, you’re even lovelier than the photos,” the man said, hugging her around the shoulders. “I’m Raymond, dear, here to help you select everything you need for your weekend.”
Despite her dismay that somehow he’d seen photos of her, Samantha liked Raymond immediately. His eyes sparkled, and his smile lit up the room. He wore all black, as if on the Putnam payroll, but on him, it seemed friendly.
The woman who had opened the door for her wore a red baseball cap and gray sweatpants and sweatshirt. She didn’t seem like someone who would work in a sophisticated, expensive boutique, but really, Samantha mentally shrugged, what did she know? Marlene immediately drew the baseball-capped woman aside and they were deep in conversation in the corner of the boutique.
Samantha took a moment to look around the sophisticated store. The walls were all white, the floors gray cement and the ceilings two stories high. Clothing racks and metal and glass display cases were sprinkled throughout the large room, as were elegant sitting areas of white and brown leather. Lighting hung on metal cords, perfectly illuminating each area, presenting the clothing items as art, which she supposed they were. Glass vases were filled with yellow orchids, adding the only color to the environment aside from the clothing. The shop reminded Samantha of Mr. Putnam’s office, and she wondered if he owned the place.
“Walk with me,” Raymond said, wrapping an arm through Samantha’s and guiding her to a seating area. “You need some champagne, it will take the shock off, my darling. You were only just told about this trip this morning, right?”
Raymond returned with a flute of champagne and a crystal glass filled with ice water. “Drink up, my dear, and I’ll begin showing you all the goodies.”
Samantha gulped the champagne. She didn’t realize she was so thirsty. As Raymond refilled the flute, he whispered, “Pace yourself, dear.”
She leaned back in the couch, and finally, took a deep breath.
“Outfit One, is for this afternoon. A traveling ensemble. Simple black linen dress from Herve Leger – much more breathable than that work shift dear, although I like your thinking – paired with these sexy Michael Kors black sandals. We’ll pull your hair back in a low pony, tie it with this black Chanel scarf, pop these perfect pearl studs in your ears and voila, my little Audrey Hepburn is born!”
Samantha laughed, for the first time all day. “I love it all,” she said, and realized as she tried to stand up to hug him that the champagne had gone straight to her head. “Whoa,” she said, sitting down quickly.
“You just stay seated dear. I only need you to try the evening options. I’ve narrowed it down to three, but you will need only two,” Raymond said, his black eyes twinkling.
“Why do I need evening wear?” Samantha asked, startled. “And let’s not go crazy. A couple pieces I can mix and match and one night outfit is more than enough for a weekend. I’m really simple.”
“Yes, dear, I see you have the whole J. Crew vibe going,” Raymond said. “But it’s time to step up your game. You’re going to be surrounded by very wealthy people. You will have twelve different ‘looks’, dear.”
“Twelve?”
Samantha banged down her champagne flute.
“Naturally, dear. Boss’ orders. Just say ‘thank you, Sir’ and enjoy, know what I mean?”
“Well, yes, I guess,” Samantha said, feeling more uncomfortable with this situation every time Raymond opened his mouth. “Do you know where I am going?”
“Nope,” Raymond said and turned back toward his assistant who was taking another set of clothes off a wheeled in rack. “Outfit Two.”
“This is so overwhelming,” Samantha interrupted. “So Pretty Woman –ish. I mean, I have my own clothes. I’m sort of on trend, right?” she asked pointing to herself.
“Girl, you’re 23. Gorgeous. Fit. Perfect little body. But, you’re working hard for the money. Mr. Putnam, he’s got more than he needs. If he’d like to buy you some ‘business’ clothes, let him,” Raymond said, using the air quotes around business and making Samantha blush. “Outfit Three.”
Samantha wasn’t a fool. Did they all think she was? When men buy younger women things there usually are strings attached, especially when the older man is the boss. What had she gotten herself into? Who wears evening clothes at a business conference? How had she gotten herself into this mess? She’d never even spoken to Mr. Putnam before this morning, much less let him think she was interested. Or available. She stamped down the memory of the shot of electricity when they’d shaken hands. She needed to call this whole thing off. Could she and still keep her job? Samantha picked at her fingernail polish and ignored Raymond’s rhapsodies about Outfits Two and Three.
“Samantha, this is Judy, your stylist,” Marlene said, waving Raymond off. “She’ll be doing hair and makeup, photographing you in each outfit so you’ll know how to accomplish the looks on your own this weekend. Expect a lot of humidity, Judy,” Marlene added.
“I packed her a lot of hairspray,” Judy answered, grinning down at Samantha, a smile so broad her gums showed top and bottom, the red of her mouth matching her red baseball cap.
“I know how to fix my hair,” Samantha said, annoyed that they were treating her like a doll.
Judy looked amused.
“Ta da!” Raymond said, reappearing from behind the curtain holding a wonderful and simple outfit. Samantha smiled.
“White AG jeans, tight to show off that perfect little body, a James Pearse fitted light blue shirt. Big bangle jewelry. These great gray booties from Stuart Weitzman. These gorgeous diamond and rose gold A Link small cloud diamond earrings – to die for, am I right?”
Raymond handed her the gorgeous earrings and Samantha saw the price tag – $4,450 for the earrings alone.
“No, Marlene, I can’t,” Samantha said, standing up, finally able to walk to where Marlene and Judy stood packing a travel bag full of brand new makeup. “No, this is too much.”
She held out the earrings as if they were an explosive.
“Judy, excuse us,” Marlene said and pulled Samantha over to the far wall of the store. “Look young lady. This,” her sweeping gesture included the entire room. “Is what Mr. Putnam wants. What he expects. It’s what you agreed to. You are living every woman’s dream, you are living my dream, and boosting your career. I suggest you pull yourself together and enjoy the mo
ment.”
She stared into Samantha’s eyes, her tone softened. “I know this is overwhelming dear, but truly, you should try to relax. It’s business, Mr. Putnam’s way. Don’t disappoint him. Be thankful. Lunch will be served in an hour.”
Marlene patted Samantha on the shoulder and walked away. Samantha stood alone, humiliated and confused. This is what I signed up for she reasoned. But she still wasn’t clear on what “this” entailed. It was so over the top. Samantha leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. She had to get a grip.
Something Raymond had said, burbled into her consciousness. There were going to be a lot of wealthy people there. But he didn’t know where or who.
“There must be a reason Mr. Putnam wants me to look a certain way, to dress a certain way,” Sam said under her breath.
A sudden thought struck her. Maybe this is actually the deal negotiation he is bringing me to, not just the practice, she realized. Yes, that was it. Nothing inappropriate. It was business. She was representing Blake Genetics. She would need to look her best, to dress like a top executive on a weekend business conference. She could do this, accept these gifts because it would help seal the deal. And she could wear them during other work events. Mr. Putman was making an investment in her.
“Ok Raymond,” Samantha said, strutting across the room in an attempt to channel an inner diva she never thought she’d need. “Bring it on. Outfit Four I think. I can’t wait to see what I get next!”
“That a girl!” Raymond said, kissing her on both cheeks. “Let’s do evening wear, since you’re in the mood. Follow me to the dressing room. We’ve been instructed to photograph you in each look! This will be so fun!”
Samantha tried on a strapless bias ruffle Oscar de la Renta floor length gown – light blue to match her eyes, according to Raymond – price $7,000 according to tag – that fit her perfectly. She’d never felt like a princess before. The diamond studs and simple diamond choker complimented the dress perfectly. And she now owned her first pair of Christian Louboutin heels, thank you Mr. Putnam.
Samantha gave her practical side the rest of the morning off as she approved, if that were the word for it, a wonderful Tadashi Shoji sleeveless scallop-neck and hem cocktail dress in a vibrant blue – to make her eyes more intense, according to Raymond – price $500, according to tag – that also fit perfectly.
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. Th
e 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.