“I know it must have been difficult,” Jeremy said, obviously reading her mood. “But this is your career we’re talking about. I’m sure there have been many guys before this one and there will be many after, but you’ll only get one shot like this.”
Sophie couldn’t help being offended. He’d not only minimized her relationship with Dalton, but he assumed she wouldn’t have been able to make it on her own, without his help. Sure, it may have been her fault for leading him to believe that, but that didn’t mean she needed to be reminded.
“Can you believe we have the opportunity to manufacture a lower priced line of handbags to appeal to the mass market?” Jeremy asked, rubbing his hands together. “That’ll be huge for us.”
He’d pitched the idea to her before they signed the contract and lined up the first meetings with the department store chain who was interested in her designs for the following morning, but she still had reservations about the idea.
“I think we should wait and see what they have in mind,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “It may be a good strategic move for us to partner with them or it may not be. I’m open to hearing what they have to say, but I think it would be foolish to expect too much.”
“Trust me, they were drooling when they saw your handbags. When they found it you’d be willing to do cheaper knockoffs-”
“I’m not willing to do cheap knockoffs,” she said, trying to temper her irritation. “That’s like someone asking you to turn your one of a kind couture gowns into mass produced bridesmaids dresses.”
He laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. No one would ever ask me to do that. They know my name is synonymous with superior quality and my clients are willing to pay a small fortune for my ingenuity.”
“I may not have your reputation,” Sophie said, trying to keep her voice neutral. “But I have built my brand organically, one client at a time, and I think they are willing to pay more for my handbags because they know they’re not just another designer handbag. They’re a work of art.”
He glanced at the colorfully adorned bag in lap. “Of course they are. I wouldn’t have partnered with you otherwise.”
“But now I get the feeling you’re asking me to sell out to the highest bidder.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This offer with the department store…” She didn’t want to speak out of turn, especially without having all the facts, but wanted him to know she had no intention of rolling over because he thought she should. Just because he believed this deal would be good for their company didn’t mean she would agree once she heard their pitch. “It’s far from being a done deal, Jeremy. I won’t cheapen a brand I spent years building. My business may be small by your standards, but I’ve stayed true to my vision and that’s not going to change.”
He seemed to consider her warning before loosening his tie. “Ah, but it’s our business now, darling. We get to make the decisions that we feel are in the best interest of the company.”
“You just said it was my business!” Forget about playing nice. It was time to take the gloves off. “I’m the one-”
“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Jeremy said, sighing. “Let’s just hear what they have to say tomorrow, okay?”
“Fine.” Sophie knew he was right. There was no point arguing about it now, before they knew whether they were on the same page, but she had a sinking feeling they’d be having the same argument all over again tomorrow. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
***
As soon as Sophie picked up the phone Dalton could tell something was wrong. “Hey, baby. Long day? It’s my fault for waking you up last night, isn’t it?”
“No,” she said, sighing. “It’s not your fault. It’s all my fault for being so stupid and impetuous. What the hell was I thinking, partnering with that pretentious know-it-all?”
Dalton pinched his lips together, trying not to smile. He wanted her to be happy, but if she was already fighting with Jeremy, perhaps their new partnership would be short-lived… and she would return home where she belonged.
“Problems with the new partner?”
“He’s trying to talk me into a deal I’m not sure I’m comfortable with.”
“Honey, it’s your business. If you don’t think it’s a good deal, just say no.”
Her breathing was slightly laboured, as though she’d been pacing back and forth. “Yeah, he says the same thing, that it’s my business and my decision. But I know he doesn’t mean it.”
Dalton kicked his feet up on the ottoman in his family room, settling in for a long conversation. Not that he minded. Even if she only want to vent to him about her business problems, instead of how much she missed him, he was still happy to be her sounding board. “What do you mean?”
“He sees himself as the expert. He just assumes because he’s this big fashion icon he knows everything and I know nothing.”
Dalton could understand her frustration. She’d made it this far on her own and it had to be difficult dealing with input from a partner at this stage, especially when they had differing opinions. “Sweetheart, I know you may not want to hear this right now, but this is what you signed on for. You had to know it would be difficult working with a partner after being on your own for so long.”
“I know.” She suddenly sounded deflated. “God, what was I thinking, Mitch? Did I make a huge mistake selling Jeremy part of my business? Was I just being greedy, wanting to break into the International market? Maybe I should have continued on with things as they were. I mean, I was seeing steady growth, making a really good living, and proud of the products I produced. Should I have been satisfied with that?”
Dalton was torn between what was best for him and what he believed may be best for her business. “You’re the only one who can answer that, Soph,” he said, finally. “No one knows your business as well as you do.”
“I thought this is what I wanted.” She sniffled. “But now everything’s happening so fast and I feel like I’m just getting caught up in this whirlwind.”
“Maybe you should just take some time to figure things out?” He struggled, trying to decide whether his ulterior motives were coloring his advice. “Don’t rush in to anything, or do something you might regret. This could have a long-term impact on your business, right?”
“It could change everything,” she said, softly. “That’s just it. The kind of deal Jeremy wants me to do with this department store would make my brand barely recognizable.”
“What does that mean?” Dalton asked, hearing the quiet desperation in her voice and wishing he could be there to hold her and assure her everything was going to work out for the best.
“My clients love my handbags because they’re quirky.” The smile was back in her voice as she spoke about her designs. “It’s the outrageous fabric and custom, hand-sewn embellishments that make them different. Sure, they could go out and spend a couple thousand on another designer handbag, but it wouldn’t make them feel the way mine do. I’ve had people tell me that my bags are an expression of who they are. It sends a message to the world that they’re different and not afraid to express it.”
“And you’re afraid if you do this deal you mentioned that you’d lose that?”
“I know I would.”
He could imagine her curled up on a non-descript sofa in a rented apartment with boxes all around her, covered with the brightly colored yo-yo quilt her mother made her when she was a teenager. “Baby, if you feel that strongly, just say no.”
“Can I afford to do that?” she whispered. “Would I be kissing my dream good-bye if I did?”
Dalton had never had to make a decision like this, so he couldn’t relate, but he could try to re-frame it for her. “Tell me about your dream. What does it look like, Soph?” He’d never asked her for specifics before. Before she’d surprised him with her decision to move, he assumed she was thrilled with her company’s upward trajectory and had no desire to expand beyond a national market for the time being.
&
nbsp; “It’s changed,” she said, as though she was thinking it through. “It’s evolved. So have I. When I first graduated, I thought I’d be happy designing one of a kind handbags from my little condo and selling them online. I was so excited the first month I didn’t have to dip into my savings.” She laughed. “When I started making enough in one month to cover my expenses for the entire year I thought I was living my dream.”
“So what changed?”
“I started struggling to keep up with the demand,” she said, as though she was recalling the events leading up to her decision to expand. “I couldn’t do it on my own anymore. I needed to hire people and train them. In the early days, a big part of my time was spent on quality control because I wanted to make sure that every piece leaving our studio looked as it would have if I’d been the one to make it.”
“Were you happy back then?” They’d been casual acquaintances then because Dalton spent the better part of the year on the road, so he knew little of the struggles Sophie had faced when building her business. By the time they started spending more time together she was already successful and her business was well-established.
“I was.” She was silent a long time before she said, “But not as happy as I was when it was just me, all alone, creating.” She giggled. “I remember I used to wake up early and go bed late, forget to eat or even shower because I was so excited about the creative process. I loved everything about it.”
“Tell me about it.” It had been a long time since he’d heard her sound so enthusiastic about anything, which told him her business may have outgrown her.
“Well…” She sighed wistfully. “I used to scour online looking for the perfect pieces from artisans and some embellishments I would make myself. Then I’d hand dye the fabric, including some of the leather. There was a definite learning curve there because I wanted something really specific and it was tough to achieve.”
“I can imagine.” He knew she didn’t need his input or insight now. She just needed a safe place to remember why she’d fallen in love with her business in the first place and how she could find her way back to her passion.
“But eventually I figured things out. I won’t deny there were a lot of highs and lows during that phase. Lots of tears and frustration, but lots of delighted squeals too. Good thing my neighbour was an artist too. She totally got me. That’s what kept me sane the first little while, having someone who thought the way I did that I could bounce ideas off of during the day, when I needed a little break.”
“What about Carly?” Dalton knew they’d been best friends since they were kids.
“She was great, but she was busy trying to build her own business and I didn’t want to burden her too much with my problems.”
“What happened to your neighbour?” Dalton knew a retired school teacher lived beside Sophie now and since she lived at the end of the hall, she only had one neighbour. “Where did your friend move?”
“She left to pursue her dream.” She swallowed repeatedly, as though she was overcome by emotion. “She met a guy at a coffee shop she used to go to. They bought a little house by the lake and got married. She has a baby now and paints all day. She says she’s never been happier. Her originals are sold in a few local galleries and the prints are sold online. I don’t think she makes a lot of money, but that was never her goal. She just wanted to do what she loved every day and be able to share her gift with the world.”
Dalton got the sense Sophie was coming to some of her own realizations as she remembered the fun she’d had during the early years. “Was that your goal?” he asked. “To make a lot of money?”
Sophie laughed. “No, I never really thought about the money, to be honest. Of course, once I started hiring employees that changed. I realized all these people were depending on me to put food on their table and I started to panic. Before long, I became obsessed with thoughts of growing the business so I wouldn’t have to worry about laying anyone off.”
Dalton loved that Sophie was so compassionate. He knew she was involved with several charities and gave her handbags away to dozens of galas every year who were trying to raise money for worthy causes. “But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“You said your goal wasn’t to make money, so what was your goal?”
“To create.” She said it so simply, as though it should have been obvious. “I was a designer. That’s all I ever wanted to be, from the time I was a little girl. I never had aspirations of running a multi-million dollar company. That just sort of happened.”
“Now that it has happened, are you happy, Soph?” When she didn’t respond, he knew he had to probe deeper, for her own good. “If you could go back to those early days when it was just you, alone in your apartment, making one handbag at a time, would you?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I never allowed myself to think about that.”
“Well you need to give yourself permission to at least think about it, sweetheart. This is your life and you deserve to be happy.”
Chapter Four
Dalton’s words kept drifting in and out of Sophie’s head as the panel of people from the department store tried to sell her on the idea of selling out. Am I happy? Is this what I want? Those questions kept filtering in and out of her head, taking her on a journey that scared and thrilled her at the same time.
She imagined herself living the kind of simple life her artist friend did. In a pretty little house on the water, with a separate studio, passing her days by letting her imagination guide her from one project to the next. No deadlines or suppliers to deal with. No payroll to meet or partners to argue with. Just her, alone with her fabric and sewing machine. At this moment, it sounded like the serenity she’d been seeking and never found on her last beach vacation.
“Well, you’ve certainly given us a lot to think about,” Jeremy said, giving her a pointed look.
Apparently she’d zoned out again. Oops. “Yes,” Sophie said, feeling she should add something to the conversation. “I certainly appreciate your interest in my handbags.”
The two gentleman who’d been leading the meeting exchanged a concerned look. “Miss Easton, if you’re having reservations, perhaps there’s something we can clarify for you?”
She smiled, reminding herself the executive wasn’t trying to be condescending, he was just accustomed to getting his own way. “I think you’ve made everything crystal clear. But the truth is I’ve never even considered mass producing my products, so I need time consider whether this approach is in the best interest of my brand.” She offered a tight smile when Jeremy glared at her from across the boardroom table. “I realize most designers would jump at an opportunity like this but I have to be honest, I fear this might be at odds with my creative vision for Easton’s.”
Jeremy chuckled, as though she’d made a joke, obviously trying to ease the tension in the room. “But of course Sophie realizes that a company’s vision has to change. As it grows it evolves into something different, something better.”
“Bigger isn’t always better,” Sophie said to Jeremy. She knew it was important for her to set some boundaries with him now, before he got the impression he could speak on her behalf in meetings like this, simply because he was her minority partner. “I feel slow growth has been a big part of our success. We’ve been able to manage the growth while continuing to produce the quality products our customers have come to expect.”
“If it’s the quality control you’re concerned about,” Mr. Darby, the vice president of the department stores merchandising department said, “I can assure you that your people would be able to do random checks to make sure you’re satisfied with our output.”
“I appreciate that,” Sophie said, anxious to conclude the meeting. “As Jeremy said, you’ve given us a lot to think about, but we will need some time to discuss this.” She stood offering her hand to the three men and one woman who’d come to make their pitch. “We’ll be in touch soon. Thank you for your time.”
/>
Sophie didn’t even bother to look at Jeremy before she left the room. She didn’t need any confirmation that he was annoyed with her. He’d made it clear he wanted this deal to happen and expected her to go along with it, no questions asked.
Her new assistant, Bev, looked up as soon as she walked in. “Miss Easton, I’m glad you’re back. There have been quite a few calls for you. I left the messages on your desk. Oh, and your lunch appointment got pushed back to 1:30. I hope that’s okay? It meant I had to shift your-”
“Bev,” Sophie interrupted sitting on the corner of the other woman’s desk. “Have you worked for Jeremy for a long time?”
“Excuse me?” she asked, blinking. Her silver-framed reading glasses slipped down her nose, forcing her to regard Sophie above the rim.
Bev was Sophie’s mother’s age, likely just past the age of retirement and she wondered if she’d stayed on because Jeremy offered her some kind of incentive. She wanted to believe that she may have misjudged her new partner, that her own fears and insecurities may have been the cause for her doubt, not Jeremy himself.
“I’m just curious about whether he’s a good boss.”
Bev licked her dry lips, her eyes downcast, confirming Sophie’s fears. “He’s fine. I’m lucky to have this job. I hope you’re happy with my work so far, Miss Easton? If there’s anything you need-”
“Please don’t misunderstand,” Sophie said, touching Bev’s forearm to soothe her. “I think you’re great. And I don’t mean to pry, I just…” She didn’t want to sound like a pushover, but she wanted her new assistant to understand her business model. “Now that you’re working for me directly, I want you to be able to trust me, and I want to trust you.”
“You can, Miss Easton.”
Sophie smiled. “Please call me Sophie.” She knew Jeremy believed in formality and propriety in the workplace, but just because she now occupied office space in the building he owned didn’t mean she’d let him dictate her actions.
Possession (Texas Titans #8) Page 4