by Lynn Steward
“I’ll be ready,” Dana laughed.
“Good. I’ll see you then. We’ll have time to drop Wills and your things at my apartment before meeting the Bauers at Carrousel. Miss you.”
“Miss you, too. Bye.”
Helen wasn’t on board with the boutique, at least not yet, but for Dana, the day—indeed, her life—was shaping up just fine. Her spirits were high, and she moved on to a meeting of buyers in the executive conference room.
Chapter Eighteen
As soon as Patti heard Jack’s key in the lock of the front door of their apartment, she poured herself a glass of wine and bourbon on the rocks for Jack. Jack entered, dropped his briefcase by the door, and kissed his wife on the cheek. Patti recalled how, back in Houston, Jack had always greeted her with a warm smile every evening and kissed her on the lips. She handed him the glass of bourbon and slipped her arm around his waist.
Jack had seemed so much happier in Texas, and she continued to believe that, at least in part, his mood might be caused by the abrupt change in their surroundings. The weather was cold in New York City, and sunlight was absent for days at a time. It was a stark contrast from the long, warm days in Houston.
“How was work?” she asked as she led Jack into the living room, where they both sat on a couch facing a large window that offered sweeping East River views. The lights of distant buildings were beginning to wink on against the twilight sky.
“Long,” he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
That was something else that bothered Patti. Jack now spoke little, and when he did, it was often in short phrases or sometimes just a word or two.
Patti placed her right hand on Jack’s left shoulder and gently massaged it. His muscles tensed immediately, and he leaned away from her after less than a minute. Patti retained her composure, but pulling away from her physically had also become a frequent habit of late.
“I’m preparing a special dinner,” she announced, motioning to the candlelit table in the adjoining dining room. “Your favorite. Prime rib.”
Jack sat up straight and opened his eyes. He was on the verge of saying, “Thanks, but I’d rather make it an early evening and turn in after a quick bite.” Thinking better of it, he smiled weakly. “That sounds great. I’m really hungry.”
Patti took a deep breath. Why was she so nervous about talking with Jack? Shouldn’t she be able to say anything to him? It felt as if she’d made an appointment to speak with her own husband.
“Jack, remember when I told you this morning that I wanted to talk about something when you got home?”
“Huh? Oh—yes, but can it wait ’til after dinner?”
“No, Jack. You already look like you’re falling asleep, and I don’t want to wait. This has been weighing heavily on me for weeks.”
Jack furrowed his brow. “Is everything okay? I mean, you’re not sick, are you?”
“I’m fine,” Patti said. “Actually, it’s you I’m worried about. You come home late on most nights, and you’re usually exhausted. We hardly talk anymore, and you just don’t seem happy. What’s wrong, Jack? Please tell me what’s going on.”
Jack was keenly aware of how observant his wife was. In point of fact, he’d known that this conversation was coming sooner or later, so he braced himself, already knowing how he was going to answer Patti’s every question.
“It’s the company,” he replied. “Opening this office has been so draining.”
Patti’s nervousness had dissipated. She was suddenly annoyed, and she shook her head slowly as she spoke with candor and directness. “You’ve been telling me that for months now. I know the move has been difficult, but we’ve been living here since January, and your father recently told me that your office is humming as smoothly as a Rolls Royce. I think you had more pressure before we moved—when you were traveling every week between Houston and New York—but that never made you sullen and withdrawn. Something’s different.” Patti looked directly at her husband. “You’re changing right before my eyes. You’re hiding something, and I want to know what it is. If you can’t give me a plausible reason for the change that’s come over you, then frankly I think you need to see a doctor and get a checkup.”
Jack sat up straight and faced Patti. His serious demeanor appeared genuine. “I’m really sorry, honey. I guess I haven’t been much of a husband lately. That’s why I’ve been thinking … “ Jack paused, as if searching for a way to deliver his next words. “Thinking that maybe you should go back to Houston for a few months. Connect with your friends again. I’m sure they could use your help with the summer zoo ball.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding, Jack. The very idea is ludicrous!”
“Hear me out,” he said. “The production of our equipment is being held up by several suppliers around the world. They’re really dragging their feet. How can Hartlen Response possibly respond rapidly to an oil spill when we can’t even manufacture our equipment? I don’t want to be a burden on you. When production is back on track, you could return to a more enthusiastic spouse.”
Patti was speechless for several seconds, stuck in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me about the suppliers? You’ve always kept me informed about what’s going on in the company. We’ve never had any secrets from each another, just like Ralph and Sandy. And besides, I have a job, or have you forgotten that I work at the Altman Foundation? You never even bother to ask me how things are going, by the way, or how my day has gone. I just can’t quit and say I’m going back to Houston. What am I supposed to tell them? That my husband is busy and making me take a sabbatical?”
“No, Patti. You’ve got it all wrong. I’m just thinking about you. I want you to be happy.”
“I’ll be happy when I get my husband back.,” Patti said tersely as she stood. “I’m going to get dinner ready.”
Jack sighed and sipped his bourbon. “I’m sorry, honey. It was a stupid suggestion. I can’t wait to tear into the prime rib.”
Patti, however, was not in the mood for conversation. They ate in silence, after which Patti washed the dishes, holding back tears. When she finished, she walked into the den and saw Jack asleep in front of the television.
She turned out the lights and walked down the hall to their bedroom, but she couldn’t sustain her anger at Jack even though she felt like screaming. Something was definitely wrong—that much was certain—but she loved him despite the mysterious and eccentric behavior he’d displayed since moving to New York. Just as importantly, she knew that he loved her. She had no intention of going back to Houston. The fact that Jack would propose such an idea was proof that something was clouding his reasoning. It was clear that he needed help and, for now, her own needs had to be put aside. She would stand by her husband and see him through whatever was troubling him.
She only hoped that his difficulties would resolve quickly. Living in the dark was becoming harder by the day.
Chapter Nineteen
Mark knocked on the door of 8 Sniffen Court at a little after five. “One of your neighbors was opening the gate and thought I had a trustworthy face. I’m running a bit early.”
“Early is good, but give me a few more minutes,” Dana said, admitting Mark into the carriage house. “I just got home and I’m still getting Wills’ things together.”
Mark took Dana into his arms and gave her a long, passionate kiss. “Okay,” he said, “but we have to keep our priorities straight. It was a long weekend, and I’m glad you’re coming home with me.” He petted Wills, who was demanding his attention. “And you, too, little fella. We have a date in the park early tomorrow morning.” He turned back to Dana. “Can I help with his things?”
“You can clean his water bowl in the kitchen and put it into the canvas bag on the counter. His dry food is in the pantry, and his leash and toys are already packed. I’ll be upstairs getting the rest of my things together. Don’t worry. I travel light.”
“The true sign of an adventurer,” Mark said.
Fiftee
n minutes later, they were in a cab headed to the Upper West Side.
• • •
Dana entered Mark’s apartment and was surprised by its sleek, imposing style. The expansive, loft-like space, unusual in a pre-war building, was created by removing a wall between the living and dining rooms, displaying five bare casement windows that framed breathtaking views of Central Park. The rich wood floors were uncarpeted, and the white walls were adorned with abstract Japanese art. There was a brown suede sofa, two tan leather Bauhaus chairs, and an original marble fireplace. Uncluttered teak tables displayed art books, and the bedroom wing was lined with bookcases.
“What are you thinking?” Mark asked as he observed Dana’s expression. “That we’re chalk and cheese, as the Brits like to say?”
“Did you bring in the Brits just to make me feel at home?” Dana asked as she put her arms around Mark.
“I’ll hang the Union Jack if you stay all week.”
“You won’t have to do that,” Dana laughed. “I rather like your cool moderne style. And your home is appealing, too. Actually, I find it very peaceful.”
“Thank you, but I think you’ll bring the warmth that’s been missing,” Mark said as he kissed her again.
“I’m glad I’m here,” Dana said, smiling and giving him a hug.
“I’ll get Wills some dinner,” Mark said, “while you hang up your clothes. Then we better get going. Carrousel is cross-town on Third Avenue at seventy-fifth.
• • •
“Welcome, Mark!” Irwin Bauer said, standing up at his table in the center of the bistro. “My wife Susan is running late, but why don’t we order a bottle of wine while we wait. I’m sure she won’t be long.”
“Irwin, this is Dana McGarry. Dana, Irwin Bauer.”
Irwin extended his hand before sitting again. “It’s my pleasure,” he said. “Mark has told me so many things about you, all of them good, by the way.”
“I simply tell the truth,” Mark said.
Irwin was forty-two years old and had been a lifelong friend of Mark’s as well as a neighbor while growing up on Central Park West. Their families had attended the same temple and they’d been classmates at Bronx High School of Science. After graduation Mark attended the Wharton School while Irwin studied at Syracuse. Both joined their fathers’ self-made businesses and had remained close throughout the years.
“My wife Susan drove in today for a board meeting,” Irwin said. “I usually take the train since it’s much faster, but this worked out perfectly. We decided this morning not to fight the rush hour traffic and were planning to stay in town for dinner. In fact, I was going to give Mark a call to join us, but he beat me to it.”
The waiter brought a bottle of chardonnay to the table and poured a sample into Irwin’s glass. “Very nice,” Irwin said, motioning for the waiter to pour a glass for everyone.
“Irwin’s wife is a college admissions consultant,” Mark explained.
“What an interesting and rewarding career,” Dana said, “but it can’t be an easy one. I’m sure it entails much more than just helping students navigate the complex application process.”
“Indeed it does,” Irwin laughed. “The moms and dads need counseling first so that they have realistic expectations. Susan claims it’s an art more than an exact science—matching people and their goals with the right college or university. We live in Cedarhurst, and Susan has been able to build a thriving practice in the surrounding Five Towns, which was convenient while the children were growing up.”
“I grew up on Long Island, too.” Dana said. “In Hewlett Harbor, not far from you.”
“Are you related to Dan McGarry? I took the train with him for years before he moved to Connecticut.”
“No relation. My maiden name is Martignetti.”
“Really!” Irwin said. “I would have never guessed!”
“It’s a long story—and a bit complicated” Mark said. “Actually, Dana acts British but thinks Yiddish.”
“Is that because of your career in the garment center?” Irwin teased.
“Everyone in New York and Long Island, for that matter, is a little Jewish,” Dana said. “But my mother did find Jewish origins on her father’s side when she visited his town in Italy a few years ago.”
“Well, there’s always been a closeness between the Italians and the Jews,” Irwin said, “and it looks like it’s working well for the both of you. From what I’m hearing, you two have a lot in common.”
“Surprisingly, we do,” Dana said, smiling at Mark. “But we’re pushing the envelope and—”
“A common practice of Mark’s,” Irwin said.
“Mark’s convinced me it’s time for a new challenge, and I’m starting riding lessons at Claremont. I just want to be good enough to meander with him in the park.”
“Between Claremont and Mark, you’ll be show jumping with Amanda before you know it! But it seems you’re balancing another challenge at B. Altman. Mark told me that your idea for a private label collection is falling on deaf ears.”
“I filled Irwin in this morning on what we talked about over the weekend,” Mark said. “Including the in-store boutique.”
“My divisional manager isn’t wildly enthusiastic about any of it,” Dana said, sipping her chardonnay. “She dismissed it as being too complicated. In a way, I’m blaming myself for not being better prepared before I presented a completely new concept to her. I didn’t have a manufacturer lined up, and I couldn’t answer her basic questions.”
Mark and Irwin once again exchanged knowing glances.
“Allow me to reintroduce myself,” Irwin said with a mischievous smile. “I’m Irwin Bauer, and my company has been manufacturing menswear for forty years. I think your idea is fantastic.”
Dana’s jaw dropped. “Mark, you’re amazing! When you think of an idea, it’s already done! I can’t believe this!”
“Let me tell you why Mark was able to pique my interest so quickly,” Irwin continued. “Aside from the fact that we’ve been friends forever and I’m somewhat obliged to listen to him.”
Both men laughed heartily.
“I told you I knew someone who might be willing to help, didn’t I?” Mark said.
“You did,” Dana said, “but I thought we might be talking weeks before you could line anything up. It’s only been two days.”
“I’ll be candid,” Irwin resumed. “I’m currently overstocked with fabric. Gray flannel, tweeds—even camel hair since orders were so short last year. With men running around casually dressed with epaulettes and unconstructed jackets, my business isn’t what it should be. So when Mark called me this morning and told me about your idea, I thought why waste the fabric.”
“What do think about manufacturing ladieswear?” Dana said. “Is that something you’d be interested in?”
Irwin leaned forward. “I hear you have a closet-full of Jaeger clothing, Dana. Bring in your favorites and let’s see what we can do. My head tailor is a master fitter and has a good eye. We’ll tweak the patterns any way you want. Who knows? B. Altman may become my best account.”
Dana’s face lit up with unexpected enthusiasm. “I can’t tell you how flattered I am that you’re willing to entertain my—I mean our—idea,” Dana said, acknowledging Mark’s encouragement. “I’ve got to be honest, though. Getting into B. Altman might be an uphill battle.”
Irwin simply smiled. “Mark seems to have the utmost faith in you, my dear. Having faith in someone or something—that means everything to me, both in business and friendship.”
Dana felt as if she were falling for Mark all over again.
“Mr. Senger here is of the opinion that most uphill battles can be won,” Dana said. “And we have one more chance to get it through. I can present the entire concept to someone on the executive level who I think will be very receptive to it, especially since I’m prepared to give him the name of an established manufacturer.”
“Excellent!” Irwin beamed. “This is just the thing to
jumpstart a stagnant business. I trust Mark’s instincts. Always have. But now that I’ve met you, I also trust yours. I think the British spin you put on this takes it over the top. Boutiques are popping up everywhere, and this is an innovative way for a department store to compete. If you ask me, it would be the perfect platform.”
“I’ve felt that from the beginning,” Dana said, hoping she wouldn’t wake up and discover she’d been dreaming. I was able to visualize every detail as soon as I stepped into Jaeger.”
“I can tell that from your enthusiasm,” Irwin said, “but why don’t we put business aside for a moment, at least until Susan gets here since she’ll want to hear all about it. I’d like to propose a toast.”
Irwin ordered a bottle of champagne, which arrived at the table five minutes later. Raising his glass, he proclaimed, “To a happy and profitable business venture!”
Mark leaned over and kissed Dana on the lips. “I told you this was worth pursuing.”
“And you were right,” Dana admitted.
“Am I interrupting anything?” asked a female voice.
“Susan!” Irwin said, standing. “How are you, honey? Here, have a seat and join the celebration.”
“Susan, good to see you,” Mark said as he stood and leaned over to kiss her hello.
“You, too,” Susan said as she looked at Mark and Dana, whose kiss had clearly caught her off guard. “What are we celebrating?” she asked, sitting next to Irwin.
“Susan,” Irwin began, “this is Dana McGarry. Dana’s a buyer at B. Altman. Let me give you the short version. She and Mark have had nothing less than a brainstorm. I’m going to manufacture an exclusive line of tailored womenswear for B. Altman. The private label merchandise will be sold in a stand-alone boutique in the store. Here, honey,” Irwin said as he handed Susan a glass of champagne. “You’re just in time for the toast.”