Chapter 14
Alex heard the phone first and tried to ignore it. After a moment he realized it was not his phone, which means that it was Samantha's. Despite an overwhelming desire to pretend that he did not hear it, he suspected that Samantha might not want to ignore it.
"Whose?" She asked sleepily.
"Yours," he said pulling himself up and looking for the clock. "No one I know would call me at six-thirty in the morning, especially if they want me to do anything for them."
By the time Samantha had pulled herself out of bed, the phone had stopped ringing and there was relative quiet in the apartment. Alex thought he heard it chirp but did not know if that was before or after Samantha found it.
"No surprise who it was," she said sourly as she keyed in the passcode for the voicemail and tried to crawl back under the covers.
Alex could not hear the message clearly but there was no question that Rachel was less than happy this morning. He thought, ruefully, that if she had gotten another couple of hours of sleep and got up like normal people, she would have been in a much better mood.
"What does she want?" Alex asked after he heard the phone click closed, his own eyes already closed, striving for sleep he knew would not come now despite being exhausted.
"The bitch," Samantha said, tears in her voice. Alex rolled over to see her clutching the phone in her hands, her cheeks wet. "She wants to know why I am not answering my door that she has been pounding on for the last 10 minutes and expects me to meet her in the lobby by seven without fail so that we can discuss my complete failure to achieve the goals she set for me."
"Sounds like a winner," Alex said gently prying the phone from her hands and putting his arms around her, pulling her towards him. "Call her back, tell her you are at the Café Du Lac and it would make more sense for her to join you there then it would for you to come back to the hotel."
"Where is the Café Du Lac?" she asked, sniffling slightly.
"About three blocks from here. In either case, it will take her a half-hour to get there. If she doesn't go for it, then it will take you at least a half-hour to get back to the hotel."
"And why would I be there?"
"Because we have been having breakfast there every morning," he said with a smirk, "Even though we only had breakfast there once, well, twice actually, but I don't count wearing my breakfast as the same as eating it." She hit him with a pillow and then fell on him and kissed him.
"Feel better?" he asked.
"Yes. What is the address of the place? You know I can never find it on my own."
Alex wrote the address down on a piece of paper and slipped into the bathroom while she made her call. He was just finishing when she came in.
"No dice, she wants me there," she said dejectedly and somewhat tearfully.
"Well, jump in the shower and be quick. I can have us to the hotel in about 20 minutes and you can tell her you were not going to walk out on your breakfast. I will be right back."
"Where are you going?" she asked as he pulled his pants on and plucked a t-shirt from a drawer.
"To get you breakfast. If she thinks you have eaten already, you are not likely to get food, at least until your meeting with Monique at ten. I will make sure Michelle lays in a danish or two for you just in case. Now get into the shower and I will be back before you are done."
Alex let himself out quickly and Samantha started her shower. In the ten minutes it took her to do a quick once over and dry off, he had returned with a pair of croissants and coffee, buttering them and feeding her as she combed her hair and got dressed. In less than twenty minutes, they were out the door and onto the Metro, heading in the direction of the Marriott.
"OK, smarty pants, how do I handle the 'failure' to meet her goals?" she asked as they jostled with the morning commuters.
"That will take a little more finesse," he said thinking for a moment. "I would approach it this way. You tell her the vendors were not offering you their best goods and you found better items that you feel are more likely to sell in the United States than what she was trying to get you to pick up. Run with the idea that the people you are talking to are smaller, lesser known vendors and that translates to a better price per unit. Their unknown nature will make the snobs snap them up because they will not be the same as what everyone else has. It comes down to simple marketing really. It might mean that someone has to rethink a campaign, but I think that is a small price to pay. If she really insists on the items, then you can go together and maybe she will have better luck, but I suspect she will encounter the same problems. In the first case you learn and in the second case she learns. Either way, it is all good. I would make sure you talk to Monique before you go to any of the people you visited earlier this week. I think Rachel is jealous, that is why she is pulling this little stunt."
"You don't know Rachel. She is not the type that learns lessons. She teaches them. Why would you think she is jealous?"
"She is in awe of Monique, that much was plain last night at dinner. Not only did Monique come to you last night, but you introduced her to Rachel by addressing her by her first name. Nothing wrong with that from Monique's view, but for someone as self-possessed as Rachel struck me as, it was probably the worst thing you could have done, because it meant you were Monique's friend. Your first visit here and you are already friends with one of the most sought after designers in the country and you are introducing her to the senior buyer like she was an old school friend. Not even the mother of a friend. I don't think that sat well at all."
Samantha stood staring at him, ignoring the crush of passengers that were getting on and off around her. "Sought after? I knew she was good, but that good?"
"I wasn't kidding about Fendi. Or Karl," he said with a smirk.
"I still don't know who you mean."
"Lagerfeld, Karl Lagerfeld. Of Channel and his own line?" He watched as the light bulb went on and then a second one.
"You've met him?" she asked with awe in her voice.
"I have met him, yes, but I am not likely to pick up the phone and invite him to dinner. I honestly don't know him that well. Monique has parties from time to time at her estate. Or rather, she used to and since I was engaged to her daughter, well, I was part of the family and included in the introductions."
"But no more," Samantha said.
"I am no longer engaged to Josephine, no, but I am probably more a part of the family than she is at the moment. This is your stop. I have my phone with me and I will be in the neighbourhood somewhere. Bon chance chérie," he said, kissing her quickly as she stepped off the train and joined the crowd heading for the exit.
Samantha stepped out of the station and slid to one side out of the crowd to catch her breath before stepping off towards the Marriot. There were a number of mainly working class Parisians on the street already, some making their way to cafes and others towards the office buildings and other places of business that supported the bustling City of Lights. The sun would not shine today and brighten the dark stone. It was dark and overcast and a fitful start at a sprinkling rain had already started as she and Alex walked from the apartment to the Metro. By the time she reached the doors of the hotel, the sprinkle had become a steady drizzle. She hoped Alex had remembered to bring an umbrella with him and smiled at the thought.
Rachel was waiting for her in the lobby. Dressed in a tailored suit with heels and stockings, she seemed wildly out of place next to Samantha who was wearing khaki pants, blouse and loafers. Alex had bought her the shoes. A present, he had called them, to help her gain a modicum of respect in the circles she was traveling, and when she was not looking he had also put in the blouse. She appreciated the shoes, they were comfortable and in her travels she noticed that she did seem to blend in with the rest of the people she dealt with. Even Monique seemed to tend towards the more casual style that Samantha was wearing rather than the grossly formal look that her boss had chosen.
"It certainly took you long enough," Rachel said, anger tingeing her voice this morning in contrast to dinner the night before.