The building had her name on it. CLARE'S WORLD. Of course it did. It was her empire, built up from potholders sold at parties to a multibillion dollar "lifestyle industry." She understood people and knew how to get or make what they wanted. Her pots and pans were in the most upscale houseware stores. Her gardening boots were sold at Z-Mart. There were three fashion lines, each aimed at a different demographic: Cowgirl, East Sider, Family Values. Women were her bread and butter.
A receptionist, dressed fashionably, ushered Dr. Casey Darden discreetly into a private elevator that rose only to the penthouse office suite. Casey was meeting Clare's assistant Melissa for a quick briefing before they made their "presentation' to Clare herself. He had never met the remarkable Clare. Her reputation for being hard as nails under velvet intimidated everyone on the 'project.'
This had been the most difficult client situation that Casey had faced so far (with the possible exception of facing off with the devil himself.) Melissa Brand had first contacted him many weeks ago. Even though it was supposed to be on the QT there were many staff members involved. Most of them thought they were testing a new product line, and in fact, they very well might be, if the presentation was effective.
Casey might have wished that Melissa were his client. Melissa was easily five ten, with an athletic body that was model slim face to face; but as soon as she turned sideways a remarkable perky ass asked to be patted. From the way Melissa scanned him from mousse to wingtips in a cool and relaxed manner he was convinced she needed no therapy.
"Follow me," she murmured and moved gracefully down a corridor lit by invisible light and decorated by floral abstracts that seemed to glow in their niches. She ushered him into a conference room whose one wall was the city itself, gleaming evening lights all the way to the Boston harbor islands. The "development team", all dressed conservatively, were seated at a table formed from a single irregular slab of magnificently grained wood.
Arrayed behind them in an alcove were a number of curious objects on shelves, platforms and a velvet-covered table.
"Doctor Darden has asked me to be the lead this evening on the products we have chosen and to aid in the presentation to Clare. While I recognize that each of you has spent serious effort in researching, choosing, even developing these products, we will trust Dr. Darden, and of course Clare to make the choices as to which reach the market with the Clare Intimates label. You all are aware that this product is a departure and a risk.
"Of course we hope these new items will complement the line of intimate lingerie and sensual oils that may be used in erotic encounters. But heretofore we have not sought to provide products specifically for 'bedroom recreation'. Please be prepared to give strong reasons why you believe in the product you have chosen."
Worried murmurs flowed around the table. Melissa had started pacing and Casey noticed a fine line of moisture above her well-carved upper lip. Everyone knew that Melissa had exclusive access to Clare. Rumors flew that they were lovers, but no one had ever seen so much as a touch that suggested such a relationship.
Melissa led Casey off to the side.
"As is our custom we introduce new concepts to Clare in response to her own leadings. Some of these ...some of her suggestions may be ... oblique, no more than a hint, or a direction suggested by a hue, a tune, an animal, a city, an island. When we manage to decipher these innuendoes and provide substantial possibilities Clare will endorse them wholeheartedly and make them part of her own life, not to mention endorsing impressive investment and development. If we misjudge her mood we will all be fired and she will do her best to besmirch your reputation. Let us just say no one in this room has ever misinterpreted a Clare suggestion. But most here have only been with the organization a few months... Do you understand?
Casey nodded. Melissa did not seem eager to seek his opinion.
"One more critical factor. Clare does not allow CLARE'S WORLD to sell any product she would not use herself.
"Supporting this product we envision an exclusive club, Clare's Club that will provide concierges to offer consultation for women wishing to explore ...."
An almost imperceptible belltone chimed and everyone in the room sat up straighter and applied polite smiles to their mouths. A panel hushed open revealing the glints of expensive furnishing and objets d'art. The woman who glided across the room wore a perfect mole-grey tailored suit of her own design.
No one moved. Casey, rebelliously remained relaxed, casual.
Clare barely glanced at him as she moved to the exhibition area, calmly strolling among the objects. There was quite a range; elegant glass cylinders, small mechanical devices and an impressive carved hobby-horse. And then there was the mechanical 'spider' in the center of the room. Occasionally she drew a perfectly manicured forefinger along an object; cocked her head as something puzzled her; shook her head almost imperceptibly; let a tiny smile raise the corner of her lip. She stopped, grey eyes on her staff at the table.
"Thank you everyone. You may go."
A small disappointed murmur arose from the assembly.
"Please have your resignations on Ms. Brand's desk before you leave the building."
A raised palm quelled any further sound. The crew filed out. Melissa lingered.
"Melissa? You too may go."
Again the elegant raised hand. Melissa headed for the exit.
"Oh Melissa, please prepare your resignation also. But don't leave the building. I think I will need you."
Casey kept his breath low and relaxed. Clare turned to the windows and looked out at the city.
"You are thinking I have fired them all like the imperious bitch I am reputed to be."
Casey said nothing and felt himself gain a point.
"Actually, they expect this. It is routine. If the presentation goes well most of them will remain employed and receive not only a bonus, but a percentage of the sales from the new line."
Casey looked her directly in the eyes as she turned. It pleased him to notice she wasn't used to this.
"Of course, if this goes badly we start fresh. There are so many who would die to work under me."
Casey still had nothing to say.
"And so, it is in your hands, Mr. gigolo doctor, or perhaps we should say I am in your hands. Have you ever had a tiger by the tail, Dr. Darden? May I offer you a drink?"
"Will you join me?"
"That is the question, isn't it?"
She waved her hand at a panel of blonde wood and it opened to reveal an elegant bar. An ice bucket rose from its depths with a champagne bottle in it. Clare plucked two champagne flutes from their rack.
"Would you do the honors?"
Casey took the bottle and dried it on a crisp linen towel. In one motion he removed the cork without spilling a whiff of foam and poured them each a glass. The wine was tinted the pale chartreuse Clare was famous for applying to furniture, fabrics and dinnerware. Clare raised her glass.
"From my own vineyards outside of Saint-Memmie, and therefore a true Champagne. Normally, I never mix alcohol with business decisions. However, this is somewhat different. Since I would almost invariably sip some champagne before intimate activity, this is a staging of the proper circumstances. A handsome gentleman is also important."
She ran her eyes down to the creases in his pants and raised them to his face.
"Though not always essential."
"Correct."
"May I propose a toast, then, to a successful joint venture?"
"If it amuses you to call it that."
"It does."
"So be it. To our joint venture."
They drank. Casey was moved to comment on the wine.
"I like this. It is neither sweet nor tart. An excellent blend."
He deliberately let his eyes explore her body.
"It should be at three thousand dollars a bottle. Will you have some more?"
"Perhaps later. For now a certain clarity of mind should aid me in presenting the materials."
