Intoxication 4

Intoxication

By

Inanimate77

Allison sat nervously at the conference room table. Although well prepared for the meeting, she knew that her job depended on keeping this contract. It had been little over a year since she joined the startup, Fab Fashions, and so far her academic achievements had not translated into professional success.

This led her to being a bit of an emotional wreck. Allison loved Fab Fashions and while she was not artistic enough to be a designer, she stood by their mission. While most brands were constantly churning out cheap items, Fab Fashions believed in sustainability. The company's mission focused on sourcing high quality fabrics to make items that stood the test of time.

Of course the problem with this strategy centered around cost. High quality garments didn't come cheap, but Fab Fashions didn't want to target only high end consumers. The company believed that it needed to change customer buying behavior. That had been a hard sell with retailers who preferred cheaper items that flew off the shelf.

With her business focus, Allison was sure that she could help Fab Fashions succeed, but over the course of the year the opposite had been true. As one of three saleswomen at the company, Allison had lost nearly 20% of her book of business. Her colleagues were not doing much better and the result was that the company was deep in the red.

Allison shifted uncomfortably in her chair, the weight of the situation felt heavy on her shoulders. She ran a hand through her long chestnut hair, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. Today was make or break for Fab Fashions, and she needed to exude confidence despite the turmoil within.

Determined to make a good impression, Allison had meticulously chosen her outfit that morning. She wore a sleek navy blue skirt suit, tailored to perfection to project authority and professionalism. Beneath the blazer, she had on a crisp white blouse with a subtle pattern that added a touch of personality without being too distracting. The ultimate goal today was to convey to Vivian White, or Viv as she was known in the industry, that Fab Fashions was both well run and fashion forward.

Her legs were clad in nude tights. Allison loved the designer hosiery because it elongated her legs while giving her more confidence. Finally, to complete the ensemble, Allison had opted for conservative black leather heels. The chunky heel looked professional but provided her with enough stability to navigate her surroundings with confidence. Not always comfortable in heels, the last thing Allison wanted to do was trip while talking to the buyer.

Dressed to impress, Allison was ready to take on the world, but each passing second that she waited slowly began to erode her confidence. Viv was running late. As owner of a fashion forward regional retailer, Viv always ran late. She had a tremendous amount of clout in the industry. Making a late entry was all part of her strategy. Some might even call it her calling card before kicking off any negotiation, and Viv was known to be a very tough negotiator.

Allison had run the internal numbers before coming and realized that she could only reduce her prices by 5% while still turning a small profit. Anything more meant losing money. It was a horrible dilemma. Viv's company made up almost half of her remaining book. Losing the account would devastate the company, but selling at a loss would cripple the brand as well.

As the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the tension in the conference room became palpable. Small beads of sweat formed on Allison's brow, the first telltale sign of her increasing nervousness. It didn't matter that the conference room was actually rather cold. Even though she had goosebumps on her arms, she could still feel the perspiration gathering at the base of her spine. Thankfully she remembered to wear a jacket. Otherwise the sweat would be visible at the base of her blouse.

In addition to the sweat, a familiar sensation crept up on her; the itchiness in her feet that always seemed to accompany moments of heightened nervousness. This was by far the worst. The more she thought about it, the more they itched. The sensation grew and grew until she was unable to bear the discomfort any longer forcing Allison to discreetly slip off her heels under the table and curled her toes in an effort to alleviate the itch that had begun to gnaw at the soles of her feet. She subtly rubbed her feet against the plush carpet, hoping to find some relief without drawing attention to herself.

It was just her luck that at that very moment the door to the conference room swung open and in walked Vivian White. Allison's customer was in her mid-40s. Everything about the woman exuded an air of power and authority that seemed to command respect. Her sharp eyes quickly assessed the room, taking in every detail with a glance that missed nothing. It took all of Allison's mental fortitude to maintain her composure as the two women made eye contact.

As Vivian made her way to the head of the conference room table, Allison got a better view of her outfit. The woman was dressed impeccably in a sleek black pantsuit that accentuated her lean figure. Her dark hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense bun, highlighting her high cheekbones. But it was her expression that truly set her apart; a perfect example of resting bitch face that made it clear she meant business. Allison had spoken to Viv a few times on the phone. Those calls had been hard enough, but the moment Allison saw the woman's expression, she realized that she was out of her element when it came to this negotiation. This was going to be a disaster.

Allison rose up from her seat to shake Vivian's hand. "Good afternoon, Vivian. Thank you for meeting with me today," Allison said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the nerves knotting in her stomach. Vivian's handshake was firm, reminding Allison exactly who was in charge during their discussion. Viv waited until the saleswoman took a seat before joining her at the table. As they settled into their seats, Vivian wasted no time in getting down to business.

With an unwavering gaze Vivian fixed her penetrating eyes on Allison. "No need for any pleasantries. Let's get straight to it," she began, her voice remaining cool and composed. "I've been reviewing our sales data and I'm concerned about the performance of your brand.."

Allison's heart sank as she braced herself for what was about to come. Vivian continued, "While I appreciate the quality of your clothing line, it's no secret that it comes with a premium price tag that deters many buyers at my stores. The reality is that your brand is taking up valuable floor space and not not generating comparable returns to the other fashion lines we carry."

None of this news really surprised Allison, but hearing the words directly from Viv really brought the reality of the situation home. She was either going to lose this contract or Fab Fashions was going to be operating at a loss. She attempted to interject, "While that's true our stats show a growing loyal customer base. We are building repeat buyers."

Vivian arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, cutting Allison off mid-sentence. "Loyalty is all well and good," she said, her tone icy, "but loyalty doesn't pay the bills. I need to see results, Allison. I need to see numbers that justify keeping your line in my stores."

There it was. Fab Fashions could not escape the facts. Allison wanted to interrupt her customer to make another point, but realized that this would likely only make things worse.

Vivian continued speaking, "The economics of this partnership are simply not working. If this is going to work, Fab Fashions is going to need to make some concessions to our..." Viv paused for a second as she lost her train of thought. Her mind suddenly felt a bit hazy.

Staring back at her, Allison felt like the woman was intentionally holding her in suspense. Right when Viv was about to make her demand she just stopped talking. Even her expression had changed from her resting bitch to just plain confused.

This had never happened to Vivian, but even after gently shaking her head and blinking her eyes, she couldn't remember what she was about to say. Instead she noticed an aroma, a strange scent. It reminded her of vinegar. Although quite unpleasant, the more Viv inhaled the strange odor, the more she seemed to crave it. It appeared to be having a drug-like effect on her, clouding her mind while providing a feeling of euphoria.

Something was wrong. Instead of the dread she had been feeling about losing Vivian's business, Allison began to worry that something had happened to her customer. Did she have a stroke? "Vivian, are you alright?"

Allison's words seemed to snap Viv out of her stupor enough for her to respond to the saleswoman. "Yes Allison, I'm fine."

However, Vivian did not appear fine. Realizing that her buyer had lost her train of thought, Allison attempted to move the conversation along. "You were saying something about changes to the contract."

Vivian shook her head again, trying to clear the fog that seemed to have settled in her mind. The strange aroma still lingered in the air, its effects weaving a hazy veil over her thoughts. She couldn't quite pinpoint where the smell was coming from, but it seemed to be emanating from somewhere close by.

Not sure what was going on and uncomfortable with the silence Allison continued speaking. "Vivian, I understand your concerns, and I am willing to make adjustments to our contract to ensure a mutually beneficial partnership. Perhaps we can explore new marketing strategies together or offer exclusive deals for your stores."

The anxiety within Allison continued to build. The silence was awful. Was this some sort of new negotiating tactic to force her to make concessions without Viv even needing to speak? Part of her just wanted to run away. Allison's feet felt like they would never stop itching. She rubbed them so hard against the carpeted floor that she felt a run develop in the material. These designer tights were $40 a pair. How could this day get any worse?

Unable to take it anymore, Allison finally asked, "Vivian, how can we make this partnership work? What is your proposal?" She didn't want to put the ball in the buyer's court, but the silence was simply unbearable.

Vivian blinked rapidly, trying to focus on Allison's words through the haze that still clouded her mind. The strange odor persisted, its effect intensifying with each passing moment. As Allison's desperation became palpable, Vivian found herself feeling an overwhelming urge to please the saleswoman, to accommodate her every request and go above and beyond to secure their partnership.

A warm smile broke across Vivian's face, completely transforming her icy demeanor into one of warmth and friendliness. "Allison, I appreciate your willingness to collaborate and make adjustments for the success of our partnership. Let me assure you that I am fully committed to working together to achieve our mutual goals," she said, her voice now filled with enthusiasm.

Before Allison could reply, Vivian continued. "I believe we can make this partnership not just work, but thrive. Your designs are exquisite, and I see real potential here. Let's not just tweak the contract, let's expand it. I want to increase the size of my order from your line by 50%, and I'm willing to pay 10% more for each piece."

It took a moment for Allison to process what she had just heard. Did Vivian White just offer to buy more? Was this some sort of joke? Not sure what to believe she stared at the buyer trying to detect anything, but the face staring back at her revealed nothing. If anything Viv looked like she was out of it. A part of her worried that the woman had suffered a major medical event.

Nevertheless, Allison was not about to let this opportunity get away from her. She began to quickly make the changes to the contract while the two women sat at the table. The entire time she worked, Vivian didn't really move or say anything. She just stared blissfully off into space which suited the saleswoman just fine.

However, the moment of truth was fast approaching. Allison needed to get Viv to sign and initial each page of the agreement to make everything official. Was there enough going on inside Vivian's head for her to do that?

Allison cleared her throat, mustering up the courage to make the request that would solidify their partnership. "Vivian, in order to proceed with these amendments and ensure clarity on both ends, I will need you to sign and initial each page of this contract," A growing part of her felt guilty. She may not like Vivian, but that did not make it alright for her to take advantage of her if something had truly happened.

To her surprise, Vivian's reaction was immediate. Without a moment of hesitation, she reached for the pen Allison had placed on the table and began signing and initialing each page as requested. Her movements were smooth and precise, almost robotic in nature. Allison watched in bewilderment as Vivian completed the task with an air of detachment, her expression blank and distant.

Once the last page was signed, Vivian handed the contract back to Allison with a faint smile. The saleswoman couldn't believe her luck. Not only had she secured a lucrative deal, but it seemed like Vivian was practically handing it to her on a silver platter. As Allison gathered the papers and prepared to leave, a sudden wave of unease washed over her.

"Is everything alright, Vivian?" Allison asked tentatively, unable to shake off the feeling that something was amiss.

"Of course, everything is fine, Allison. I'm thrilled about our partnership and can't wait to see where it takes us," she replied in a tone that sounded almost too cheerful to be genuine.

Despite her lingering doubts, Allison forced a smile and thanked Vivian for her cooperation. As she made her way out of the conference room, relief flooded through her veins. Somehow she had convinced one of the most powerful buyers in the industry to expand their agreement despite lackluster sales. This deal would not only help Fab Fashions stay afloat, it would bring other buyers to the table. When Vivian White endorsed a product, others quickly followed.

After Allison walked out, Vivian remained entranced by the lingering smell in the conference room, an intoxicating blend of vinegar and leather. More than an hour passed before the aroma dissipated. A few minutes later, her head finally cleared and she woke up from her trance. Her surroundings slowly came back into focus as her attention zeroed in on the legal agreement in front of her.

When the brain fog finally cleared, Vivian picked up the contract and began reviewing its contents. As she read through each page, her brow furrowed in confusion. The terms outlined were far more favorable to Allison than she had ever intended. It was as if someone else had negotiated on her behalf, someone with a reckless abandon for financial prudence.

There was simply no reason that she would ever agree to these terms, but to Vivian's horror she saw her signature and initials on each and every page. No one ever out negotiated Vivian White, yet somehow that little shit seemed to have gotten the best of her. For the rest of the day the scion of the retail industry sat dazed and perplexed questioning whether she had somehow lost her edge.