Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 130022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
The reception area was much the same, but dialed down several notches, and Noel’s office was half the size of mine, in the same colors but had more blacks, whereas mine was more whites, and that dial for him had gone back up (way up).
Attached was an open office space for the rest of my staff.
Beyond that were two massive spaces: one, a warehouse where the subscription boxes were carefully hand compiled and sent out four times a year. The other where we kept our limited, exclusive stock of clothes, shoes, handbags, accessories and makeup items I deemed worthy of Wyn’s List and sold on my website, this stock shifting out for a new list that shifted in every two months.
Outside Noel, who along with taking direct care of me, managed our two managers (subscription boxes and website sales), I also employed our receptionist, Jana, two computer engineers (one in charge of maintaining our website, the other in charge of all of our machines), one IT tech (who designed and sent newsletters and assisted the engineers), two creative directors (who reported directly to me, one who designed all editorials, the other who designed catalogue shoots for sales and marketing), three customer service reps, five stockists (who saw to inventory and filled orders), a marketing director and assistant, a rotating intern (who assisted Noel), and another who shadowed me. We contracted with various photographers, hair stylists and makeup artists when they were needed. And finally, I had a scout, Sabrina, who did what I used to spend a lot of time doing: traveling, shopping and monitoring trends.
I, however, with Noel and Sabrina, went to the runway shows.
In other words, Noel took care of me and the local operations.
And for the most part, Jana, my current intern, Maria, and I took care of personal clients, of which I had many, and many of those were famous.
I limited the number of our subscription boxes—we mailed twenty thousand of them four times a year—and our waiting list to get one was just under fifty times that.
And every curated collection I created sold out weeks before it was rotated, and I had current designers and up and comers, clamoring to be selected.
I was a small one, but there was no denying I was my own brand of a fashion mogul.
And I might not sit to the side of Anna Wintour next to the runway at Prada.
But I hadn’t been in a nosebleed seat since I dressed Fiona for awards season.
And truthfully, my seats before that far from sucked.
Twenty-two years ago, I had interrupted the pursuit of my own dream while Remy continued on the path to his, for nine years.
I did not regret this or wish that time back. I made precious memories with my babies when they were babies and I gave time to my husband, who I adored, to do the thing his father demanded he not do: follow his own dream to building the structures into realities that had plagued his head since he was a little boy.
But once I began again, I hit the ground running, I’d busted my ass and—I took my office in again—I’d created this.
And for the last three years, I’d obsessed on failure.
The one I’d made of my marriage.
That wasn’t all on me.
It wasn’t all on Remy.
And it wasn’t all on Bea.
Last, there was no point dissecting it now because there was one thing it was.
Over.
On that thought, I set Bea aside, Myrna, and most importantly, Remy.
And I got back to work.
CHAPTER 6
Rocky
Wyn
Saturday evening, I was running on time for a change as I got ready to go to Cock and Snacktails at Kara’s house, when my phone rang with a call from my daughter.
Sitting at my vanity doing the final touches on my makeup, I put her on speaker.
“She lives!” was how I answered it.
“Boo, Mom. I’m a girl on the go.”
“So on the go you can’t return a text from your darling mother?”
“Okay, you have to promise not to get mad.”
This was never a good opening.
Nevertheless, Manon used it a lot.
I braced.
She continued.
“I had a test and paper due this week, and I couldn’t really afford the time to drive up to Phoenix for Yves’s thing. But he was ready to do it, and I couldn’t say no.” Big breath and the real whammy. “And I have a new boyfriend. He’s a graduate student. And I’m kind of…obsessed with him.”
I immediately stated the obvious.
“I hope you were more obsessed with that test and paper.”
“He finds girls who don’t take their studies seriously unattractive.”
“I like him already.”
She started laughing.
I grinned at my vanity mirror while I swiped on mascara.
“So, Yves, Sah and me have talked…a lot, and we want to know if you and Dad are getting back together,” she said.
I swiped a black streak across my upper eyelid.