Читать книгу Seduced By The Tycoon At Christmas - Pamela Yaye - Страница 12

Chapter 3

On the outside, Casa Di Moda headquarters in the Milan city center was nothing special, but Zoe called the two-story property her second home. Housed in a brown brick building, with the name of the fashion house written on the windows in fine script, the decor was clean and simple.

Breezing through the front door, Zoe smiled and waved at her colleagues. The interior had bright colors, scrumptious chairs and couches, and vintage mirrors throughout the main floor. Oversize photographs of ad campaigns and fashion shows beautified the walls, and as Zoe entered the reception area, the tranquil atmosphere calmed her nerves. Despite the pain in her ankle, she moved with confidence.

The December program she’d created for Casa Di Moda was packed with creative holiday events, and Zoe was confident her boss would love it, especially the Men of Milan calendar. The idea had come to her days earlier after a loud, spirited conversation with her girlfriends on FaceChat, and Zoe couldn’t wait to pitch it at the morning staff meeting.

Reaching the conference room door, she smoothed her hands over her braids and the front of her dress. It had been one hell of a morning, but her day was about to get better. Excitement coursed through her veins. Cha-ching! Zoe had big plans for her bonus. After she paid her bills and bought her plane ticket to New York, she’d donate the rest of the money to her favorite charity. Last year, she’d organized a Christmas toy drive at the office, and it had been a success. This year, Zoe planned to do more.

For some strange reason, an image of Romeo Morretti popped into her mind, derailing her thoughts. She’d done nothing wrong, so why did she feel guilty about turning down his dinner invitation? Zoe had a bad feeling about him, just knew that he was as cocky as the tabloids said he was, so why did she regret not giving him her cell phone number? Had she made a mistake? During the taxicab ride, she’d read several articles about him on her tablet, and each story was more shocking than the one before. Born into one of the richest families in the country, Romeo had been educated in the finest schools and lived a life most people could only dream of. He owned real estate properties, premier restaurants, spas and fitness centers. Eight years after opening his company, Morretti Finance and Investments, his personal net worth had tripled. Not that Zoe was impressed by his staggering wealth. The most interesting thing she’d read about the brilliant businessman had nothing to do with his flamboyant lifestyle and celebrity friends. Every year, he donated millions of dollars to charity and even fed the homeless. Maybe he’s more than just a bad-boy bachelor, she’d thought, staring at the images taken of him at local hospitals and orphanages. Maybe he has a heart.

Zoe shook her head to clear her mind. It didn’t matter what she thought. She didn’t have time to daydream about a man she’d never see again. She was late, and since every second counted, she gripped the door handle, turned it and peeked inside the conference room.

The blinds were drawn, allowing sunlight to fill the room, and decorative vases overflowing with peach and orange roses sweetened the air. Decorated in white with floor-to-ceiling windows, leather armchairs and contemporary art, the conference room was spacious and attractive. Fruit and pastry trays were on the table, and Zoe’s mouth watered in anticipation.

Sighing in relief, Zoe eased open the door. Thankfully, Aurora had her back to the door and was furiously writing notes on the Smart Board. Her husband, Davide, was staring down at his iPad. With his clean-cut looks and salt-and-pepper hair, the executive vice president often joked about feeling old. But he had a youthful air, and everyone on staff loved him.

“Come here,” Jiovanni mouthed. “I saved you a seat. Hurry up.”

Hoping to go unnoticed, Zoe tiptoed across the room. The moment she sat down in the empty chair beside Jiovanni, Aurora called her name.

“Zoe, how nice of you to join us,” she said, glancing over shoulder. “I hope my weekly staff meeting isn’t interrupting your very busy schedule.”

Her cheeks warmed and her stomach churned. Embarrassed that her boss was taking her to task in front of her colleagues, Zoe wore an apologetic smile. “Sorry I’m late Aurora, but I was in a—”

The designer spun around, startling her, and Zoe broke off speaking.

“Save it for someone who cares. We have work to do, and lots of it.”

Feeling her mouth drop open, she stared at her boss with wide eyes. Aurora never raised her voice, let alone yelled at her, so Zoe was shocked by her tone. The designer wasn’t just her boss, she was also a good friend, and her stinging retort hurt her feelings.

Aurora fussed with her multicolored scarf. Petite, with a brown pixie cut, olive skin and a slender frame, she had perfect posture and impeccable manners. “Zoe, I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Sniffing, she dabbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “The last few weeks have been a nightmare...”

Her voice faltered, and she couldn’t finish her thought.

Zoe straightened in her chair, tried to make sense of what was going on with her boss. Was Aurora having a mental breakdown? she wondered, scrutinizing the designer’s appearance. Dark lines rimmed her eyes, but her black A-line dress complemented her shape, and the leopard-print heels she wore elongated her legs. Were the late nights, and early mornings, finally getting to her? Was she so overwhelmed with stress and fatigue she couldn’t function?

Rising from his leather chair at the head of the table, Davide stood behind his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Casa Di Moda is in trouble, and we need your help.”

“What are you saying?” a graphic designer asked. “Is the company broke?”

Davide spoke in a solemn tone of voice. “No, but if we don’t turn things around in the next three months, we’ll have no choice but to file for bankruptcy.”

The room was so quiet, Zoe could hear her heart beating inside her chest. Was this a joke? A trick? She wondered if the powerhouse couple were pulling her leg, and studied their faces for clues. They looked serious, sounded serious, too, but Casa Di Moda couldn’t be in financial trouble. The line was popular; celebrities wore their designs to award shows, movie premieres and industry events. They’d recently landed a multiyear contract with an international film company to design costumes.

“That’s impossible,” Jiovanni argued, his short black curls flopping around his face. “We signed several deals this year, and high-end boutiques in Montreal, Dubai and Paris are chomping at the bit to carry our gowns as well.”

Jiovanni had a fun-loving personality, an outrageous sense of humor and an infectious laugh. He loved fine wine, Italian rap music, and had a different woman on his arm every week. He liked to joke about marrying her one day, but he was the big brother Zoe never had, and she’d never ruin their friendship by getting involved romantically with him.

“The film company backed out of the deal weeks ago, but we didn’t know how to tell you.” Davide wore a sad smile. “You worked hard on the presentation, and we didn’t want to disappoint you, especially after everything you’ve done over the years to help the line succeed.”

“How could this happen? We’ve given our blood, sweat and tears to this company for years, and now we have nothing to show for it,” grumbled the creative director.

“Casa Di Moda isn’t the only company feeling the pinch,” Aurora said. “People aren’t splurging on designer labels like they used to, and according to official figures, clothing, shoes and jewelry fell another eighteen percent over the last nine months.”

“Households are under increasing pressure as they wrestle with rising living costs,” Davide added. “There’s a lot of fear and uncertainty in the world right now. Consumers are being very conservative with their money, even the rich and famous.”

Staff members grumbled and complained, bombarding Aurora and Davide with questions and concerns. Zoe couldn’t speak. This couldn’t be happening. Not to Aurora and Davide. They had big hearts, and she admired their tireless work ethic. Married for over a decade, the couple had no children, but referred to Casa Di Moda as their baby and treated everyone at the company like family. It was hard to listen to her colleagues bash them, but every time Zoe tried to come to the couple’s defense, someone interrupted her.

“Everyone, please settle down. I’m still the boss, and I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior at my company. If you can’t be respectful, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Silence fell across the room as Aurora spoke, but tension and anger polluted the air.

“It will be business as usual around here during the holidays, but Davide and I will be away from the office a fair bit, so we’ll need all of you to hold the fort while we’re aggressively seeking new investors who’ll help us take Casa Di Moda to the next level.”

An associate designer raised her hand. “Are you planning to file for bankruptcy in the new year? Should we be looking for other jobs?”

Aurora stared down at the beige carpet, as if the answer to the question were written there. “I don’t know,” she said in a quiet tone of voice.

“Let’s not dwell on the negative.” Davide wore a broad smile. “Tonight’s the premiere of Amore in Tuscany, and we expect to see all of you at Anteo spazioCinema. You can’t get in the theater without your VIP pass, so guard it with your life.”

For weeks, Zoe had been looking forward to the movie premiere, but Aurora and Davide’s announcement had soured her mood. Casa Di Moda collaborated with several European directors to design movie sets and costumes, and the success of the film could mean more business for the company. Since Zoe wanted to see the fashion house succeed, she’d post about the event again on her social media pages once she got to her office.

“One last thing,” Aurora said, raising an index finger in the air. “If you have any ideas on how to help us turn things around and increase sales, please don’t hesitate to share them with us. Speak up. We want to hear from you.”

“I know a surefire way to boost sales and increase our popularity as well.”

Everyone in the room cranked their heads in Zoe’s direction but she wasn’t at all intimidated. She had this. Knew what she was talking about. Had the numbers to support her argument. And she was excited to share her knowledge with her colleagues.

“You do?” Interest sparked in Davide’s eyes.

“Well, don’t keep us in the dark.” Aurora spoke in a loud, animated voice. “What is it? What’s your brilliant idea for saving Casa Di Moda?”

“Create a plus-size line for curvy women.”

A scowl darkened Davide’s face, and the smile slid off Aurora’s thin pink lips.

“I don’t design clothes for big girls,” she spat. “And I never will.”

“Why not?” Zoe pressed, curious why her boss had shot down her idea. “According to published reports, the average woman in the United Kingdom is a size fourteen, and I think it’s high time we tap into that underserved and unappreciated market.”

“We will not. I style women from size zero to size eight, and that’s it.”

“But women don’t stop at size eight,” Zoe argued. “We come in all shapes and sizes. As a woman with curves, I know firsthand how stressful it is to find attractive designer clothes in Milan. And from what I hear on social media, it’s an issue all across Europe.”

Aurora inspected her French manicure. “That’s not my problem.”

Zoe took a moment to collect her thoughts. Having had this conversation with Jiovanni numerous times before, she stared at her best friend for help, but he dodged her gaze. Undeterred, Zoe returned her attention to her boss, forgetting about everyone else in the room and speaking from the heart. “Aurora, you make the most beautiful clothes, and I’d kill to wear your designs but I can’t because you don’t make them in my size. Why not create clothes for everyone? Why not share your talent with the world?”

“Because if I do I’ll never be taken seriously again as a designer. I’ll be shunned by the entire fashion community. At this stage in my career that’s a risk I can’t afford to take.”

“You’re a designer, and no one can ever take that away from you.”

“We could call the line, Chic and Curvy,” proposed an intern with colored braces.

“I love it!” Zoe said, unable to hide her excitement. The expression on Aurora’s face said back off, but she had to speak her mind. Wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she kept her feelings bottled up inside. Buying clothes had been an issue ever since she’d moved to Milan. If not for Jiovanni making dresses for her to wear to industry events, she’d be stuck ordering clothes online from the States.

“You have a God-given talent,” Zoe continued. “And it’s time you share your gift with the world, namely curvy beauties like me. Hey, voluptuous women love fashion, too!”

Her joke fell flat, and for the second time in minutes, an awkward silence filled the air. Needing help, Zoe stared around the table at her colleagues, but everyone avoided her gaze. Undeterred, she flipped open her journal and reviewed her notes.

“I think the Men of Milan calendar promotion would tie in well with the launch of a plus-size line,” she explained, continuing her pitch.

Aurora perked up. “A Men of Milan calendar? Sounds dreamy! Tell me more.”

“Everyone who buys a Casa Di Moda gown during the Christmas holidays will receive a free calendar. People love getting free things, and I think this holiday promotion will be a hit.”

“I love it,” Aurora praised. “I think we should go all out. Let’s hire male models to serve champagne and pose for pictures with customers as well.”

Zoe tapped her pen on her notebook. “Christmas is several weeks away, but I’m going to get started on the Men of Milan today. We need to create buzz about our fabulous new holiday collection, and I think this is the best way to do it.”

“Who do you have in mind for the calendar?” Davide asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Money is tight right now, so you’ll have a very small budget for this project.”

“No problem. Women love to see men in uniform, right, ladies?”

For the first time since the meeting started, her colleagues smiled and nodded.

“I’m going to hire some local models and dress them up as firefighters, paramedics, police officers and doctors. I’m still working on the logistics, but I should have everything finished early next week.”

“I want the proposal tomorrow,” Aurora said.

Zoe gulped and her pen fell from her hands. Twenty-four hours? Is Aurora out of her mind? That’s not enough time to pull everything together!

A cell phone rang, filling the air with a popular Italian pop song.

Smiling sheepishly, Davide took his cell out of his pocket, switched it off and put it on the table. “Great work, Zoe. I can tell everyone in here is really excited about this holiday promotion, and I’m pumped about it, too. Well done.”

Thrilled that she had her bosses’ support, Zoe jotted down ideas as they came to her. “How long will it take for the plus-size line to be ready?” she asked. “I think it would be cool if we had some women posing in Casa Di Moda gowns draped all over the models, don’t you?”

Anger flashed in Aurora’s eyes, and she spoke through clenched teeth. “We’re not doing the plus-size line. Just the calendar. Got it?”

Worried she’d lose her temper if Aurora yelled at her again, Zoe picked up her glass and sipped her water. The self-made woman struck the fear of God in people, but Zoe wasn’t going to let anyone disrespect her. “I’m disappointed that you won’t consider my suggestion, but you’re the boss, and I respect your decision,” she said with a shrug. “If you don’t want to expand the line and increase sales, there’s nothing I can do.”

Aurora seemed to shrink right before Zoe’s eyes. With her head down and her shoulders hunched, she looked fragile and scared. Turning her face toward the windows, she gazed at the sky and fiddled with her wedding ring. For all her wealth and success, she was stubborn and insecure, and Zoe had never pitied anyone more.

“As you all know, the Christmas Wonderland Ball will be held on December 20, and I don’t have to tell you how important this event is for Casa Di Moda. Everyone who’s anyone will be there, and it’s a great networking opportunity for us all.”

“How many tables will we have this year?” asked the human resources director, straightening in her chair. “Is everyone on staff invited?”

Aurora and Davide shared a troubled look, and Zoe knew the couple was about to share more bad news with the staff. Every year, famous names from fashion, film, politics, business and the world of sports attended the black-tie event, which raised millions of dollars for the local children’s hospital in Milan. It had the most expensive and coveted tickets of the year, and Zoe was looking forward to attending her first Christmas Wonderland Ball.

“I wish everyone could go, but the cost of the ball has dramatically increased this year to 100,000 euros a table. Only the executive team can go,” Aurora explained.

“That’s all for today, everyone.” Davide opened the door. “Back to work.”

Staff members filed out of the room wearing long faces, and Zoe couldn’t recall ever feeling so low. She wanted to stay behind to speak to Aurora privately, but decided against it. Now wasn’t the right time. Filled with sympathy, Zoe watched the couple embrace. It was bad enough Casa Di Moda was struggling financially, and since she didn’t want to make things worse for Aurora and Davide by arguing with them about expanding the line, Zoe grabbed her things and hurried through the open door.

Needing a moment to catch her breath, Zoe ducked inside the ladies’ room and locked herself in a stall. If I’m a valuable member of the team why won’t Aurora and Davide take my ideas seriously? And why did Aurora roll her eyes when I pressed her for details about the plus-size line? Does she want to save Casa Di Moda from bankruptcy or not?

Zoe used the bathroom, then washed her hands. Deep down, she feared things were going to get worse at Casa Di Moda in the coming weeks, and wondered what that would mean for her future. Will I have a job after the holidays? Will I be forced to leave Milan for good?

As Zoe studied her reflection in the mirror, her mind flashed back to her conversation with Romeo Morretti that morning. A thought came to mind. He was a businessman with deep pockets who owned an investment company. Someone with billionaire friends and clients. Maybe if she reached out to him he could help Casa Di Moda—Zoe shook her head, told herself it was a bad idea. No good could come out of calling Romeo Morretti. From what she’d read about him, he was an opportunist who preyed on vulnerable people. Since Zoe didn’t like playing with fire, she pushed the thought from her mind. Yanking open the door, she marched down the hallway toward her office, determined to finish her paperwork before the six o’clock movie premiere.