after message. Thérèse has handed in her two weeks’ notice. What the hell? Thérèse is priceless. We pay her accordingly – better than anyone else in the industry ever would, and she has a generous vacation package. She doesn’t seem to like me much personally, probably because of my demanding management style, but it’s not as if we openly clash. She treats me with a chilly courtesy, and I reply in kind.
I hurry to my bureau and quickly pull on a pair of boxer shorts.
When I check my phone again, there’s another message. I was supposed to call the supplier of our world-famous ethically sourced chocolate this morning at 10 a.m. They are only capable of producing a limited supply, and other vendors are courting them.
My brain apparently short-circuited from spending time with Winona. I knew that she and workaholic Blake would never work out, so I tried to turn myself into something that I’m not. Too-laid-back-for-schedules Blake. Fuck-my-family-store-and-our-reputation Blake.
I snatch my cell phone, sitting on the bed and letting it continue to charge as I call Pierre to apologize. Fortunately, Pierre has been working with our store for years, and we’ve always treated him well. He’s decent about it, he’s understanding, he murmurs that it’s fine, things happen.
No they don’t. Not to me.
“Sir?” Henry’s voice echoes from down the hall, with an edge of worry. The unflappable Henry is ever so slightly flapped. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine!” I yell. “Hold your damn horses!”
Yeah, I’m fine all right. I’ve returned to factory settings; irritable asshole Blake. I rush from my bedroom, barefoot and clad only in boxers.
Henry stands in the hallway by the parlor doorway. “You weren’t answering your calls,” he says in a tone of mild reproof.
“I had Winona over, so I turned off my phone and took off my watch.” I groan, scrubbing at my face with my hands. Then I drop them to my sides. “I overslept. Do you have any idea why Thérèse would hand in her notice?”
“I’m sorry, what?” His gray eyebrows spring up in surprise. His jaw drops, and he shakes his head in confusion. Mr. Unflappable has moved from mildly flapped to somewhat rattled. If things get any worse, he might be forced to upgrade to thoroughly discombobulated. God, I hope that doesn’t happen. One of us has to have a clear head today.
“I received an email saying that she’s handed in her two weeks’ notice. Jesus, Henry. What is happening? I slept late and turned my watch off and I fucked everything up. I missed my noon meeting with Akiri, and he’s beyond pissed.”
Henry shakes his head as if to clear it.
“Ah. Yes. All right.” He takes a breath, his brows drawn together in a frown. “I did not know about Thérèse handing in her notice. I just received a text alert about Akiri. He’s spoken with a couple of reporters in the trade rags. He says that you’ve repeatedly missed meetings with him and other designers. He stated that you were begging him to include his collection at Popup Palooza, and he was considering it, but you’re too erratic and he hears the show is on the verge of collapse. It’s popping up on several social media sites.”
Already? It’s been, what…half an hour? Motherfucker. Petty little bastard.
I stand there, swallowing hard, trying to corral my thoughts. Rage battles with shame. My gut is a Thunderdome of recriminations.
But I’m a Hudson. Crisis is inevitable, as my father used to say. We’re Hudsons. We stand above the rest, and there will always be those who aim to cut us down. Remember, success is the best revenge.
Hearing his words in my head summons up an icy calm. I snap into crisis management mode.
“This isn’t the first time Hudson’s has been hit with bad publicity, and it won’t be the last,” I say crisply. “We need to address this immediately. I’m going to call up the publicity department and have them send out a press release saying that I missed a meeting with Akiri today due to an unavoidable family emergency. I will say that I have already apologized and explained this to him. I’ll end it by wishing that whiny miserable little bastard the best of luck with whomever is lucky enough to partner with his tantrum-throwing ass. But not in those words. I’ll say it in a way that makes me look like the bigger person, which will have the end result of highlighting his pettiness.”