Beautyland by Dana Kline

Author:Dana Kline
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
Published: 2021-09-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Three weeks later we welcomed Carmine and designed sessions that laid out years of knowledge he’d never get from college courses. He appeared attentive and sincere, asked about the unfamiliar and dressed the part in well-cut suits, stylish ties and shoes. He arrived on time, contributed to staff meetings and fired up our expectations. Although I guessed him to be in his early thirties,

I considered him young and green rather than a contemporary of Jennifer, Dustin or me.

Mr Christopoulos took me aside at our annual holiday party, well into the eggnog. “You are deserving full credit. I put my faith in you as the one Carmine will turn for such employee situations when I’m gone.”

I’d had a few eggnogs, as well. “Gone! Mr C!”

“Ah, no one lives forever but I’m meaning gone from the company. I must pace myself. My heart affects my stamina. Our dance in Cannes? My knee still complains.”

“You’d looked just as handsome with a cane.”

“You flatter an old man.” We clinked glasses.

New Year’s Eve 1999 included Millennial celebrations in all five boroughs. Ethan and I avoided the frigid frenzy, stayed in, playing in the kitchen and bedroom. “Here’s to the two losers who ended up on Fifth Avenue. Who’s Laughing now?” he asked as we waited for the Y2K meltdown that never materialised. Self-doubt and low self-esteem still flared like a match stuck against sandpaper but we worked at recognising the triggers. Ethan started the new year networking and landed a job coaching Iron Hills High School baseball in Clay, New Jersey, between South Orange and Newark, a school district most professionals avoided. Unlike baseball hopefuls with skills to shove them forward, few of his kids could counteract their abuse, poverty and dysfunctional home lives.

“I get it,” Ethan said the day he signed on. “Maybe more than any other adult in their lives, I totally get it.” Within weeks he was elected to the community task force developing positive examples through athletic programs. This therapeutic chance to make a difference through baseball lifted his anxiety. As he gave one hundred percent to the kids, I knew he’d set a positive example in sports, loyalty and sportsmanship. I didn’t know women’s calls would fill our landline.

“That’ll be Rosalie or Nicole,” I muttered over a rare dinner together. “Single mothers working full time only get the athletic department voicemail after work. Some have told me it’s the first they’ve been able to get through to anyone in charge.”

“Rosalie gets through a lot.”

“Don’t go there, Emma. Using our landline number puts everything in the open. For school and for you.” He took the call in our home office.

Nikos Christopoulos kept his word and loosened his grip. He showed off his snazzy gold-tipped cane and paced himself in the office. His complex corporate structure included several Long Island interests outside the beauty business, but only on a need to-know basis for my team and me. In September he put his Carmine in charge of them, somehow convinced he’d acquired the expertise to make changes.

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