Fifth Avenue Glamour Girl by Renée Rosen

Author:Renée Rosen [Rosen, Renée]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-04-25T00:00:00+00:00

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ONE DAY, AFTER a colleague at the jewelry counter had assured me that my prongs were fine and that my stone was secure, I went to the cosmetic department and wiped down the glass showcase. I was transfixed by the sparkle of my ring, endlessly fascinated by how it caught the light every time I moved my hand. I was lost in all this when Mrs. Coopers came up to me.

“Miss Downing?”

It was the way she said my name that told me I was in trouble. Up until that point, I had almost forgotten about the man who’d taken down my name the week before. But now he was all I could think about and I realized my time had come.

“Mr. Bates would like to see you in his office.”

“Mr. Bates?” He was one of the big bosses, second-in-command next to Adam Gimbel, president of all of Saks Fifth Avenue. I’d never met Mr. Bates before, wasn’t even sure I’d ever set eyes on him. I closed the cash register drawer with both my hands. I glanced down at my engagement ring and wondered if maybe this wasn’t about my being a Dowaziac at all. Maybe they wanted to know if I was planning to quit after I got married, which honestly wasn’t something I’d even thought about—especially since Edward and I hadn’t set a date yet.

I don’t remember if I said anything more to Mrs. Coopers as we headed for the bank of elevators that led to the executive offices. I remember only the clacking of her thick heels against the marble floor as we drew closer and closer to my demise.

Mrs. Coopers showed me in and then left me on my own, closing the door behind her. Mr. Bates’s secretary told me to have a seat, asked if I’d like coffee. She was quite nice considering I was about to be fired. I thanked her anyway and sat down next to a stack of fashion magazines: Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, Town & Country. I kept my eyes planted on the floor, taking in the shiny black lace-up shoes that came and went while I listened to the ticking of the wall clock, the murmur of voices, telephones ringing, the burbling of the water cooler in the corner.

At last I was called into Mr. Bates’s office. From the doorway it reminded me of my father’s old office down on Wall Street with the high-back chair, the leather blotter and a matching pen set on that big desk, the credenza with crystal liquor decanters on top.

As I stepped inside I saw there were two other men seated opposite the desk. I swallowed hard. The one was the man who’d approached me at the counter that day, asking for my name. The other man had a long handsome face and deep-set gray eyes.

Mr. Bates stood up and shook my hand, which surprised me.

“Have a seat, Miss Downing.” He gestured to the third chair. Mr. Bates began making introductions, starting with the long-faced man.

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