Power & Beauty (28 page)
F
ine’s Department Store sat around the corner from the Ellis Hotel in downtown Atlanta. It was the store where Beauty’s mother, Isabel Long, had met and befriended Power’s mother, Charlotte Clay. Both women had been bookkeepers, both had young children the same age. They had helped each other through troubled times. When Isabel’s Japanese lover, who sold goods to the Yamamoto family, the owner of Fine’s, abandoned her and her infant daughter, Charlotte was there for Isabel. It was Charlotte who took a leave of absence for more than a month to stay with Isabel during her losing battle with cancer. As a young girl, Beauty often went to Fine’s. When Isabel—and later Charlotte—had extra work to do on weekends, they would bring Beauty along, sit her at a desk, and let her color or read. Sometimes she’d wander off into the store and marvel at the clothes in the women’s and children’s sections. Fine’s was her first taste of fashion and glamour. Yet those happy memories of Fine’s were also mixed with the memories of loss. When Beauty was eleven, she lost Isabel. At sixteen, she lost Charlotte. For those reasons she had not been back to Fine’s for many years, and certainly not since this recent return to Atlanta.
Yet on this Saturday morning, she felt like driving downtown to the store. She was working the late shift at Claire’s and didn’t need to be at Cumberland Mall till one
P.M
. At ten, she found herself walking through those familiar doors through which she had walked so many times before. She knew this old elegant store well. It was one of the first luxury clothing establishments to be built in Atlanta and had a feeling of history. Beauty’s personal history with the store filled her imagination. She remembered all the times that both her mothers, who were able to buy there at deep discounts, allowed her to pick out her own clothes. She remembered how happy she had been walking up and down the aisles. The enchanting fragrances in the perfume department, the great chandeliers and fixtures from the 1920s, the old-fashioned elevators with their polished silver doors—everything about Fine’s was magical. Beauty was excited to be back.
She wandered around, relishing good memories at every turn. Rather than lament the loss of both her mothers, her heart recalled the kind and good things they did for her. So many of those things happened in this store. On the third floor, she walked to the back of the lingerie department to the hallway that led to the executive offices. This was where the bookkeepers—including Isabel and Charlotte—had toiled for so many years. The accounting department was right next to the suite housing the men and women who ran the store. Beauty stood in the hallway for several long seconds, feeling gratitude that two such wonderful women had loved her so deeply. Tears streaked down her cheeks.
Just as she was about to turn away, a man walked down the hallway and approached her. At first she didn’t recognize him, but he immediately recognized her.
“You’re Beauty, Miss Charlotte Clay’s daughter,” he said.
Then she realized who he was: Kato Yamamoto, the son of the Japanese couple that had bought the store many years ago.
“Yes,” she said. “You and your family were kind enough to make a condolence call.”
“It was the least we could do. I’m so glad to see you. Are you still living in Atlanta?”
“Yes, but only recently. I’ve been living in New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago.”
“That sounds exciting. I’d love to hear about it. Would you like to have a cup of tea with me at Rebecca’s?”
“I would. That sounds lovely.”
Rebecca’s, named for the wife of Sid Fine, the original owner of the store, was a beautiful dining room set in the refined style of a former era. The walls were dark wood engraved with figures of birds and flowers. The tablecloths and linens were the same shade of pink as the waitresses’ uniforms. Rebecca’s was where the ladies of high society liked to lunch. It was where Isabel, and then Charlotte, had always taken Beauty for her birthday.
“Nothing changes here,” said Beauty as they sat at a corner table and ordered Earl Grey tea for two from the attractive blond waitress in pink.
“That’s the charm of Rebecca’s, isn’t it?” asked Kato.
“Exactly,” Beauty agreed as she felt Kato’s strong gaze. He was an attractive twenty-three-year-old Japanese man who stood at five eleven, far taller than his diminutive parents. Unlike them, he spoke accent-less English. Born in Kyoto, he moved to America as an infant and had been brought up in Atlanta’s best private schools. He was thin. His eyes were a liquid brown and his hair, thick and slicked back, was brownish black. His blue Versace cashmere blazer fit tight at the waist; his gray woolen trousers broke perfectly at the top of his Prada leather loafers. He sat with a relaxed air, yet his interest in Beauty was obvious and intense.
“I remember my mother saying that you had another tragedy earlier in your life,” he said, “when your first mother died. I believe she also worked here.”
“Yes,” said Beauty. “I have a strong connection to this store.”
“Forgive me for bringing up such painful memories.”
“That’s all right. When you came down the hallway, I was thinking about both women. They were wonderful.”
“And so I’ve heard. But please, tell me about yourself. Where are you working in Atlanta?”
“At Claire’s in the Cumberland Mall.”
“That’s a good operation.”
“I’m assistant manager.”
“At so young an age. I’m impressed. And what work were you doing in New York?”
“I worked at Bloom’s.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m serious.”
“We’re on the verge of buying Bloom’s. Did you know that?”
“I had no idea.”
“What was your job there?”
“Assistant to Anita Ward.”
“Anita Ward was instrumental in recruiting Primo Dalla Torre to buy the chain, wasn’t she?” he asked.
“Yes,” Beauty answered.
“And you knew about all that?”
“I did. You see, Anita sent me to Los Angeles to work under Mr. Dalla Torre’s wife, Soo Kim.”
“Of Calm and Cool Clothing?”
“The same.”
“This is so strange. I don’t have to tell you, Beauty, but when Miss Ward and Mr. Dalla Torre died, his deal fell apart and Bloom’s really hasn’t recovered from the blow. Miss Kim tried to honor her husband’s offer, but apparently she and the estate are at odds. She has no access to his assets. There are also enormous tax problems being litigated in Italy and here. The court fights will go on for years. Meanwhile, Bloom’s has been in a tailspin. Are you still in touch with Miss Kim?”
“No, I decided it was time to leave. That’s when I moved to Chicago. It was a struggle at first, but I finally found this job at Claire’s. It was Claire’s who transferred me from Chicago to Atlanta.”
“But tell me about the work you did with Anita Ward and Soo Kim.”
“I also worked with Lena Pearl. Do you know her line?”
“Of course. She does great work. And a couple of her lines have done extremely well. Bloom’s used to carry her. You’ve had great experience. So you’re a designer.”
“Yes, I’ve always wanted a line of my own. That’s what the training with Anita, Soo, and Lena was all about.”
“And it all stopped with those two unfortunate deaths?”
“I’m afraid so.”
The tea arrived. It was served on a sterling silver tray along with English butter cookies.
“But you’re happy at Claire’s?” asked Kato.
“I’m coping at Claire’s.”
“Am I right to assume that’s because Claire’s isn’t exactly the career trajectory you had in mind?”
“It isn’t. It’s a corporation. I was told I’d be the youngest manager in their history when I turned twenty-one. But I’m still waiting.”
“The corporate culture can be maddening,” Kato said. “It can make you feel so powerless. Your fate is in the hands of people whom you don’t know and, even worse, people who don’t know you.”
“You’re right. But we’ve been talking about me. What about you, Kato?”
“It’s an interesting time in my life. I graduated from the Wharton School of Business almost a year ago and came back here to help my folks. After a long struggle, I’ve convinced them that we have to expand, and Bloom’s is our first step. I’m set to fly to New York next week to hammer out the details with the firm we’ve hired to facilitate the acquisition. But getting back to you, Beauty, I’m astounded to know all the common ground between us. That’s absolutely fascinating. I’m afraid I have to get back to the office for a meeting, but I’m wondering if it’s possible to see you before I leave on Thursday. Are you free for dinner Tuesday evening?”
His words flowed freely, and so did Beauty’s response. “I am,” she said.
“Great. Then please give me your number and I’ll call. I’m so glad I ran into you and can’t wait to learn more about you.”
As Kato got up, he gave the blond waitress, who was on the other side of Rebecca’s, the thumbs-up sign. Beauty wasn’t sure what that meant. Was he telling the waitress to forget about the check, or send it to the executive office? Or was he telling her that he had scored?
In the days that followed, Beauty could not deny the excitement she felt about seeing Kato again. She even called her friend Tanisha to discuss it.
“Oh, my God,” said Tanisha. “He sounds perfect for you.”
“It’s not like that,” said Beauty.
“Then what
is
it like?”
“Well, he’s cute. He’s very good-looking, but I’m not feeling a strong attraction in that way.”
“But
he
obviously is.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he asked you out immediately,” said Tanisha. “And you immediately said yes.”
“Maybe it’s just a business connection,” said Beauty.
“That would be cool. Any way you look at it, it’s cool.”
Beauty looked at it every way possible. She spoke the truth to Tanisha. Sexually, he did not stir her. What did stir her, though, was the fact that he was a power player. She couldn’t deny that. She kept thinking about that. Not only was Kato a player, but he was an owner—or the son of the owners, a guy with international connections and international ambition. She tried not to think about everything he could do for her, but the fantasies kept coming. He could take her off the going-nowhere-fast track at Claire’s and put her back on the track to somewhere. It would be a giant leap.
After Primo, though, hadn’t she sworn off this kind of life? Hadn’t she made up her mind that she would not sell herself at any cost? But
was
she selling herself? Had Kato even made an offer? No. He had simply asked her to dinner. He liked her. She liked him. That’s all there was to it. All this analysis was getting her nowhere, keeping her up late as she waited for the night of her date. Would he call that morning or would the whole thing slip his mind?
He called that morning. He picked out Matsuda, an elegant sushi restaurant close to her apartment in Buckhead. He was already there when she arrived. He was dressed casually, turtleneck and jeans. She wore her favorite blouse by Miyake. The first thing he said was, “Miyake, I love it. I’ve been trying to get Fine’s to carry the line here but it’s a little far-out for this provincial market. You wear it beautifully”
The conversation went smoothly. He told her about the difficulties of convincing his parents to move into a new world of a retailing. They didn’t understand expansion. They were conservative people who, to a large degree, did not understand the future. At the same time, they recognized that, as the first brilliant student of business the family ever had produced, Kato’s formal training gave him distinct advantages. He understood the way in which the world was changing. Unlike themselves, he understood youth. He was youth.
“I tell them that youth is impatient,” Kato said to Beauty. “Don’t you agree?”
“Well, I know I’m impatient.”
“For what?” he asked.
“Well, I guess my career to be where I want it to be.”
“I feel the same.”
“But you’re in control of your career, Kato.”
“The struggle is ongoing. My parents are always saying I’m moving too fast and I’m saying they move too slow. This buyout of Bloom’s has taken a long, long time, and even though we’re in the final stages, they’re still threatening to pull out if we don’t get certain considerations. Those considerations, by the way, aren’t even logical. I think my parents simply want to queer the deal. They’re afraid I’m taking on more than I can handle.”
“And are you afraid?” asked Beauty.
“Sure,” he said, “who wouldn’t be? But that’s part of the fun. No risk, no reward. I don’t mind risks and I don’t mind being scared. I think people who say they aren’t scared are either lying or living a life that’s so boring it’s not worth living. How about you, Beauty? Are you scared? The way you’ve been running around the country on your own doesn’t lead me to believe that you’re at all scared.”
“I have my fears. I mean, I suppose that’s why I’m still at Claire’s. After having gone through some years of pretty heavy turmoil, I’m in my cautious phase.”
“And that attitude also applies to men?” asked Kato.
“I suppose it does.”
“What was the turmoil like?” he asked.
“In the world of fashion, I was riding pretty high early on. Or at least I was close to people who were riding high. It was exciting, but in the end I found myself alone and unemployed.”
“And with men?”
“A personal question,” said Beauty, taking a bite of yellowtail sushi.
“Too personal?” asked Kato.
“Well, the best way to answer the question is to say that I’m not involved. I’m more interested in finding the right path to a satisfying career than the right path to romance.”
“And if both paths happen to merge?”
“That’s a long shot.”
Kato took a sip of sake and relished the taste in his mouth. “Maybe not such a long shot,” he said.
Beauty was surprised, relieved, and also disappointed when he dropped the subject and began talking about the difference between the retail business in Asia and in America. The subject fascinated her, but she wondered why he didn’t pursue the topic of career and romance. She thought he was more than hinting that he was interested in both courting her romantically and helping her professionally. Of course it was easier this way. She didn’t have to worry about the conflict she had experienced with Primo. If it was a romance-only relationship he desired, she could evaluate that on its own merits. Or if it was a business-only relationship he wanted, she could do the same. But now he was talking about neither. He was asking her about the classes she had taken at Columbia College Chicago and the ones she was auditing at Georgia State. Sociology, world history, and marketing were subjects that fascinated him, and he had a lot to say. He asked her questions and offered comments of his own. His mind was quick and his curiosity keen. The evening went by quickly. He paid the bill, she thanked him, and they got up to leave. They had arrived in separate cars.