Original Sin. Tasmina Perry

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Original Sin - Tasmina  Perry

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get me off the Globe and out of London,’ she said honestly.

      ‘No, I can see why you might think that, but there is a job to be done here, Tess. My family needs protecting and I think you could be good at it.’

      She looked across the crowd. Brooke and David were standing on the staircase, having their picture taken and laughing.

      ‘Look at how happy Brooke and David are. A perfect president and first lady, don’t you think? That’s what’s at stake here, Tess, not just the reputation of the family. It’s bigger than that.’

      Tess took a sip of champagne and carefully plated the flute on the table beside her. Dom was nowhere to be seen. Not that he would affect her decision anyway.

      ‘I’ll take it,’ she said simply.

      Meredith’s face broke into a warm smile. She took Tess’s hand in both of hers.

      ‘I knew you’d come to the right decision,’ she said. ‘Resign from the Globe on Monday and you can start as soon as you can get here. There’s plenty of work to be done. And Tess? Welcome to the family.’

       5

      The Asgill Cosmetics conference room was an impressive place. The silk wallpaper, the shelves full of industry awards, and the Chippendale chairs lined up along the long walnut table all reeked of corporate success. Should anyone be in any doubt as to the company’s place in the world, the floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto the bustle of Manhattan, a city full of grateful customers. But, despite the grandeur of the surroundings, anyone attending an actual meeting in the conference room could detect that all was not well. Only a decade ago, Asgill’s had been one of the top ten cosmetics companies in America. Not as big as the giants such as L’Oréal or Maybelline, but within striking distance of Max Factor and Cover Girl. Today, though, Asgill Cosmetics was in trouble, a situation that had developed not suddenly but over a protracted period of time; a state of affairs that at least one member of the board found totally unacceptable. Liz Asgill was already seated at the far end of the table as the rest of the executive board filed into the room, and she watched the general managers of the individual brands shuffle to their seats with barely concealed contempt. From their grey faces and dour expressions, Liz felt sure that their reports would be filled with nothing but bad news.

      ‘Perhaps we should make a start,’ said Liz officiously, once everyone was in the room.

      William, nominally the head of the company, seemed distracted, fiddling with his laptop at the head of the table, the prestigious slot that Meredith – as company chairman – had occupied during board meetings until about six months ago. Now she sat to his right, Liz opposite her. Finally William looked up and nodded deferentially to Liz before addressing the room.

      ‘I know you’ve all prepared your report for the individual divisions,’ he said apologetically. ‘But I think today we just need to concentrate on the first quarter’s results and look at where we’re heading in the light of those.’

      There were unsettled grumblings around the room as William introduced Quentin, their chief financial officer, and asked him to run through the figures. Liz could tell within a minute that they were the worst results the company had ever posted.

      Liz watched William closely, waiting to see what spin her brother would attempt to put on the latest downwards turn, which had been caused by the recent launch of Vital Radiance, a low-priced organics range that – in theory – dispensed fresh beauty products from pumps placed in stores.

      ‘As you can see, we’re quite a way off where we’d like to be at this point,’ said William. ‘The launch costs of Natural Glow have obviously been fairly heavy, ditto the forthcoming Skin Plus.’

      ‘Presumably we’re going to have to reforecast the end-of-year results?’ asked Meredith. William shook his head.

      ‘We should wait until the second quarter for that. Obviously we’re all hoping that Natural Glow is going to be a big hit.’

      Liz watched as the rest of the board followed William’s cue and started smiling and nodding at this slim chance of rescue. Clearly nobody else had detected the slight waver in her brother’s voice that betrayed panic.

      ‘Quentin, have we got a breakdown of the Natural Glow sales figures?’ she asked, interrupting William’s flow. Quentin nodded and handed out his First Quarter Financial Report. Liz didn’t miss the uncomfortable glance he directed at Eleanor Cohen, general manager of the Natural Glow line, as he passed her a copy. Eleanor was an experienced cosmetics industry executive who’d been recently drafted in for her knowledge of marketing in department stores.

      ‘The first few weeks after the November launch were admittedly slow,’ she said, clearing her throat. ‘But retail conditions for everyone this Christmas were difficult.’

      ‘Not for everyone,’ said Liz.

      Eleanor tried to avoid Liz’s stare, instead directing her comments to William and Meredith.

      ‘However, the press coverage we’ve had is excellent. Allure gave us half a page for the avocado cleansing oil, which is showing all the signs of becoming a cult classic.’

      Liz almost laughed. Already there had been rumours that the drugstores were going to cut back on the retail space they had allocated for Natural Glow because of poor initial sales. If that happened, it was a certain death warrant for the brand.

      ‘Eleanor, let’s face facts,’ said Liz irritably. ‘We are dead in the water if we don’t do something radical immediately to start shifting units.’

      ‘Liz, now is not the time for scaremongering,’ said Eleanor.

      ‘Scaremongering? Natural Glow is haemorrhaging money. It won’t last until fall at this rate.’

      Liz looked over at her brother. Only eighteen months older than her, William looked at least a decade her senior: old and tired, worn out by the responsibility. He had none of Liz’s flair and none of the natural authority of their father; he was just a worker bee, a drone reluctantly forced into the queen’s seat. Liz, on the other hand, had been profiled in the Wall Street Journal as ‘that rare executive, one who combines creative brilliance with astute business sense’. They both knew who should be sitting in William’s chair.

      William cleared his throat. ‘Let’s not forget that the product we have here is good.’

      Liz laughed. ‘Of course it’s good.’

      Before Eleanor Cohen had been brought in to launch Natural Glow, the product had been Liz’s baby. The fresh organics concept had been her idea, and she had spent fifteen hours a day working with industrial designers to perfect the dispensing pumps that mixed the fresh ingredients in-store.

      ‘The problem is not the product,’ said Liz, looking pointedly at Eleanor, ‘the problem is the marketing.’

      ‘Well, it would have been nice to have received this insight before we launched,’ replied Eleanor tartly.

      ‘I assumed marketing was your area of expertise,’ retorted Liz. ‘Wasn’t that why we hired you?’

      ‘Okay, everyone, let’s keep things constructive,’

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