love it,” Aurora praised. “I think we should go all out. Let’s hire male models to serve champagne and pose for pictures with customers as well.”
Zoe tapped her pen on her notebook. “Christmas is several weeks away, but I’m going to get started on the Men of Milan today. We need to create buzz about our fabulous new holiday collection, and I think this is the best way to do it.”
“Who do you have in mind for the calendar?” Davide asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Money is tight right now, so you’ll have a very small budget for this project.”
“No problem. Women love to see men in uniform, right, ladies?”
For the first time since the meeting started, her colleagues smiled and nodded.
“I’m going to hire some local models and dress them up as firefighters, paramedics, police officers and doctors. I’m still working on the logistics, but I should have everything finished early next week.”
“I want the proposal tomorrow,” Aurora said.
Zoe gulped and her pen fell from her hands. Twenty-four hours? Is Aurora out of her mind? That’s not enough time to pull everything together!
A cell phone rang, filling the air with a popular Italian pop song.
Smiling sheepishly, Davide took his cell out of his pocket, switched it off and put it on the table. “Great work, Zoe. I can tell everyone in here is really excited about this holiday promotion, and I’m pumped about it, too. Well done.”
Thrilled that she had her bosses’ support, Zoe jotted down ideas as they came to her. “How long will it take for the plus-size line to be ready?” she asked. “I think it would be cool if we had some women posing in Casa Di Moda gowns draped all over the models, don’t you?”
Anger flashed in Aurora’s eyes, and she spoke through clenched teeth. “We’re not doing the plus-size line. Just the calendar. Got it?”
Worried she’d lose her temper if Aurora yelled at her again, Zoe picked up her glass and sipped her water. The self-made woman struck the fear of God in people, but Zoe wasn’t going to let anyone disrespect her. “I’m disappointed that you won’t consider my suggestion, but you’re the boss, and I respect your decision,” she said with a shrug. “If you don’t want to expand the line and increase sales, there’s nothing I can do.”
Aurora seemed to shrink right before Zoe’s eyes. With her head down and her shoulders hunched, she looked fragile and scared. Turning her face toward the windows, she gazed at the sky and fiddled with her wedding ring. For all her wealth and success, she was stubborn and insecure, and Zoe had never pitied anyone more.
“As you all know, the Christmas Wonderland Ball will be held on December 20, and I don’t have to tell you how important this event is for Casa Di Moda. Everyone who’s anyone will be there, and it’s a great networking opportunity for us all.”
“How many tables will we have this year?” asked the human resources director, straightening in her chair. “Is everyone on staff invited?”
Aurora and Davide shared a troubled look, and Zoe knew the couple was about to share more bad news with the staff. Every year, famous names from fashion, film, politics, business and the world of sports attended the black-tie event, which raised millions of dollars for the local children’s hospital in Milan. It had the most expensive and coveted tickets of the year, and Zoe was looking forward to attending her first Christmas Wonderland Ball.
“I wish everyone could go, but the cost of the ball has dramatically increased this year to 100,000 euros a table. Only the executive team can go,” Aurora explained.
“That’s all for today, everyone.” Davide opened the door. “Back to work.”
Staff members filed out of the room wearing long faces, and Zoe couldn’t recall ever feeling so low. She wanted to stay behind to speak to Aurora privately, but decided against it. Now wasn’t the right time. Filled with sympathy, Zoe watched the couple embrace. It was bad enough Casa Di Moda was struggling financially, and since she didn’t want to make things worse for Aurora and Davide by arguing with them about expanding the line, Zoe grabbed her things and hurried through the open door.
Needing a moment to catch her breath, Zoe ducked inside the ladies’ room and locked herself in a stall. If I’m a valuable member of the team why won’t Aurora and Davide take my ideas seriously? And why did Aurora roll her eyes when I pressed her for details about the plus-size line? Does she want to save Casa Di Moda from bankruptcy or not?
Zoe used the bathroom, then washed her hands. Deep down, she feared things were going to get worse at Casa Di Moda in the coming weeks, and wondered what that would mean for her future. Will I have a job after the holidays? Will I be forced to leave Milan for good?
As Zoe studied her reflection in the mirror, her mind flashed back to her conversation with Romeo Morretti that morning. A thought came to mind. He was a businessman with deep pockets who owned an investment company. Someone with billionaire friends and clients. Maybe if she reached out to him he could help Casa Di Moda—Zoe shook her head, told herself it was a bad idea. No good could come out of calling Romeo Morretti. From what she’d read about him, he was an opportunist who preyed on vulnerable people. Since Zoe didn’t like playing with fire, she pushed the thought from her mind. Yanking open the door, she marched down the hallway toward her office, determined to finish her paperwork before the six o’clock movie premiere.
“I come bearing gifts,” Jiovanni announced, poking his head inside the door of Zoe’s office on Thursday afternoon. Wearing a broad grin, his eyes alight with mischief, he strolled inside the room clutching a wine bottle in one hand and a garment bag in the other. “After that staff meeting from hell this morning, I figured you could use a pick-me-up, so I brought you a snack.”
Hard at work at her desk, Zoe glanced up from the field sales report she was reading and put down her yellow highlighter. “When did Chianti become an afternoon snack?”
“When Aurora announced that Casa Di Moda was floundering and had the nerve to ask us to save it.” His smile disappeared, and a frown crimped his lips. “I almost fell off my chair when she said profits were down eighteen percent from last year. Of course they’re down! What does she expect? She’s controlling as hell and stifling everyone’s creativity.”
All afternoon, Zoe had been holed up in her office, blogging, tweeting and posting about the premiere of Amore in Tuscany at Anteo spazioCinema. The response to her online messages on the Casa Di Moda social media pages was so overwhelming, Zoe knew the event was going to be a success. Celebrities would be in attendance, on hand to mingle with fans and pose for pictures. Zoe was pleased her hard work was paying off. She’d been promoting the event for weeks, and was confident her industry friends would come through for her in a big way at the premiere. In a good mood, she didn’t want to rehash what had happened at the staff meeting, but it was obvious Jiovanni needed to vent. She set aside her report and gave him her full attention, even though she had a million things to do before calling it quits for the day.
“I’m so angry, I could punch something.” Jiovanni put the wine bottle on the mahogany end table and chucked the garment bag on one of the velvet chairs. “My opinions and ideas aren’t valued here, and it’s frustrating.”
Zoe
