26. Lorde
Lorde
I am no stranger to the kinds of rooms where entire lives are made or destroyed.
My ass has seen split dresses backstage at major fashion shows, complete with the words, “Get out of my design, you fat cow!” coming from a coked-up designer.
I’ve even been in a boardroom where someone was given the thumbs up to invest in a major rideshare app that went on to change the world and “disrupt” the delivery industry.
This is the first time I’ve walked into a boardroom thinking about my future. Not only my next headline, the next girl, or Daisy . Even though my new bride is definitely on my mind as I enter.
Fuck. I’m building a future. No histrionics, okay? No, I’m telling that to myself. It’s very important I don’t blow this. I’ve gotta go in there pretending I already have an MBA from Harvard and know what the hell I’m doing. These people won’t know the difference, right?
The DeMonte department store's head offices downtown are located in one of the oldest skyscrapers. Therefore, it’s not the tallest, but it’s a historical building that features the name DeMonte prominently on the marquee subtly lit up above the main entrance.
The flagship department store is two blocks from here.
I bet if I went over there right now, I’d see Daisy posing in summer wear.
She’s one of their most prominent models, going back as far as advertising their toddler clothes on sale.
Old money oozes from the brickwork and tiled marble floors.
Art chosen to make you feel like you should know the artist without a name on the plaque hangs on the walls.
Quiet power, the kind that looks down its nose at you when you’re not looking at it, judges me from one of the security cameras perched in the corner by the elevators.
It smells like family shame in here. Ugh.
I swung by home to change before coming here.
Last night at dinner, Marcello dropped his final ultimatum – if I succeed at this, then I might have a shot.
I could tell he had little to no faith in me.
At least he made sure to tell me it wasn’t “just” because I’m a woman.
It’s my image, you see. Everyone might know who I am by name and face, but they know my mother’s.
Have I mentioned Camilla Sheen is huge in Italy?
Some scandal rag there once claimed she had the “best breasts for the summer” in 1997.
So, I must not look entirely like my usual self.
Or my mother, for that matter. I had the pants for the occasion, but Daisy ordered a navy blouse and gray jacket from the department store to complete a businesswoman’s look.
Before I left, she combed down my hair so it hangs straight past my ears and flirts with my shoulders.
No eyeshadow today. A touch of lipstick and eyeliner.
She agrees with me that I look my most professional with “less is more.” Probably because I’m showing up in tabloids wearing leather, chunky jewelry, and enough cleavage to make Mrs. DeMonte scream.
This is all. The armor of a woman who knows exactly what she’s walking into – and how she’s gonna win the weirdest battle of her life.
I’ve already got the girl, you know. Now I have to build a family with her.
Cristiano and Mr. Franco Antonetti are already seated at the long wooden conference table when I enter. Both in charcoal suits, sporting a signature expression of tolerance stretched thin.
“Ms. Sheen,” Franco greets me with a clipped Italian accent that is more noticeable than Cristiano’s.
It’s a lovely reminder that I’m dealing with a more old-school dude who is used to things being his certain way because that’s how it’s been done around him for decades.
Cristiano at least gets out of the house.
“Mr. Antonetti.” I greet the man who hasn’t received the update that I’m a DeMonte now. “Cristiano.”
He doesn’t return the greeting. All Cristiano says, probably on his father’s behalf, is, “Marcello informed us that you would be coming to speak of our lingering deal with DeMonte’s.
Quite the contrast to what we expected when we hashed it out over the phone the other day.
” He grumbles something in Italian to his father.
The father and son raise their eyebrows in a silent language with no accent.
“Seems a lot has changed in a few days. Why are you here?”
I place a leather folio on the table in front of me and meet his judgmental gaze.
Right. This guy thought he was marrying my Daisy.
How did you used to look at her, huh? Did a mere picture, her image in a bathing suit by the front entrance of the flagship store, make you crazy?
Too bad, bud. I’m the one who is taking her to bed tonight.
And every night after this. “To talk business, of course. On behalf of DeMonte’s. ”
Cristiano leans back, arms crossed to lock in his irritation. “You married Daisy.”
“I did.”
“Without her family’s blessing.”
“If you choose to see it that way. At the moment, we as a family have an understanding.”
“Remember, family is everything,” Daisy had said while brushing lint off my brand-new jacket and ensuring all the tags were removed.
“Keep bringing it back to you being an immutable part of the family. Be confident. You’re a gay woman who eloped with the girl everyone thought Cristiano would be marrying.
You will have the absolute biggest balls in the room. ”
“You expect us to pretend everything’s fine?
” Cristiano grinds his teeth as he holds back from telling me how he feels.
Come on, bro. I’m not saying I can take you since you’re like twice my size and my idea of self-defense is going right for the eyes, but if he thinks I can’t deal with an angry dude getting in my face over a woman we both want…
well, he doesn’t know me very well. That’s my Saturday special.
“Do you think we can walk away from this event with any level of grace expected of us back home? The Italian papers are already reporting on it. It’s causing quite the stir considering you’re… ” His eyes look me up and down. “You.”
“I expect you to look at the full picture,” I say. “You’re businessmen. Look at the numbers. Look at what we can do.” I chuckle. “By that, what Daisy and me can do… together. ”
Cristiano opens his mouth, but Franco lifts a finger. “Let her finish.”
Nice. Somebody wants to clean this up and get the hell out of here.
“I’m not asking to be coddled. What I’m asking for is to be acknowledged for what I bring to the table.
I’ve built a brand. I’ve turned my name into social equity.
Public opinion can shift with a single photo, post, or headline – and I know how to shape those.
We’re not a liability. We’re an asset .”
Cristiano snorts. “Your idea of stability is an Instagram story?”
“No.” The confidence comes easily to me now.
These men aren’t so different from some of the police officers I’ve dealt with after a hard night on the town.
Or the disapproving lawyers who had to clean up a few of my more benign messes after I turned eighteen.
“My idea of stability is keeping your company relevant. You think a deal between two international dynasties matters to the average consumer? It doesn’t.
But a love story? A power couple that people want to follow and cheer on?
That matters. Especially when one of them’s a known, bold face of their generation. ”
“And what if the older generation isn’t interested in being bold?” Franco Antonetti asks.
“Then they’ll get left behind, like the countless generations before them.
The people who are remembered well past death are those who cemented a legacy worth talking about.
Those who took chances in a changing, modern world.
” I can’t put it simpler than that. “Your competition isn’t waiting.
Legacy won’t save you if you refuse to evolve. ”
His fingers tap the table. He’s calculating every word I said into a formula that only he understands right now. Even Cristiano is looking at him for an answer.
“You want the Antonetti-DeMonte deal to go through,” he says.
“Naturally. I’ve got a stake in it as well now.”
“And what do you offer, beyond… attention?”
Are these men used to a womanly smile that isn’t trying to flirt with them?
Or get out of trouble? Because I have no intention of being anything but assertive.
This isn’t only my chance to shine a new direction for my life to follow.
I could actually help Daisy’s family stay relevant and make some much-needed changes to their business.
God knows I know enough people in the industry.
“I offer commitment. I’m in it for the long haul with Daisy. With her comes the DeMonte legacy. I’m going to help you shape the next decade of your brand with international intention.”
Cristiano frowns, still skeptical. “We’re supposed to believe you’ve matured overnight?”
“I’m not here to prove I’ve matured. I’m here to act like it. You can watch and decide for yourselves.”
A pause suddenly bursts between us. Franco Antonetti leans back slightly, studying me like I’m suddenly the best thing to come out and amuse him. Like this is a circus and I’m a dancing monkey. He’s already made up his mind, huh?
“You’re bold,” he finally says. “But bold can be dangerous.”
“Bold built both of your empires. Daisy and I aren’t the exception.
We’re merely the new generation coming in and saying how things are now.
Look, instead of fighting it… well, the best success stories happen when multiple viewpoints are willing to work together, right?
You bring in new people for new ideas, but it’s the old guard with experience who sometimes knows when to step in and say no, not right now.
But you also have to be willing to fail sometimes. ”
Franco looks at Cristiano, then back at me. “And if we go forward with the deal?”
“Then we do it as partners. No backroom negotiations trying to undo my marriage. No pressure on Daisy to walk away from me. I won’t stand in the way of business being business – but I also won’t let business bulldoze my wife.”
Cristiano keeps his mouth shut. It’s clear he still doesn’t like me one bit – for obvious reasons – but if he won’t drag me through the mud for the sake of his family, then I’ve already won.
Franco rises. “We’ll consider your offer. Privately.”
It’s my turn to get up. “Thank you.”
“Don’t take it the wrong way if you don’t hear from me directly. I’ll be in contact with Marcello since he’s still the one in charge. I’m sure he’ll follow up with you. After all…” He sighs. “It sounds like you’re the other daughter he’s never had.”
Cristiano lingers as his father steps into the hallway. I meet his gaze, ready for him to start something.
“I get it,” I say to break the silence. “You thought I was a phase. But I hope I’ve made it clear that I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to make it work with Daisy.”
He doesn’t reply. But his silence says more than any snide remark would have.
He’s been humiliated. But he’s not going to take it out on me.
No, I’m the interloper who got caught up in this as well.
Ultimately, this was him and Daisy’s father promising things that were never going to happen, and this poor guy believed it for a few days.
When I head downstairs, I come across Marcello sitting in a side room by security. He’s nursing a cappuccino when he sees me. I smell Franco’s cologne, implying I’d missed him down here.
“I didn’t think you had it in you,” Marcello says when he sees me standing in the doorway. I’ve got the leather folio dangling from my hand and a giant lump in my stomach. Finally, the stress is catching up to me.
“I didn’t either,” I admit.
“You kept your wit on a leash.”
“Barely.”
“You did good.” He pauses. “You showed up like someone who actually wants to be part of this family. You know, like an old-school job interview.”
Naturally, only he would equate the two. “It’s almost like I…” No, come on Lorde, keep the snark at bay until he’s officially made you part of the family. “I do. It’s because I do.”
Marcello nods and holds up his cappuccino cup at me.
“Welcome to the table, Sheen.”
I don’t respond with a joke. This is too much of a heartfelt moment crashing into me.
As I accept a cup of cappuccino – I don’t even like this stuff!
– I think about all that’s happened in the past two months.
The past week. From single, flirty, and thriving to married and part of an Italian family department store dynasty.
What the fuck.
I slump in a plastic chair at the folding card table that stands in for the concierge and security’s break room. Marcello holds out his pinky as he wobbles his cup in his hand. We say nothing as I sip from my cup and wonder what the fuck I’ve done.
Besides the obvious. Like, fallen in love and beholden myself to a woman like Daisy – and her father, a man who knows people who knows people.
At least life will remain interesting after I’ve settled down! Nothing worse than boredom.
I honestly don’t know how I could ever be bored again. I’ve got all the ingredients for a perfectly acceptable but crazy life.
The perfect girl.
A great job.
And a whole future of making our lives ours.
Now, how do we break the news to everyone that Daisy and I are married? Suppose that’s what I’ll negotiate with Marcello once we finish our drinks. But for now, it’s us sitting in silence with a giant industrial fan humming in the background, creaking on plastic chairs and sipping cappuccinos.
Like I said. Far from boring. Right my style.