Chapter 11
HARPER
Callie takes the task of training me to a whole new level.
She’s the perfect teacher, kind and thoughtful, but she doesn’t let anything slide, which I’m grateful for.
I grab a second notebook from the stationery cupboard and begin taking copious notes. Callie will be here for less than two weeks. I can’t mess this up.
“Alex likes his routine,” she says.
“Morning coffee, Americano, with three shots,” I say.
A man after my own heart, and my brothers. Alex and Gabriel would get on like a house on fire.
“Perfect,” Callie says. “Next—”
“Reports need to be on his desk along with the day’s itinerary for him to go over, whilst drinking said coffee.”
Callie chuckles, biting her lip as Alex comes out of his office.
“Callie, do you have the reports I need for the Henderson meeting tomorrow?” he asks, his gaze locked on Callie, ignoring me.
It’s been the same since I arrived. A brief nod, then nothing.
Alex directs all his questions and requests to Callie as if I’m her invisible sidekick.
I should be grateful, blending into the background and all that.
However, it’s getting a little tedious. I’m about to take over.
Ignoring me does not bode well for our future.
“They’re on their way. Colin had some final changes he wanted to make.”
Alex harrumphs. “Get them to me as soon as possible,” he says, before turning and disappearing back into his office.
Callie rolls her eyes.
“I’m not sure he’s happy I’m here,” I say, my shoulders drooping.
Callie shakes her head. “He doesn’t like change.
Me leaving… he has a lot on his plate. New collections, fashion week in a few months, photoshoots.
Remember, Alex is the bridge between the St Clair creative vision and commercial reality.
The buck stops with him when it comes to ensuring the brand remains exclusive, relevant and profitable.
There are many people out there who want what he has,” she says.
“And don’t forget, I know how he works, his likes and dislikes.
There’s going to be a period of adaptation for you both until you find your own routine. ”
I pull a face, and she laughs.
“You will. You’ve been here for two days, and you’re already picking up the systems faster than I could have imagined. You’re a smart cookie, Brooke. You’ve got this.”
If I don’t, Alessandro will get one of the women he interviewed, whether he likes them or not, because at least they’ll be familiar with what’s needed.
If I’m honest, the past two days have been fun. I’m enjoying the mental challenge. I’ve always loved learning new things. Mum always said I’m resourceful and quick at assessing situations.
Callie’s inbox pings.
“Great, the report is here,” Callie says, pulling it up and sending it to the printer in one of the other rooms. All reports are printed behind locked doors so no one can intercept them.
“I’m in need of a toilet break. Little Button here is pushing on my bladder.”
I smile, thinking of the number of times Leah said the same thing when she was pregnant with Callum.
It must be a thousand times worse now she’s carrying twins.
My stomach twists sharply at the thought of what I’m missing, Callum growing up and Leah blooming during her pregnancy. I blink a few times.
“Are you okay?” Callie asks, a crease forming between her brows.
“Sorry, yes,” I say, flashing her my brightest smile. “Something in my eye.”
Callie looks unconvinced but doesn’t call me out, even when I grab a tissue and dab at the offending lid. Instead, she pushes herself up.
“Hold down the fort while I’m gone,” she says.
I pull out my notebook and begin looking through my notes.
Callie’s phone rings.
Oh fuck!
No, not oh fuck. You’ve got this!
“Alessandro Bianchi’s office. Brooke speaking. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Brooke,” an American voice comes over the phone. “No Callie today?”
“Callie has just stepped away.”
“Ah, you’re the Callie in training? Welcome,” he says warmly. “I’m Pete from the London office. I need to arrange a meeting with the big man and our Italian supplier. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course.”
I pull up Alessandro’s diary as Callie showed me.
“He has availability after lunch next Thursday, or Friday morning,” I say.
“With the time difference, we may be safer going with Friday.”
He gives me the supplier’s name and his own.
“Thanks, Pete, I’ll send confirmation as soon as it’s arranged.”
“Great, have a nice day, Brooke.”
“You too.”
I stare at the screen and open my notebook. We’ve gone through appointments and meetings in great depth, mainly within the New York office but, nevertheless, it can’t be that difficult.
I log the meeting, add the attendees and hit send, letting out a sigh of relief.
Callie returns, with the bound report.
“Anything exciting happen?”
“Pete from the London office rang wanting to set up a meeting with Alessandro and the Italian supplier.”
“Excellent, did it go okay? Pete’s a real sweetie,” she says.
“It did. I’ve added the meeting to the calendar.”
“Did you align the time zones?”
I shift my head slightly, my eyes widening. Time zones? Wouldn’t that be automatic?
I shake my head.
Callie lowers herself into the chair, turning the monitor towards her.
She pulls up the meeting.
“Look at the meeting times for Pete and the Italian supplier.”
“Oh shit,” I say, shooting her a panicked look.
“It’s fine. It’s fixable,” she says with a smile.
“I assumed it would be automatic.”
“It should be, but it’s worth checking, especially if Alex has been travelling, or one of the others. Sometimes it doesn’t always reset.”
I grab my notebook as Callie cancels the current meeting and enables automatic time adjustment. I scribble down some additional notes while she rebooks the meeting. The last thing I need is Alex turning up to an empty meeting—or the suppliers doing the same.
“Thank you again,” I say, dropping back against the chair. “That was a stupid mistake and one I should have picked up on.”
“You’re welcome, and Brooke,” she says. “You will make mistakes. You’re on a steep learning curve. I made hundreds when I first started. Sophia had the patience of a saint. I just made sure I learned from each one and tried not to repeat any.”
I make a few more notes.
“Now take this to Alex,” she says, handing me the bound report she just retrieved.
I jump up, grab the paperwork, and head to his door. I knock and wait.
“Come in,” a voice calls from deep inside.
I twist the handle and enter, holding the report like a shield in front of me.
“The report you wanted.”
His head shoots up at the sound of my voice.
“Put it there,” he says, pointing dismissively to the edge of his desk.
Alex returns his attention to the screen in front of him.
I cross the room, placing it on the desk, then retreat towards the door.
Nothing.
It’s like I don’t even exist.
But then again, I don’t, I remind myself.
Will I ever be able to fill Callie’s shoes?
“Is there something you want, Brooke?” Alessandro says, looking up.
“Er, no. Is there anything else you need?”
He quirks an eyebrow, and I feel my cheeks heat.
Annoyed at myself for letting him get to me, I want to stamp my foot.
He looks at his watch. “Can you ask Callie to order my usual lunch? I’m going to be caught up with this document now that it has arrived.”
“Of course,” I say, wondering how Callie handles his intensity and always manages to stay one step ahead of him.
Will I ever be able to anticipate what this man needs? Or am I going to be forever chasing my tail?
At least Callie is coming back, or I hope she does. Not that it matters, I’m only here until everything is sorted out at home and my life can resume as normal.
I realise I haven’t moved and that I’m staring.
“I’ll get right on it,” I say, only to receive a harrumph from across the room.
I let myself out in record time and groan as I make my way back to the desk. Callie looks up.
“He wants his usual lunch,” I say.
“Which is?”
“Chicken breast on rye bread with salad, no onion and no mayo,” I reel off, earning myself a grin.
“If you call down to the cafeteria, they’ll know what he orders. It’s usually either the chicken special or the steak, sometimes just a snack. They all know what to include or exclude if you tell them it’s for Alex.”
I bite my lip.
I need to be competent and channel Callie. It’s my only protection.
“I’m on it,” I say with more confidence than I feel.
Work smarter, not merely harder, in this case.
I’m the master of my own destiny. I’m competent, resourceful and intelligent.
Alessandro Bianchi is not going to get the better of me.
I need to remember who I’m hiding beneath this exterior.
I’m a Frazer. I’ve never failed before. I’m not about to start now.