Chapter 20
C AMILLE A NDREWS HAD been the only child of Edouard and Adelaide Chàvous. She was the heiress of Noir cosmetics. Her father had inherited half of the empire built by Alphonse Chàvous and Cyrille Chennault. Of course, the Chàvous family later seized all of Noir after the famous fallout between Edouard and Charles. Therefore, Carrah needed to understand why her mother had been silent in all of this.
Except she stopped mid-stride, and her mind rewound to a few days ago when Camille approached her subtly about the marriage proposal from Trent. Carrah restarted, marching over to the house with Beau and Aubrey on her heels, begging her to reconsider approaching their mother.
She couldn’t. The undue stress and overwhelming expectation for her to commit all of her time to developing product lines was unreasonable… and it would hinder her from chasing her own dreams. Nothing made sense.
The generational wealth had been enough to last three lifetimes. Before her great-grandfather even dreamed of founding a company, her white French great-great-grandfather had found a way to circumvent Louisiana Civil Code and ensure his descendants inherited all of his real estate and possessions. The real estate they held in the French Quarter and throughout the world, coupled with trust funds and various investments, made this situation improbable in her logical mind. Surely there was enough money somewhere to bail Noir out of trouble.
“I don’t understand how this happened,” Carrah blurted, finally responding to her siblings, “or why I’ve been kept in the dark.”
Aubrey reached out to comfort her sister, but Carrah walked faster. “It wasn’t intentional.”
“Then what was it? By mistake? I somehow find that hard to believe.”
“It wasn’t intentional for the reasons you may think,” her brother clarified, validating her point.
Carrah couldn’t help the way she dismissed him just before her hand turned the knob on the door. She entered the house with rational consciousness streaming as she considered how Noir had profited tremendously during the last sixty years off of revolutionizing concentrated pigments that addressed the varying shades of melanated skin. The bold affirmation of declaring Black beauty had allowed Noir to emerge as a leader in an industry that often skipped over color palettes that complemented darker skin tones.
No way could they be in trouble after decades of ensuring Black beauty persisted. But if they really were, Carrah was selfishly more afraid of what that meant for her. How would she be able to leave? Their father was out of practice in the lab since he directed operations. Aubrey was only great at marketing, and the jury was still out on Beau’s financial stewardship, given what she was hearing. Notions of breaking free seemed futile in this moment.
The quiet lingering within the walls of the Andrews house was in complete contradiction to the anxiety raging within. What, how, when, did the contract matter… were fighting in her head as she searched the downstairs for her mother in her normal spots.
Finally Dominic casually informed them as he made way to the kitchen that their mother was with their father in his office. Carrah hesitated. She hadn’t counted on her father being present because she hoped to have her mother’s vulnerability in discussing how the Chàvous family legacy got put on the chopping block. His presence could potentially impact her mother’s answers and right now she needed transparency. Something that should have been given by her father since he managed the day-to-day operations after her mother had made the choice a long time ago to be in the home and raise the children full-time.
Carrah started walking to their father’s office with her older siblings remaining in tow. She peeked in the half-closed door and saw her father, then knocked.
“Come in,” he replied. He drew back, watching as the three entered, and their mother stood from her chair. “To what do we owe this highly odd pleasure?”
“Carrah—”
“I can speak for myself, Beau, but thank you.” Carrah turned her attention from her brother and then focused on their parents. “The skin-correcting serum is not ready nor will it be anytime soon. Aubrey and Beau have informed me that the timeline doesn’t work, and without it, Noir has accepted a death sentence. Is that true?” She purposely trapped her mother within her gaze.
Camille shifted in her chair, crossing her ankles and releasing a long exhale. “Unfortunately, yes.” She avoided making eye contact. “I traded something a long time ago”—she swallowed hard—“and, well, I guess I am finally paying the price. I only wish I’d known then what I know now.” She finally glanced up and met Carrah’s stare.
“I will not submit to the pains of regret. Yet, had I honored my father’s original will of the company I would have maintained operating control and in that you, Carrah, would not have ever played second fiddle to your siblings’ jealousy.” Her mother’s brown eyes sliced at Aubrey and Beau then landed back on Carrah. “The innovation in the revamp of the mascara, and of course, the fragrance… it’s how we want all our cosmetics to sell. Butler Savings Bank also provided that feedback in their recent investment audit in addition to restating their concerns about our liquidity while waiting for you to finish the serum for release.”
Carrah’s hands trembled and forced her to grip the empty chair in front of her. Had she been in the lab instead of writing…
Beau must’ve sensed her comprehension of the dire straits Noir found itself in and decided to take advantage. He proceeded to express his disappointment to their parents over Carrah not holding true to the timelines she had previously communicated. The banter between everyone else in the room went in one ear and escaped the other in the same way she wished she could.
“Dammit, Carrah,” her father said, clapping his hands once, “I acknowledge that family circumstances slowed your work down. I truly appreciate the care you gave your mother. Yet this was something you had already been tinkering with. What took your focus away? We need it.” The expression upon her father’s face as he worked to steady his breath filled Carrah with uncertainties. How could she take a step forward on the path Hurston House paved when Noir’s was in need of repair? Entertaining the gravity of her thoughts humbled her before her family. Carrah then moved around the chair and pulled it behind her until her knees touched the front of her father’s desk and she sat. The frown upon his face softened. This had been their safe space since she was old enough to mix things together when they worked as teacher to pupil.
She took her time, slowly explaining in scientific terms how the emulsion had separated, while drawing a picture and labeling the serum’s ingredients. Her mother looked on over her shoulder with approval as her siblings chimed in, seeking to cut corners on science and find a way to get the formula ready for market in enough time to quell the demands issued by the bank.
“Do you not get it?” Carrah snapped over her shoulder at Beau and Aubrey, who had remained at her back. She had to be the one to speak up since her father’s patience was far longer than hers. “If we rush this then we risk consumers having a product that changes color, odor, maybe even texture.”
“A terrible shelf life,” Camille shot back at her oldest children.
“Yes, it’s a disaster waiting to happen when compounding is not optimal. Are we willing to risk our reputation on a recall? Because beyond us not having money, we won’t have a name.”
The room became pin drop silent. She waited for her parents to say something and it was clear Beau and Aubrey were waiting too. When another minute passed, Carrah got up from the chair and proceeded to leave. Before she was out the door her father cleared his throat, effectively halting her steps.
“You’re right,” he admitted, and Camille released an audible sigh of relief. “The legacy of our family is in jeopardy.”
“Everything,” Camille whispered. “Everything,” she repeated louder, gritting her teeth, “my family built from the ground up is at risk of a hostile takeover since Butler Savings was brought into the fold.” Her mother sliced her father with both her words and gaze. “I will not rehash my conversation with your father, but I should’ve been made aware of the deal with Butler Savings, despite my illness. Never would I have agreed to a marriage for their money,” she hissed.
“Cam—”
Her mother threw a hand up, demanding her father stop talking.
In a flash, Melvin moved from his desk and kneeled at Camille’s side. His hands reached for her and a faint smile touched his lips. “I am sorry, you know that. I believe I’ve found us a way out of the agreement with BSB. It may ruffle some feathers, but it will save us and give Carrah time to get the formula market ready. Give me a few days. I won’t let you down this time.”
“Is there anything I can do to assist?” Beau stepped forward.
“Not yet. When the time is right, I will need all three of you to fall in line. This company means everything to me and your mother. I never want her to regret giving me the opportunity to run it.”
Carrah nodded, acquiescing to being the good daughter. How could she even think about publishing a book when her family’s entire legacy hung in the balance?