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Authors: Caleb Alexander

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BOOK: Just Another Damn Love Story
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“When we get back to New York, I’m going to find a new general counsel for the company,” Sterling told him.

Wilson frowned.  “Why?  What’d I do wrong?”

“You’re being fired from being the company attorney, because I'm making you a vice president.”

Wilson wrapped his arms around his friend.  “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing,”  Sterling said, embracing his friend.  “I should have done it a long time ago.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet.  This new expansion project, it’s your baby.  You make it happen.  But, if it crumbles, then you’re back to being the company attorney.”

“Thanks, Sterling.  I won’t let you down.”

Sterling nodded.  “Now, just do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Let me enjoy the little bit of time that I have left down here in Florida.  No more business for now.”

Wilson smiled and nodded.  “No more business.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

The new headquarters for Mocha Magazine were the twenty fifth floor of the Time Life Building.  The spanking new headquarters came courtesy of the magazine’s new owners, AOL Time Warner.  AOL Time Warner had plenty of money, and could afford to house their acquisitions in nothing but the best.  It was a far cry from the magazine’s early days, when it was struggling to stay afloat.  They were lean days, but they were the days that Laquisha remembered fondly.

Laquisha Denny started Mocha while she was still in college.  She worked full time while going to school, and poured all of her resources into her tiny magazine.  She shopped it at beauty shops throughout Harlem, and then Brooklyn, and finally Queens, before taking it to Jersey and then Philly.  By the time Mocha hit B-More, and D.C. she actually was averaging about seventy pages a month in the magazine, and thought that she was hot stuff.

Mocha went national after hooking up with a couple of college buddies who were now working for various distributors to large national chain stores.  They helped get Mocha on the shelves in Houston, Dallas, Chicago, Atlanta, and Los Angeles.  The rest was history.  Mocha spread across the country faster than a Brad and Angelina rumor.  And then the big dogs came sniffing at her door.

She turned them down at first.  Peterson’s, Murdoch’s outfit, Buffet’s group, various media investors from England, France, and India.  Finally, AOL Time Warner came with a check that was just too damn large to say no to.  Plus, they allowed her to stay on as editor-in-chief, with full creative and executive control over the magazine.  She could hire and fire, allocate their dollars any way she saw fit, and she had final say over what went into the magazine that she poured her heart and soul into building.  It was a win-win situation.  But still, she was a little bitter.

The check had been nice, but still, it was peanuts compared to the numbers that the magazine was doing now.  She kicked herself in the shin everyday for selling out.  The millions that the magazine was raking in monthly could have been hers, all hers.  But she took the quick payout, and now she had to come to work everyday and watch someone else reap the benefits of her hard work.  Perhaps that was why she was pissed off all of the time, she thought.  She knew that she was bitter, and she knew that she came across as a bitch to her employees.  But after all, watching someone in Atlanta make millions of dollars each month, off of a company that she built, would piss off even the most saintly person.  And Mother Teresa she was not.

Laquisha had grown up in Pink House.  At least until her parents divorced, and then she moved in with her grandmother in Do-or-die-Bedstye.  She had it rough.  Crooklyn was no joke back in the day.  Money was tight, school was a survival camp, and dodging the bullets and the dope boys on the way home everyday was like an Olympic sport.  It was enough for her to not get pregnant like her older sister, and an even bigger accomplishment to graduate from high school.  Managing to go to Community College of New York, and then NYU was something bordering on miraculous in her neighborhood.  But she made it.  And now, she was peering out of the corner office, on the twenty fifth floor, of the Time Life Building.

“Come in!”  Laquisha barked, as the knock came to her door.

Kimberly timidly pushed open the door, and she and her co-workers crept into their boss’s office.

“Come in and close the door, ladies, and Jerome,” Laquisha told them.  She waved to some chairs arrayed around her office.  “Have a seat.”

“Ladies would have been acceptable,” Jerome told her.

“Jerome,
you
are gender confused,” Laquisha told him.  “I am not.”

“Who said I was confused?”  Jerome shot back.  “Having this big old penis does not make me a man.  I’m every women…”

Laquisha held up her hand silencing him.  “We are not going to have this conversation today!  I called y’all asses in here to talk about some numbers.  Numbers that are way down.  When the numbers are down, revenue is down, and that means, my income that’s based on a percentage of what this magazine pulls in, is down.  Y’all playing with my money, and we all know, that Laquisha don’t play with her money!”

“I just pulled in the Sean Jean account!”  Pamela protested.

“That was last month,” Laquisha told her.

“But they took out a year’s worth of adds!”  Pamela shot back.  “That was a three hundred thousand dollar score!”

“So what!”  Laquisha told her.  “Do you think that you’re supposed to just sit on your ass for the rest of the year?”

“I pulled in the MAC account before that,” Pamela told her.  “And I scored Revlon before that!”

“What have you done for me lately?”  Laquisha asked.  “See, you made me get all Janet on you!  You know I hate to bring out my Janet.”

“I scored the Tommy Hilfiger account just last week,” Jerome told her.

“Yeah, and we had to discount five thousand dollars a month to get it!”  Laquisha shouted.  “Don’t you even mention that bootleg deal you made with RJ Reynolds!  Some of our other advertisers were pissed about that cigarette ad.  Not to mention corporate,
and
some of our readers.”

“I got Revlon,” Jerome added. 

“Two months ago!”  Laquisha told him.  “Don’t make me go Janet on you!”

Kimberly raised her hand.

“What?”  Laquisha shouted.

“I got a lead from Mercedes, and from Allstate,”Kimberly told her.

“What happened to the Black Expressions deal?”  Laquisha asked, tilting her head to the side and pursing her lips.

“The meeting went well,” Kimberly said nervously.  “I’m still waiting to hear back from them.”

“What else you got coming up?”  Laquisha asked.

“I have meetings with Lays, with the Air Force, with Pepsi, and with Soft Sheen Carson,” Kimberly told her.

“And you?”  Laquisha asked, turning toward Jerome.

“I’m meeting with the Army today,”  Jerome told her.  “If they don’t ask, I won’t tell.”

Pamela and Kimberly burst into laughter.

“Don’t encourage him!”  Laquisha shouted.  “What else you got?  People, you are my advertising executives.  You are the
life blood
of the magazine.  If you don’t produce, we don’t survive!”

“I’m meeting with American Airlines tomorrow, Lustrasilk on Tuesday, McDonald’s on Tuesday afternoon, Pantene on Wednesday, and Victoria Secret on Thursday.”

Laquisha nodded, and turned toward Pamela.

Pamela exhaled.  “I got Walmart on Tuesday, Jeep on Wednesday, S C Johnson & Sons on Thursday, GMAC on Friday morning, Pfizer on Friday afternoon, and Clinique this afternoon.”

Laquisha clapped her hands together.  “Let’s get out there and get that money.”

Pamela, Kimberly, and Jerome turned and headed for the door. 

Jerome shoved Kimberly and Pamela.  “You heard her.  You bitches better get out there and get pimp Quisha’s money!”

The three of them broke into laughter as they exited the office and headed down the hall.

 

 

*****

 

 

Sterling packed away more of his belongings into the cardboard box on his desk, so that he could clear out his office for Wilson.  He had decided to move Wilson into
his
office, and finally clean out the large corner office that the company had been using for storage.  He would take
that
office, and move the boxes that now occupied it, into a proper storage closet elsewhere in the building.

Wilson strolled into the office carrying a white handbag and matching white leather trench.  Both had large gold letters printed all over them.

“What is SPQR?”  Sterling asked.

“It’s the coat of arms of the Roman Empire,”  Wilson explained.

“White with gold letters, I love the look, love the design of the bag and the trench, but what’s with those letters in particular?”  Sterling asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Sterling, we pretend that our main corporate headquarters is in Milan, just so people will believe that Vespasian is an
Italian
company,”  Wilson explained.  “We have to put out merchandise that pays homage to Italian history or that has Italian themes.”

“Yeah, but why so over the top?”

Wilson laughed.  “You’re used to bespoke men’s suits.  All dark and double breasted.  Your idea of fashion excitement is adding subtle pinstripes.  Let me handle the women’s fashions.”

Sterling waved his hand.  “You got it.”

Marleena, Sterling’s secretary, strolled into the office holding up a pair of white, open toed, high heels with a gold SPQR logo as the toe strap.

“Now those are fly!”  Sterling told them.  “Is this the stuff we talked about doing months ago?”

Wilson nodded. 

“It turned out great,” Sterling said while nodding.  “Any luck finding a designer?”

“Not yet,” Wilson exhaled, and plopped down in the chair behind the desk.  “I’m still searching for one with that right look.  I interviewed three designers this morning.”

“How’s the executive search coming along?”

Wilson shook his head.

“Stay at it, we’ll find someone.”

“You ready for the rest of the material?”  Wilson asked.

Sterling turned, leaned back against the desk and folded his arms.  One by one, various models strolled into the room, showcasing Vespasian’s latest designs.

“Love that suit,”  Sterling told Marleena.  “Take notes.  We need a three button, English version, in the same material.  This pants suit coming up, needs to be flared more at the ankle.  Also, I want the same jacket, but with a straight pants leg variation, and also a variation with a long skirt.  Love that suit.  That one is perfect as well.”

“Marleena, are these Ford models, or the new ones from Wilhelmina?”   Wilson asked.

“Wilhelmina,” Marleena told him.  “Also, Fed Ex delivered the ties from the manufacturer today.”

“I want to see them after this viewing,” Sterling told her. 

“They probably delivered the scarves as well,” Wilson added.

“We are really going through with this expanded women’s line?”  Sterling asked.

Wilson nodded.  “It’s about time.”

“I showed the reversible purse to my daughter, the one with the glow-in-the-dark V’s, and she went crazy over it,”  Marleena told him.  “I think you have a hit on your hands with that one.”

“What’s this?”  Sterling asked, stopping one of the models.  He clasped her forearm and held up her hand.

“That’s our wrist bag,”  Wilson explained.  “It’s a tiny handbag, attached to a thick bracelet.  It’ll be great for formals, or for anywhere women just want to carry a small fold.

Sterling nodded.  “I like it.”

Marleena nodded.  “Another hit.”

“And now, for the
coup de grace
…”  Wilson stood, and waved his hand towards the door.  “Our company’s first take on the little black dress!”

A model strutted into the office wearing a form fitting black dress that stopped at her knees.

Sterling nodded.

“With the right accessories, you can wear it to work, change accessories and wear it to a cocktail party, change accessories and wear it to a formal or to church,”  Wilson said excitedly.  “It’s stylish, versatile, and absolutely stunning!”

“Who did it for us?”  Sterling asked.

“That little Italian girl that works in our Milan office,”  Wilson explained.

“She’s good,” Sterling told him.  “Well, I like what I’ve seen so far.  Especially the men’s line up, and the new handbags and shoes.”

“Well, you know where to sign,” Wilson told him.  “We can get everything into production within two weeks.”

Sterling nodded.  “You sign.  That’ll be your new job.  And we need to get on the ball, and get some designers in here and get this thing off the ground.  Also, we need to find someone to run the whole kit and caboodle.  Think we can steal someone from another fashion house?”

“With what you pay?”  Wilson asked with a smile.  “Not likely.”

Sterling laughed.  “Let’s just keep our eyes and our options open.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Kim absolutely loved her apartment.  She had managed to secure a primo two bedroom apartment smack dab in the middle of Times Square.  Her building, 1600 Broadway, was legendary for its location and views.  Her apartment over looked the famous Candy Factory just off of the square.  In fact, she could take in the New Years celebration from the comfort of her living room, or venture out onto her balcony to listen to the countdown and watch the ball drop. 

1600 Broadway had concierge service, on-site parking, a rooftop swimming pool and recreation area, and an in building spa and workout center. Her father’s credit and financial support had really helped her living situation.  She wouldn’t trade her apartment for any in the world.

Kimberly’s furnishings were straight out of Ikea.  They were very sheik, very modern, very chic.  She had a cream colored curving sectional that took up most of her living area.  She had bamboo end tables and a bamboo coffee table that matched the bamboo flooring of the apartment, as well as the bamboo cabinetry in her kitchen.  Her kitchen was a study in modernity itself.  In addition to the Bamboo cabinetry, it boasted concrete counter tops, and stainless steel Viking appliances.  Her dining area was taken up by a space saving glass dining table with ultra modern birch wood chairs.  Above the concrete mantle of her fireplace, rested her pride and joy; a seventy-two inch flat panel television.  The T.V. had been a house warming gift from her mother.  Otherwise, it would have remained in the electronics store.  There was no way she would have been able to spend six grand on a television.

BOOK: Just Another Damn Love Story
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