The Plan
'Excuse me?,'
Carol placed a perfectly manicured hand on top of her leather-bound director's notes and skirted round the table towards the young photographer, hastily packing his disorganised array of prints away.
'Mr McElroy wasn't it?'
Her head tilted and eyes bemused as she urged the young man to talk.
Danny was hesitant. Why had she waited until everyone had filed out of the board room to approach him. Had he done something wrong? Perhaps she didn't like the direction he wanted to take with the shoots coming up this season? Had he been too persistent and deluded by his own ambition? He was, after all only the assistant photographer on the board.
Shit.
'Hi. That's right, Ms Aird. Sorry I'm taking such a long time to pack everything away. I didn't intend to show you guys this many, I guess I just got carried away...'
She was standing next to him now. As an equal. His fear dissipated from him, he could sense the taller woman, eyes downcast, with curiosity and intrigue over his work. His.
'I wanted to thank you for the opportunity. It was so great to shoot in New York, I know these are only preliminary, ground work, if you like. I can do much better Ms. Aird, truly. Not that you'll need me to take the pictures for the real thing...' He trailed off again, everything that left his mouth, cracking the already fragile façade of this situation. Like the graffitied Brooklyn walls, she was currently admiring.
She simply shrugged. Lifted her eyes, looked pensively and grinned.
'Actually that's what I wanted to talk to you about. You have true talent, Danny. The compositions and forms here, are so brilliantly captured...'
She traced her hand down in rivulets, against the remaining prints splayed out on the table.
'I happen to know that Ms. Gerhard is under a lot of stress recently. With all that you've done for this fashion house, your work here...even though I'm ashamed to say that I've never met you in person before... your work hasn't gone unnoticed. I'm sorry I feel like such a terrible boss!'
He noticed that flash of insecurity, of vulnerability. Something he had never thought possible.
She chewed her lip dejectedly.
'Anyway. I want to delegate a greater responsibility to you this season. You've shadowed Abby for long enough, I would like you to be in charge of the shots and decide on locations, perhaps we can give her some time off. She could remain here in Paris and keep the editing and campaigns running smoothly. I would love it if you would, but please don't feel obliged to take it. I know you have a young child and I busy life, maybe a bigger responsibility is not what you're looking for but I had to ask. I don't suppose you would, would you?'
After this hesitant soliloquy, Carol sank down into the level swivel chair behind her. Knuckles white as she clung to the arms of it, waiting.
Danny followed suit and sat adjacent, turning to face her, hands contorting in his lap. It was the first time he had seen her, seen her properly that is. Maybe she wasn't the Carol Aird everyone perceived. She wasn't blasé or self-assured. Not merciless as the vine-like rumours that entangled her image whispered, nor confident, even. She was flawed. And that made her human to him. Yet through all this she still managed to seem transcendent, more pure without even trying.
Her eyes flickered restlessly, it must have been nearly half a minute since her offer had been laid out.
Shaking from his reverie he formed a response. All his dreams and ambitions were finally being realised. Everything he had worked for was in his grasp. But in this woman's presence he felt more calm than ever.
'Mrs Aird I..'
'Call me Carol, please.' She interjected, her gentle voice leaded with desperation.
'Carol. I would love to accept. You can't even imagine how much this means to me, it's something I'm struggling to comprehend and I'm so flattered by your conviction and belief in me.'
Cut the crap, McElroy.
'I do, however, have a few reservations. Are you sure you know what you're doing? Because I don't. This is literally everything I've worked for but are you positive with the direction I'm taking this. More contemporary, less elitist. I need to be honest and clear with you here. I want to show your designs off in a contemporary way. 'Haute Couture à la rue.' If you will. Fashion needs to be accessible, and realised in the conforms of a whole society, not just those who have taken it for granted. I know it's maybe unorthodox, I haven't grown up with it like you have but I feel as though it will enhance our image. Chanel will juxtapose the reputation we have built... elegance, style and glamour with the modesty, vibrancy and wackiness that we see on the streets, a cacophony of the nuanced in-betweens. It will also reinstate old values. Gabrielle's fight for practicality, with a twist of luxury...I don't know how to approach it exactly, or if it's even plausible.'
She could see everything back. The excitement in his face, the furious movement of his hands, the vigour with in which he spoke. This was his dream. She would make it known.
'Hmm' Carol swivelled delicately on her chair. 'I can see your perspective, whats more, I really like it. I think it will do the company good, do y'know I think it will do me some good.'
Now she smiled, those steely eyes sparkled, almost as if to challenge him.
'I do have some conditions. Firstly, I need a portfolio, of exactly the kind of things you have in mind. The photos from New York looked brilliant, if you want to shoot some in Paris then by all means do so. I want to see this by the end of the month, collections... themes...ideas...set-ups. I know it's a big ask but persevere. Use what feels right, throw the rest away...I also want you to keep this under wraps, for now. Don't involve anybody from work, don't talk to anybody. This is our secret for now.'
Danny was intrigued, momentarily by the imagination of a child he could see, layered and enshrined in fine fabrics and pearls in a sophisticated pretence, but further by the clandestine inflation of his plan.
He smiled. With his mouth and his eyes. Ascending to go, he held out his hand for his superior to finalise everything and check goodbye. To confirm that he wasn't really dreaming.
She used it to glide up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Somewhat stunned, he nodded.
'That is the Parisian way, Mr McElroy. Don't tell me you still haven't got used to it!' She offered as a parting joke.
She turned to go, a mischievous bounce in her step.
'Au Revoir.' Her voice floating like a bittersweet melody through the air, diminuendoed with the click of the door.
And with that she was gone. Danny just shook his head in disbelief.
18.05.16
M. Aird,
I know you send the end of the month but I just couldn't wait.
Three possible developments since the last time we spoke.
1) We employ homeless people to make aspects of the range, giving them a fair wage and contributing a % of the sales to their charity.
2) We used SOME natural/ recyclable materials
3) We just select total unassuming models off of the streets.
We'll do it with CHANEL fluidity and grace, as always. Not to mention take a more humanitarian stance as 'the approachable designer.'
Let me know what you think, reach me through Abby's office or here if you prefer:
+(33)5-4197-389
Best Wishes,
-D
The note was scrawled with a irritant, feverish hand. (Wrapped in two envelopes and hidden within the passage containing the portfolio for the upmost secrecy, of course).
Carol sighed, ran her fingers through her hair and smiled. To nowhere or nothing in particular, she was just happy.
Excitement broiled inside of her as she set down her espresso and clicked the digits into her personal phone.
Satisfied with the dial tone, she pushed the portfolio and note into the top drawer of her bureau, protected by lock and key and reclined into the immodest, beige executive chair, which faced towards the window, looking out over Rue Cambon.
'Danny, here. Who's calling?'
'Your partner in crime I believe.' Carol whispered huskily down the phone before subsiding into laughter.
'Oh, hi! You got the portfolio, what did you think? Everything ok?'
'Yes perfect. I can't wait to discuss your ideas in length and somewhere away from here, but we have more pressing issues to deal with right now.'
'What?' He faltered, afraid.
'This is too good. We can't waste time. Book the next two available flights to JFK.'
'Two? I thought this was a secret?'
'Oh, it is!' She affirmed into the phone. 'I'm coming with you.'