23
Damon
The way Amandalooked at me just now, the way she spoke to me, casts a fleeting sense of foreboding over my mood. But I dismiss it as her last-minute bravado in the face of comeuppance.
I’ve won, and rather than admit to her motives and machinations, she simply walked out on the whole situation. No matter. It’s my building, my company, my world now. And it’s going to be the grandest art and artisan jewelry gallery in Los Angeles, in the United States, and possibly the world.
I’ve got no more time for anyone who’s standing in my way, or who’s dead weight. The remaining Sutters and the rest of the Board are welcome to accompany me on the rest of the walk-through, or not. Nothing will change the final outcome, and they’ll all be escorted out of the building by five o’clock anyway.
One of the first things I’m going to do, other than filling the walls with my own new art, is to completely revamp the jewelry collection. The designs are tired, and too reflective of the old guard. Half of the board members are wearing Sutter brooches, cufflinks or tie clips, and most of those people are Grayson’s contemporaries. There’s nothing wrong with that, but the ornate conservatism put forth in these current designs has to die.
But before I continue the walk-through, it occurs to me that I should have a closer look around this office, especially now that Amanda has left. She wasn’t carrying any boxes or bags with her when she walked out, but who knows what she might have secreted away before today. Whatever it is, it doesn’t really matter, since I’ll be pretty much turning every aspect of this company on its ear. Still, it won’t hurt me to get an overview of what’s here.
Over the next forty minutes or so, I skim through the filing cabinets, and make note of some of the design awards on the shelves. None of them are within the last five years. The bar is decently stocked, so at least she still had good taste in liquor. The mini fridge held a variety of foods and three-quarters of a bottle of pinot noir, which I’ll have housekeeping dispose of.
Next, I take a seat at Amanda’s desk.I guess this will be my desk now, I think to myself, and my stomach tightens. I jumped into this headlong without stopping to think about how little I know about running a retail corporation. I’m stepping out of the studio here, at least halfway. I’ve got a great concept, but if it fails, I’ll be just as ridiculed as Grayson would be if I allowed his financial indiscretions to come to light.
I reassure myself with the old adage that those who don’t know what they’re doing surround themselves with people who do. I’ve already got Nan, and good legal counsel. I can be fairly sure that the Board Members who decide to stay want to see the company move in an exciting new direction. Between all of these people, I’ll get the guidance I need to fill the open Board positions and find fresh jewelry designers.
I do almost laugh out loud, though when I see an actual Rolodex on Amanda’s desk. I didn’t think anyone used these things anymore, and I certainly don’t have one. I’m sure Amanda thought her father had some valuable contacts, probably people who are now just his golf buddies.
Curiosity has me digging into the desk drawers to find out what other relics are in there. The deeper file drawer just has Board Reports and financial projections dating back two years. the evidence that she and Margot had based their recent actions on, no doubt. The drawer above that contains various personal office supplies, mints and gum, a few cosmetics. It’s not until I open the drawer in the center of the desk that opens just above my lap that I find the real surprise.
I pull out a folder containing sketches of jewelry designs. At first glance I scoff at them.This is part of what’s brought this company to ruin. Then I realize they’re not like anything I’ve seen in the Sutter catalogs before. Not only that, but there is something hauntingly familiar about these sketches. As I study the lines, the hidden motifs, the connecting theme slams into me: these designs are based on my artwork—on the public paintings that skyrocketed my career five years ago after Amanda broke up with me.
My mouth goes dry and my heart starts to pound as I force myself to check the corners of each sketch for a signature. What I see on every one is a gut punch: the initials “AS”. Amanda Sutter. My Amanda drew these sketches.
But she’s not my Amanda any longer, so I can’t ask her why she drew them or why she never presented them to the design team. I suppose we’re both to blame for that. I’m not even sure I’d want such jewels floating around, now that I’m working on completely new paintings. Then my heart sinks again when I remember that I destroyed some of the most beautiful work I’ve ever done in a fit of rage.Jesus, how did I get here?I think to myself. And really what the actual hell am I going to do now?
Just as I’m trying to wrap my head around all of this, my phone buzzes. I want to ignore it, but I don’t. It’s Jill, and she’s probably calling because Nan is losing her mind wanting to know about these magical secret plans I have.
“Jill.” I try to keep the tone of my voice businesslike, so I don’t give away my terrible state of mind at the moment.
“Hi, Damon, I’m sorry to bother you. But a call came in for you, from a Celeste Wagner.”
I roll the name around in my mind. I know I’ve heard it before, but I just can’t remember where.
“Who is she?”
“Well, she says she’s Amanda Sutter’s best friend.” The yes and the no of it slice through my brain at once. I do remember her briefly from New York. She’s a nice girl, but what the hell does she want with me? If this is a call to rake me over the coals for hurting Amanda, I’m not in the mood, and I’m surprised that Jill would try to put a call like that through to me.
“Jill, I can’t talk—”
“Damon, please just listen for a second. I know what you’re thinking, and I almost hung up on her myself. But once I allowed her to explain herself… I just think you should hear her out.”
I sigh heavily and Jill takes that as my agreement, because in the next instant, I hear Celeste’s voice.
“Hello? Damon?”
“Hi, Celeste, what can I do for you? Actually, if you’re calling to berate me for whatever you think I did to Amanda, this conversation is going to be short-lived.”
“Not berate, just inform. You’re missing a big piece of it here, namely that Amanda was talking to me on the phone that morning when you thought you overheard her talking about you.”
Even though Celeste can’t see me, I shake my head in denial, because if she’s being truthful at all, then it makes everything I’ve done since then a compilation of the worst mistakes of my life. But I have to hear her out now.
“Go on,” I say with a thick voice. I feel like I have a tennis ball lodged in my throat.
“She wanted to tell me about you, how happy she was, how excited she was to be with you again, and that you had begun to clear the air and start fresh. But she didn’t get very far, because I needed to talk to her too. Only my story wasn’t nearly as happy. I’ll spare you the awful details, let’s just say that I found my live-in boyfriend of two years in our bed with another woman. It gets worse from there, and the more I shared with Amanda, the angrier she got. I was actually thinking about giving him a second chance at the time, and that’s when she blew up and said—”
