Caught Up in Us (Caught Up In Love #1)(41)
Author: Lauren Blakely

She kept speaking. “You need a mentor.” She waved a bejeweled hand airily. I bet she could cut the glass door off in seconds with the size of that ring.

“But that’s the problem, Mrs. Oliver. I don’t have a mentor anymore.”

She gestured to herself. “Am I chopped liver?”

I flinched from surprise. “What?” It came out like a stutter.

“I’d like to think I’ve been somewhat instrumental in your hands-on business learning this semester.”

I leaned forward, still not sure if she was truly serious, or if I could even pull this off. The class called for us to be paired with business leaders who ran actual companies. She seemed more of a benefactor, a generous angel investor. “You would do that, Mrs. Oliver? I mean, Claire.”

She took a sip of her espresso. “You call me Claire. But I have another name as well. I don’t go by it often, and I don’t really let many people know my other name. But the reason I am sure we can get these designs into Elizabeth’s stores is because I am Elizabeth Mortimer, and as the head of Elizabeth’s I would be delighted to finish out the semester as your mentor.”

Fairy godmother, I’d say.

*****

I raced back to NYU. The cab pulled up to the curb and I thrust several dollars in the driver’s hand, and pushed hard on the door. I ran up the marble steps to Professor Oliver’s office. He had office hours now, and was finishing up with another student.

I paced as I waited for the guy to leave. I reviewed my speech in my head, still marveling that Claire Oliver was Elizabeth Mortimer, head of the luxury department store chain that wanted to carry my designs. There was only one obstacle in the way — her husband.

The other student left, and I rushed to the door, then knocked.

“Hello again, Ms. Harper.”

He gestured to the same chair I’d sat in hours ago.

“If you’ve come to convince me to bend the rules, I should warn you, I’m not known for my mercy.” He spoke the last words with a smile on his face, but he was deadly serious. His kind manner could never be mistaken for leniency.

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that. Instead, I wanted to present a different solution. You said I needed a mentor to pass this class. Mentors are business leaders who are alumni. I don’t have one now, but I’ve been working closely this semester with a businesswoman named Elizabeth Mortimer. You might know her. She runs the Elizabeth’s stores. And via that relationship, I have gained two rounds of seed funding, an investment to fund design research, and a distribution deal in those department stores. Ms. Mortimer has guided me on design stylings, as well as offering insight into the best direction for my business.”

“Elizabeth Mortimer, you say?” He seemed amused.

“Yes. She is a very sharp businesswoman.”

“So I’ve heard. And it sounds like she has indeed been influential in your growth and development, Ms. Harper. But part of the requirement for the class is that the proteges help the business leaders solve real-world business challenges. How have you done that?” His normally chipper voice was laced with skepticism.

I thought of the conversation a few weeks ago when Claire, aka Elizabeth, had first presented the opportunity. “The Elizabeth’s stores need a jewelry line to focus their holiday marketing around. Elizabeth had been looking for a new style to draw attention. She loved the designs I brought back from Paris. I’ve also been able to line up a manufacturing partner to have them made in time. It’ll be a fast turnaround, but we can pull it off, and with her marketing and with my manufacturer’s savvy, I think we will have solved not only business problems, but provided an answer to the age-old question at holiday time — what do I buy for the woman I love?”

Professor Oliver pursed his lips and nodded a few times. “And Ms. Mortimer is open to this?”

I found it odd that we were discussing Ms. Mortimer as if she were not his wife. I supposed that was part and parcel of her veiled identity though. She wanted to be both Mrs. Claire Oliver and Ms. Elizabeth Mortimer.

“Yes. She would be willing to step in officially as my mentor for the rest of the term. So I will have Bryan Leighton for the first few months, and Ms. Mortimer to finish out the term. And, to be quite honest, that seems rather fitting for my business. Both have helped me tremendously to grow and expand My Favorite Mistakes. And I have, in turn, helped both of their businesses, as you know from the reports.”

He removed his glasses, picked up a white cloth from his desk, and cleaned the lenses. When the glasses were free of fingerprints, he put them back on. “Ms. Harper, has anyone ever told you that you’re not too shabby at negotiation?” He cracked a grin, and extended his hand. “Welcome back. I trust there will be no hanky-panky with Ms. Mortimer as you finish out the term?”

“None, sir.”

“Good. I do have a suggestion now for your business. Perhaps it’s time to move beyond the name My Favorite Mistakes since your business is moving beyond that idea.”

“What do you think would be a good name?”

“Seeing as I suspect you have a rather bright future in front of you as a jewelry designer, I would suggest a simple name. I would suggest your name. That is what all the fashion icons do. I think your customers will soon want to give and to wear Kat Harper necklaces.”

I smiled. “It has a nice ring to it.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Close your eyes.”

Bryan pressed his palms over my eyes as we reached the block with my parent’s store.

“Maybe you’d like to blindfold me?”

“I’ll do that later, don’t you worry.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried.”

“Just keep them closed.”

“Since your hands are covering them, it’s safe to say I can’t see a thing. So don’t let me trip.”

“I won’t.”

He guided me along the sidewalk. I smelled the sea air, and it reminded me of long, lazy summer days here in Mystic. It reminded me of summer nights years ago falling in love. Right now with December upon us, the air smelled of pine and freshly falling snow. A few flakes drifted down from the darkening afternoon sky, promising a night by a warm fire and blankets of white in the morning.

I graduated two days ago. There was little fanfare, as is the custom with a business school graduation. I simply finished my exams, checked my grades online, and verified that I had, in fact, attained my MBA. The first person I called was Claire, who I now thought of as a super hero with a secret identity. She congratulated me and informed me that my necklaces were faring well the first week in her stores. The My Favorite Mistakes line was still selling online and in boutiques, but the Elizabeth’s customers favored my simpler styles. Rather than a star, a key and a sunburst jammed on one necklace, they were opting for single pendants, and embracing the European look of the charms, thanks to where I’d found them — the markets of Paris. Of course, there were shoppers too with quirkier taste, and for those the cat and dog charms appealed. Still others with a vintage flare liked the cameos and brooches. “Be charmed with a Kat Harper necklace,” Claire pronounced. “That’s the tagline.”