THE CHANGE - CHAPTER SIX

PART TWO - HOW MARTHA MET CHARLIE / THREE VERY FUCKED-UP THINGS

PART TWO

HOW MARTHA MET CHARLIE

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 18TH

PORTLAND, OR - LOS ANGELES, CA

SIX

So then three very fucked-up things happened, pretty much from the moment we arrived at the mall and parted ways: me toward Boardstrom, Gunnar toward the festive kiddie corral at the mall’s center, seasonally known as “Santa HQ”.

I didn’t need to clock in, but I still wanted to look nice for the trip. So I hit the employee dressing room, threw on my stockings and skirt, replaced my beat-up sneakers with fancier ones, then spent half-an-hour with the blank canvas of my face, applying to myself the full top-of-the-line glamour usually reserved for my clientele.

It wasn’t that I was trying to seduce Liam Pathe. (Well, not exactly, anyway, much as the thought had a certain appeal.) I probably wouldn’t even see him till Saturday, if ever. But on the offside chance we ran into each other, for any reason, I just wanted to be ready.

What I wanted, more than anything, was for him to find me impressive. Or, more to the point, formidable. In the cosmetics department, and the world at large, we call it “war paint” for a reason.

And as if to make the point with the daintiness of a sledgehammer, who should waltz in but Elizabeth Lange, queen of the Luxury Men’s Department. Rumor had it that she personally cleared one million dollars in sales this year, luring in the wannabe-dashing svengalis encamped at the Hilton Embassy Suites down the street as they shopped for their escorts, mistresses, or even occasionally wives.

Her angle was simple: “You want to look good for her, don’t you? You want to…” purring “...inflame her desires.” Pretty soon, those bozos were the ones who were inflamed, falling all over themselves to impress her with the size of their shoes and wallets.

When a pair of Bruno Magli loafers runs for $400, a Boglioli Sport Coat goes for $1,455, and a simple stupid t-shirt can cost you upwards of $90 bucks, those commissions stack up fast. And God only knows how many of those Hilton Embassy Suites she’d undressed for success in herself, single-mindedly closing the sale with a black widow’s elegance and grace.