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Chapter 1
Lydia
I always thought I was a glass-half full kind of person. My friends often teased me that I’d even say an empty glass could become full again. Life just seemed so much better if you tried to look on the bright side. I had trouble feeling that way as I clicked the elevator button about thirty times like it was for a crane machine, and I knew I would be grabbing that teddy bear. I wish that what was awaiting me on the top floor was going to be just as thrilling. No, I had to be late with my entire business on the line.
The machine was going to shake, and I was going to lose my prize. The doors finally slid open, I basically jumped inside, and slammed my palm on the button for the top floor. I checked my grapefruit lipstick in the reflection of the metal ceiling, craning my neck to catch any smudges. My legs began to wobble as the elevator climbed. Thank God that no one else seemed to be getting off and on so I could panic in peace. I smoothed out my navy pencil skirt, checked the buttons again on my pale-yellow button up, and rolled up my oversized navy blazer to my elbows. I looked presentable and on trend, but would that save me? What on earth was I going to say to Mr. Hirano? I was late for the stupidest reason possible, and I had a feeling that the kind of company that had been around as long as Hirano Enterprises didn’t see the glass half full. They saw them as transactions to reject or accept.
The elevator ride was over too quickly. I slipped out as soon as the doors opened enough, and I headed to the boardroom the receptionist told me about. I pried the doors open and instead of a committee I saw one man sitting at the head of the table. I recognized him as the man I struggled to get on the phone to even set a time. “Mr. Hirano.”
“Ms. Maxwell.” He said sharply. He stood and took my handshake. I was always told you could tell a lot about someone by their handshake. His was firm and quick, like he wanted it over as soon as possible. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, his honey brown eyes scrutinizing my every movement as I tried to decide what chair to sit at. Did I sit across the way? Would that be awkward? The middle felt safe but too far away. Why was this meeting in such a big space? I pulled out a chair and sat down about three chairs away and set down my briefcase on the table.
“You can call me Lydia,” I offered, and smiled at him.
He cocked his eyebrows slightly and somehow looked bored. “Mr. Hirano is fine.”
“Oh. Okay,” I tried to play off my intimidation with a small laugh. “Well, thank you for meeting with me today. I appreciate your interest in my business—” he cleared his throat. “Excuse me?” I tried to ask brightly.
“You are late.” His cold brown eyes stared right at me.
“Oh. Yes. Of course. I am!” I tried to turn my grimace into something like a smile. “I deeply apologize for my lateness. I had an issue I had to resolve. I made sure to call your receptionist as soon as I knew it was going to be a problem. However, I know it isn’t very professional, so I am deeply sorry, but I hope you will excuse the mistake this time and I promise to keep appointments in the future.” I had practiced those lines over and over again in my head as I ran through the Chicago streets to his office. I thought it was reasonable and showed how professional I was despite my lapse.
“What issue?”
“What?” That I hadn’t planned.
“What was the issue you had to resolve?”
“It was one of a personal nature,” I hedged. I found myself grabbing at my hair but quickly shoved my hands back to thetable. It was a nervous habit, and it would only make me look more suspicious.
He leaned in over the meeting table. Even though I was a few seats away, I felt like he was hovering over me. “As a professional, you have to own up to your mistakes, in full.” It was the most he had said to me so far.
I sighed and looked down at my hands. It was wrong to lie, but the force of his gaze made me feel like I had to tell him. “There was a dog.”
“A dog.” I cringed at his tone. He sounded like he was about to scold me, like I was a child who’d done something wrong.
“I saw a dog at a cafe. The owner let me pet him and we got to talking. Honestly, I didn’t realize how much time was passing. I’m sorry. I really am.” It was a Shiba inu, I love them. It was the silliest reason to be late and I wish I hadn’t been so distracted, but I’d always had trouble focusing. I looked up at him hoping to find sympathy in his face.
He had a sharp face, all angles, lightly tanned and a business-appropriate amount of stubble. The only softness I found was the way his neat cut short black hair fell orderly, yet I could tell it was wavy. He let out a long breath and then sat back in his chair. “Now, since we’ve got all of that cleared up, tell me your proposal.”
I tried not to let my shock show on my face. His expression was still so severe but at least he hadn’t kicked me out. Not that I would have blamed him. I felt my confidence return, a warm feeling spreading through my chest. “Of course, Mr. Hirano.”
I found my smile easily and began pulling papers from my briefcase. I was a professional. I could do this. “Chicago’s fashion scene is getting bigger and bigger, and with the sixth annual Chicago fashion week being a huge success last year, I can see Chicago becoming as big as New York.”
He nodded, which I saw as a positive. I slid over a few glossy photos. “I think, since the Hirano name is in so many industries, fashion could be next. My company, Sew Fit, is a designer menswear brand that has appeared on the runway and in several top magazines.” I gestured to the pictures, and he flipped through them. “We just need an investor to grow our brand and get our name out even further.”
“What would you do with our money?”
Why’d he have to ask such blunt questions? Of course, I had a plan drawn up, but I wanted to get into it slowly, hopefully once Mr. Hirano had shown a bit more positive interest. “The money would be used mostly to hire and pay a larger group of designers. Right now, our company has only ten people, but we want to expand.”
“What do you do?”
“Me?” What did that have to do with the money? “I’m a designer too. But I spend most of my time managing the company. Planning shoots, coordinating with magazines. So, I don’t design as much as I used to.”
He didn’t have any follow up questions. I guess I overshared. I just needed to focus and get back to the pitch.
“Besides the returns our partnership will produce, we have some unexpected, unique benefits.”
“Such as?” Couldn’t he be a little more excited, or at least pretend?
