Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews. I know a lot of you are interested in Hannah's mum; that's coming next chapter :)
Caroline and I just finished our first conference call with Patrick and Victor Demarchelier. Let me repeat that… Patrick and Victor Demarchelier. We talked about the idea and moods behind our new line and about the different ensembles we're going to be showing. They were both, of course, full of great ideas on how to maximize the tone and feeling of the show. They are both such visionaries; I mean, I've heard about them from colleagues but I never thought we would be working with them. I'm so checking this off my dream list.
I think the ulcers in my stomach are starting to heal over; Caroline delegated out a large portion of my "worry list" and it's nearly complete. Press, food, drivers, venue, everything— all done. I'm still worried that Nina and Candace are going to be sick for the show and we'll have to find some last minute replacement models, but if that's all that I have to lose sleep over I'm happy. Nina actually did look a little better today.
I even had time to run out to Two Little Red Hens and grab a box of cupcakes for Amber as a peace offering. I really hope Caroline didn't hurt her too badly with her comments. Her skin will get thicker as she gets older, but I don't want to be responsible for scarring a kid who is just starting out.
"Hi Amber," I smile as I approach her desk. I can see that she's already bracing for the worst and I feel so freaking guilty about that.
"Hi Ms. Gilbert," she mumbles and pushes her glasses back up her nose nervously.
"These are for you," I slide the cupcakes to her and smile even wider until I realize I probably look more like a shark than I do a welcoming face so I stop. "I'm really sorry about this morning. Caroline and I had no right to treat you the way we did. It was completely inappropriate and it won't happen again."
"Oh wow, thanks Ms. Gilbert," she breathes a sigh of relief, probably unburdened from the fear that I was coming up here to fire her.
"You're very welcome, thank you for being patient this morning. None of that craziness was directed at you, I hope you know that."
"I do now," she grins and pops open the box. These are the best cupcakes in the city and I really wish I would have gotten myself one. "Want one?"
"Would you mind?"
"Not at all, these are the best."
"Right?" I already know which one I want, I was practically drooling on myself when the lady behind the counter was tucking that sweet little red velvet one in the box. I lean against the desk and peel off the wrapper. Who said we don't enjoy sweets in the fashion world? "So how's it going otherwise?"
"It's alright," she shrugs and takes a bite. It's nice to have a semi-normal conversation with her. I feel like I only talk to her when I have a problem for her to fix, her job must kind of suck. "How are things going with Mr. Salvatore?"
"They're… complicated, Amber. Have you ever been super into someone and you're not quite sure if they feel the same way? It's like that. We went out and had a great time, like really awesome date but then it just got weird. And it's not like I can just ask because that would make things worse. And seriously, I mean, you've seen him. How does someone like me land a guy like that? He's pretty much the definition of out of my league."
"I just meant how things were going with the case against All Starr Designs," Amber says quietly and shifts in her seat.
"Of course you did," I nod awkwardly. Way to go, Elena, unload all of your personal drama on the teenager whose job it is to talk to other people. I'm sure your secrets won't be going anywhere after this. "Maybe we can just forget everything I said?"
"Sure," she giggles and blushes. "For what it's worth, I think you're exactly in his league."
"Hey, thanks. That means a lot." I excuse myself before I have to stick my foot in my mouth again. I really need to hide in my office and detox on caffeine before I blab inappropriately personal details to the rest of the office.
I happen to pass the conference room and see Damon on his cell phone pacing the entire length of the room. His tie is pulled a little loose and he's running his hands through his hair. He does that when he's anxious, I know this because I'm creepy and I definitely watch him a lot. He catches me watching him and I give him a small wave and he smiles tiredly at me.
"Everything okay?" I mouth from the other side of the glass wall. He shrugs and nods his head. I figure it's probably best to leave him be so I finish my rounds around the office. We're getting really close to the big show and it's helpful for me to know where everyone is at on their respective projects and to know if there's anything that needs a little more attention, et cetera. Plus, it gets me out of my office for a couple of hours.
After touching base with the lead design team Damon pulls me aside into the mailroom, looking even more frustrated than he did in his office. His tie is completely gone now and I can tell he's flustered. It's such a foreign look on his that it rattles me a bit.
"Hey, I'm sorry to ask, but do you mind if I stepped out for a couple of hours?"
"Yeah, of course, it's no problem at all. Is everything ok?"
"Yeah," he answers quickly and then it's like he realizes that it's me he's talking to and he doesn't have to be bulletproof is he doesn't want to. "No, that was Hannah's daycare. She's refusing to eat again. This happens all the fucking time. It's not her fault, I know that, but she hates daycare because there's a group of girls there who pick on her so on the days she has to go she hunger strikes. Then she gets home and she's pissed at me because I made her go so she won't eat for me either. Literally, she won't touch anything. It only ends when Stefan or my Mom comes over and makes something. Stef and Lexi are at a conference at Stanford and my parents are in London until Wednesday. I already know how this is going to end. She's going to make herself sick and when I explain what happened to the nurses at the hospital they're going to step right out and call Child Protective Service on the idiot dad that can't even feed his daughter."
"I'm sorry," I say and I know it falls flat.
"I'm really fucking this up," he admits and rubs his temples.
"Hey," I say strongly and grab his hands. "That is not true, Damon. Plain and simple, not true."
"She's five, Elena. She's my baby girl and I can't even get her to do something as simple as eat when she's hungry."
"Well, look at who her daddy is. Do you really think Mr. Social Justice Warrior would have a daughter who didn't know how to hunger strike to get her way? She's like a little suffragette."
"Because I'm such a great example to learn from," he scoffs sarcastically.
"You're teaching her how to believe in something, Damon. It may be daycare and mean girls today but someday she's going to know how to stand up for herself or for something bigger than herself. That's pretty powerful."
He just chuckles and shakes his head then gives me a look that I can't place. I've never seen it on him before, but it's making me a little squirmy.
"What?" I ask and I'm suddenly self conscious. Did I say something wrong? Maybe it wasn't my place to say anything at all. Did I just massively overstep some invisible boundary?
"I was ready to slit my wrists when I got off the phone and in about two minutes you made it ok. Do you want to come with me?"
"Are you sure? I mean, it sounds like she really wants her dad. She won't get upset that I'm there?"
"She really wants to punish her dad, Elena. Trust me, you being there might save me from an epic temper tantrum."
"I can't really say no, then can I?"
—
As we pull into the driveway of the Marigold Grove Waldorf School it looks more like a miniature university than it does a daycare. The front lawn is the biggest I've seen in the city outside of Central Park.
"This place is really sweet."
"For the tuition it better be," Damon grumbles but there's not really any bitterness in his voice. "Ready for fifteen minutes of disapproving glares and a really condescending conversation about how to reason with a tiny human?"
"Damon, please, I work with the biggest divas in a diva-studded industry. If I can handle Anna Wintour at her worst these school marms aren't going to be able to scare me."
"We'll re-approach that assessment when we're done."
"Mr. Salvatore," the receptionist greets him a clipped tone. "I'll let Mrs. Bouchard know that you're here." Real friendly.
"Great," Damon says with an eye roll and takes a seat in the waiting room. I sit next to him and give him a reassuring hand squeeze, which earns me a forced little smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Before I can open my mouth to tell him that it's all going to be okay a very stern woman appears in the waiting room.
"Mr. Salvatore, thank you for coming," she says curtly. For a place that advertising a warm, safe learning environment for all children on their sign outside the faculty are pretty cold and a little scary. "Please join me in my office."
I was fully prepared to wait for him in the waiting room like the dubiously-unattached-friendish-coworker-with-whom-he's-gone-on-one-date that I am but he grabs my hand and tugs me along with him. Okay, I guess I'm going parent-teacher conference, too.
"Have a seat Mr. Salvatore and Mrs…"
"Ms. Gilbert. Elena is a good friend," Damon answers for me before I have a chance to make things awkward, or more awkward. Is now a bad time to get a little crabby that he didn't call me his girlfriend? Too soon for that? Maybe.
"Right," she says disapprovingly. Bite me, lady. "Anyways, as you know, Hannah has refused to eat again. I'm very worried that by you allowing her to engage in this behavior in the home she is going to learn that it is a means to get what she wants. As I'm sure you know, this is unacceptable behavior for a child her age."
"What am I supposed to do? Go Kilaminham Gaol on her and stick a tube down her throat?" He's using his frustrated tone, this isn't going to be constructive at all.
"I think there may be a leadership issue at hand. Hannah is learning to be the leader of your home. Both Mrs. Cooper and I believe that you can discourage this by informing her that it's unacceptable and refusing to give in to her demands."
"Unacceptable, fine. That's all well and good but you understand why hunger striking has been so effective in the past, right? I can't force her to eat. It's not like a picket line I can peel her off of, if she won't eat there's not a whole lot I can do about it."
"With all due respect, Mr. Salvatore, I believe that you're putting a little too much stock into Hannah's thought process. She's simply mimicking behaviors that she's seen without understanding the full gravity of her choices."
"And where would she have learned this from?" Damon snaps. Our conversation about his multiple arrests in college and unlawful protests pops into my mind; I don't think it's a mystery as to where Hannah picked up the fine art of civil disobedience. I am pretty impressed that she's already using it at her age. She's going to be one hell of a teenager.
"Probably from the same place she learned this from," Mrs. What's-Her-Face produces an exquisite drawing of a unicorn or a bear, I can't really tell which. "Hannah drew this at arts and crafts hour yesterday."
"Fuck," Damon groans and slouches in the uncomfortable chair next to me. I take a better look at the picture and I laugh uncontrollably when I read the words Hannah was trying to spell: mash the paytreearky. The headmistress gives me a glare that could freeze July in Georgia.
"I'm sorry," I say and try to control myself. "But you have to admit that a girl who already wants to take on the patriarchy at five years old is a force to be reckoned with."
"I can assure you that this is no laughing matter, Ms. Gilbert. Hannah's behavior is disruptive to her development."
Damon looks completely defeated and it's killing me. He's a damn outstanding father and watching him get torn down is like taking sandpaper to every nerve in my body. I am about to overstep in a major way, but better to ask forgiveness than permission, right?
"Whoa, Hannah's 'behavior' stems from getting picked on by girls under your care, in your facility so how about we examine that before we start throwing around words like 'disruptive.'" I am trying to be respectful and not go full CEO on her, but she's making Damon hurt and that flips some weird switch in my brain: Protect. Seek. Destroy. I can't even hide the fact that my hand is shaking a little.
"We understand the value in fostering individuality, Ms. Gilbert. But children still need a leader."
"Seems like Damon is a pretty great leader, most kids have to pick up those lessons from a kefiyah-wearing roommate in college. Hannah already has a strong personality and, correct me if I'm wrong, but assertiveness and a strong belief system are the two characteristics most well-correlated with success in the professional sphere later in life."
"I certainly don't disagree, but there are healthier ways to placate her than to give in to her refusing to eat."
"Like what? Placating her with sugary garbage? Look Ms. Bouchard, I'm not a parent but I know a thing or two about head-strong women and they're going to fight you one way or another. If Hannah wasn't refusing to eat she'd be refusing to do something else."
Ms. Bouchard looks at Damon expectantly and he just shrugs. She took all of the fight out of him and it makes me want to punch her in the face. Before I can get myself in any more trouble the phone on the desk rings and the stern woman who has just become my nemesis answers it.
"Hey," I say quietly and squeeze his shoulder. "Why don't we take her somewhere for lunch and see if she eats? If not she can go back to work and color in Caroline's office. I know where she keeps the Luna bars and smoothie mix." He nods and peels my hand off his shoulder, at first it seems like he might be mad that I'm touching him but he kisses my knuckles and whispers a heartfelt 'thank you.' He doesn't let go of my hand either, he shifts so that our fingers are tangled together and hanging between our respective chairs.
"I'm going to sign Hannah out for the rest of the day," Damon informs Ms. Bouchard when she hangs up. Some of his confidence is back and he's starting to look more like himself. "Thank you for your advice but I'll be looking for a different day school for my daughter. I feel like your staff isn't up to the challenge of mentoring Hannah."
"Mr. Salvatore, I can assure you that our faculty is very well-trained. Hannah is a pleasure to have in class and she is a valuable part of our community," Ms. Bouchard begins to back-pedal. I'm sure she just sees a large tuition check vaporizing. He nods decisively, like he's already made up his mind and the headmistress calls for the receptionist to get Hannah from her class.
—
"Hi Daddy," Hannah shuffles out with her tiny backpack and a handful of worksheets, looking entirely pleased with herself. I almost laugh because she's already got her dad's smirk and mischief dancing in her big blue eyes. Her curly hair is tamed into two French braided pigtails and she's wearing a yellow jumper with green frogs on it. Damon mentioned that his parents and his brother and sister-in-law are out of town so he must have braided her hair and helped her pick out clothes this morning. It's so sweet and it makes me heart beat harder in my chest. Then I remember that the first thing he heard when he came in to work this morning was Caroline talking about me using him to get laid and it makes me feel like instant garbage. He's so, so, so good. I don't deserve someone this good in my life, not when there's a possibility that I may ever make him feel like I'm using him. "Hi Lena."
"Hi Hannah," I smile, I can't believe that she remembered me. I've only seen her once and for about a minute before she fell asleep and she greeted me like it was the most normal thing in the world. I wonder if she asked Damon anything about me and what his answer was.
She marches over to Damon and holds her backpack up, as soon as he takes it and throws it over his shoulder she holds both arms up expectantly. As soon as he picks her up she wraps her little arms around his neck and her eyes start to water.
"Hannie, Mrs. Bouchard told me that you didn't eat your snack or your lunch."
"I didn't want to eat the animals," she sniffles and wipes her nose on Damon's shoulder, which makes me cringe a little. It's a Gieves & Hawkes jacket, who cares if it just became a seven hundred and fifty dollar hankie?
"What animals?" he asks softly and rubs her back.
"Felice said that chicken nuggets are made out of birds and I like birds. Me and uncle Stefan fed the birds at the zoo, I can't eat them! She said I was a bird killer if I ate nuggets."
"Now she's a vegan," Damon shakes his head. From what little I know about him and his past I think the apple didn't fall far from the tree. "Sweetie, you don't have to eat the animals, but you do have to eat something, ok?"
"How come I can't go to the big window house wif you?" I assume she's talking about work. If Damon showed up with this little girl the office would be more in love with him than they already are. God, Rebekah! She'd be even flintier.
"I have to work during the day, Sweetheart."
"I miss you though, Daddy." I feel guilty because we have been pulling really long hours at work getting ready for court.
"How about we go get lunch and see how you feel after that, ok?"
"Kay, can we go to a place with crayons," Hannah asks and growls when Damon tries to help her buckle her carseat harness. "I can do it, Daddy."
"Okay," he sighs and watches her carefully. He gives the belt a tug before he's satisfied and it's so freaking adorable.
"Daddy, can you turn on TED?"
"Are you sure you don't want to listen to some music?"
"TED!" Hannah demands and kicks her carseat.
"Ok, ok," Damon sighed and switched on NPR. Maybe I'm starting to see a little bit about the whole 'establishing leadership' issue. He's physically incapable of saying no to his little girl; she's incredibly smart and she already knows that he's wrapped around her little finger. "Better than that damned One Direction again."
"That's a dollar Daddy! Lena you gotta make sure Daddy puts a dollar in my swear jar when we get home."
"What's a swear jar?" I smile. Maybe I should institute an inappropriate comment jar at work. I couldn't though since I don't think they make jars that big.
"Every time Daddy says a bad word he has to put a dollar in the swear jar and when the swear jar is all fulled up we get pies with ice cream. I always like chocolate pie but sometimes cherry is good, too. One time I got both 'cos Daddy said so many bad words at Indy but then Daddy had to finish them because I was going to explode from pie and all my ice cream melted."
"Who is Indy?" Please let it be a pet Persian cat or a small, fluffy hamster.
"My doggie," Hannah giggles and Damon rolls his eyes. So he has a dog, too. It shouldn't surprise me, but it does. I might die if he's a chihuahua. "He's a good doggie but sometimes he number ones on the floor and chews Daddy's grown up shoes. One time he ate Daddy's homework and he got real mad."
"It was the deposition I was supposed to deliver for a seventy million dollar lawsuit the next day," Damon says loud enough for me to hear him but not Hannah. "That fucking dog was born of Satan."
"Do you like pie, Lena?" Hannah asks sweetly.
"I do, my mom makes the best lemon meringue pie."
"My mommy is a cunt."
"Hannah Carson Salvatore!" Damon cuts in sternly. I have to look out the window and bite my lip because I'm cracking up inappropriately. This little girl is a force of nature. Damon really does have his work cut out for him.
"What?" Hannah asks half-annoyed and half way in the sweet little squeaky voice I'm sure she knows melts Damon.
"Where did you learn that word?"
"Uncle Stefan."
"Damnit Stefan," Damon growled and pulled his iPhone out.
"Another dollar! 'Member Lena now that's two dollars for the swear jar." I have to rest my chin in my hand to inconspicuously cover my mouth. This is beyond entertaining and I'm worried that laughing is only going to encourage her to keep pushing Damon's buttons.
"You can't use that word, Little One. It's not very nice," he explains calmly.
"Do I have to put a dollar in the jar too then?"
"Not this time, but if you say it again you will."
"But I am saving all my dollars to buy Indy an aggilator stuffie for Christmas."
"Well just make sure you don't say that word ever again and you can buy Indy his alligator."
"Ok. Can we get pies?" Hannah asked with a sweet smile that highlighted her dimples perfectly. It's official, she's a professional. She's probably the only person on the planet who can bend Damon to her will like that, I'm highly impressed.
"If you eat all of your lunch we can get pie."
"Thank you, Daddy," she smiles knowingly. Total professional.
xoxo