Brooklyn Monroe Wants It All by Karen Booth
Chapter Nine
“This is getting completely bonkers,”Brooklyn said to her sister Virginia. They were in Brooklyn’s office, having just wrapped up a quick brainstorm session on future Posh Post boxes. They’d carved out an hour for the task, which was enough time for Brooklyn to receive a whole new batch of emails.
“More guys?” Virginia asked. “How many now?”
“I don’t even know. I stopped counting at six hundred.”
“And how many of these suitors are creepers wanting to have a tie to you because you’re famous?” She used much-deserved air quotes when delivering that last word.
“Too many. Let me just say, the term ‘internet influencer’ has been thrown around a few times. Some of these men sent resumes like they’re applying for a job.”
“Well, you are a piece of work.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
“At least they didn’t all send gifts.” With a nod, her sister gestured toward the growing pile of teddy bears, baby clothes, and other unsolicited tokens of affection, including several copies of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. “We don’t have the space.”
“I need to post a sign in the lunchroom and let people know they can take whatever they want.” Brooklyn shook her head as she glanced at the exceedingly wordy message she’d received from someone named Chad in Ohio. Her eyes glazed over the minute she hit an extended patch of poor grammar. Chad was probably a very nice man, but who was she kidding? She didn’t have time to vet him or correct his spelling. She barely had time to pee.
Plus, she needed to be honest with herself. The few times she’d replied to any of the men who’d wandered into her inbox, it had felt incredibly strange. Even when a somewhat normal back-and-forth materialized, it was all so detached and cold. There was no chance for a real spark, a not-so-innocent touch, or the holy grail of flirting—that moment when you lock eyes and feel like your entire body is on fire. She didn’t want to associate her baby with such an utter lack of real-life affection. But was she going to feel any better about a sperm donor? She had her doubts, but she supposed she didn’t have a choice. She’d made an appointment for a consultation at a fertility clinic, but the first time slot she could get was weeks away, in early November right after Halloween. Yet more waiting.
“Hey. I was hoping I could be here for your lunch with Lela Bennett, but I forgot that Dallas’s class is at the end of their unit on the ocean,” Virginia said. “They’re doing a little play in the classroom. He’s a fish.”
Brooklyn’s shoulders dropped. “Aww. You didn’t tell me about that. I want to go. I hate missing special events like this.”
“He’s a fish. He gurgles and flaps his construction paper fins. I promise you won’t miss much.”
“I’m still mad.”
“If you want, you can take him trick-or-treating on Halloween.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Tom is out of town for work and trying to push a baby in a stroller down Garden Place while dealing with a six-year-old is going to be impossible. Plus, somebody needs to hand out candy at my house.”
Brooklyn rubbed her hands together. Halloween was epic in Brooklyn Heights. Her mom and sister both lived there, and the girls had grown up there as well. Getting to take Dallas on her own sent a verifiable thrill through her body. “I’m going to have to figure out my costume.”
“You know you don’t have to dress up, right?”
“I’m Fun Aunt Brooklyn. I’m dressing up. For sure.”
“Whatever you say.” Virginia rose out of her chair, leaned over, and kissed Brooklyn on the top of her head. “Don’t say yes to any guys while I’m gone. I want first right of refusal.”
“Don’t worry. There’s zero risk of me saying yes to anybody right now.”
Virginia breezed out of Brooklyn’s office, quickly replaced by Brooklyn’s assistant, Laurel. “Lela Bennett is downstairs for you. Do you want me to fetch her?”
Brooklyn got up from her desk. “No. It’s okay. I’ll do it. I need to get up and move around anyway. Too much sitting.”
“It’s the new smoking,” Laurel said.
“So I’ve heard.” Brooklyn strode through the controlled chaos of the executive floor and pressed the button for the elevator.
From out of nowhere, a giant with big brown eyes and flowing wavy hair blocked Brooklyn’s view of, well, everything. “Ms. Monroe, I’ve really been wanting to meet you. I want to thank you for the opportunity to intern here.”
Brooklyn shook his hand, craning her neck in order to make eye contact with the human skyscraper with a model’s cheekbones. “It’s no problem. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“Giorgio. I found out about Posh Post because of the letter you sent in the Posh Male box. My older brother got one.”
Oh, Lord.Brooklyn managed a nervous titter. “Well, I don’t want you to think that’s all we’re about.”
He shook his head. “I don’t, but I do think it was very forward-thinking. My brother and I were both raised by a single mom. I admire what you want to do. We did just fine without a dad in the picture.”
Brooklyn and Virginia had, too, but that still didn’t mean the girls had never felt as though they’d lost out on something. “Good to know.” The elevator arrived. “I have to pop downstairs, but I’ll see you later. Thanks for joining the team.”
“You’re very welcome. I hope you find a guy. Somewhere.”
Brooklyn pasted a smile on her face. “Thanks.” Mercifully, the doors slid shut, and all she could do was shake her head for the millionth time. Even when people thought her quest for motherhood on her own terms was noble, it still felt odd that anyone thought it was okay to chime in on her life choices.
Downstairs in the lobby, Lela stood waiting. She looked incredibly chic with her extraordinary silver hair up in a ponytail. She wore a short and flirty skirt of black tulle, with opaque black hose and heels, paired with a white cardigan. It was the perfect way to deal with the erratic October weather. One day it was in the upper seventies, or like today, the high was barely going to reach sixty.
“I’m so excited you’re here.” Brooklyn eagerly took the hug Lela offered. This felt like the start of a friendship.
“Me, too. I can’t wait to see everything.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t go to an actual restaurant today,” Brooklyn said to Lela once they were in the elevator. “Things have gotten a little out of control. Going out in public right now is a disaster. I stopped at my corner deli for a bagel this morning and a guy with horrendous body odor insisted on paying for me and another gave me a used paper coffee cup with his name and number on it. People were taking photos with their phones. It was super awkward.”
“Wow,” Lela said.
“And don’t even get me started on the state of my inbox. It has exploded.”
“All of this because of Alec’s interview?”
“I thought it would make things die down, but it only made everything blow up.”
“I hope something good came out of it, too.”
The elevator doors slid open and they walked through the office. “Our subscription numbers have seen a massive spike. And the Posh Male initiative is definitely a go. We got a ton of sign-ups. So that’s good.”
“Gotta love that.”
“Definitely.” Although it meant that they were going to need to hire more crew in the warehouse, and as to where they were going to put all of these people, Brooklyn didn’t know. “Marketing, the art department, and senior admin are up on on this floor,” she said, giving Lela the lay of the land. “The web department is on four, database management and customer service are on three, accounting and other admin is on two. And fulfillment is on the ground level, but we’re going to have to move it out of Manhattan soon. It’s growing too fast and it’s too expensive to expand in the city.”
“Impressive. How many employees?”
Brooklyn noticed that Laurel had a line of people at her desk waiting to talk to her. She juggled so much, and Brooklyn would be lost without her. Brooklyn was thinking about asking her assistant if she needed one of her own. “Two hundred and nineteen.”
“Exactly?”
“Yep. Although Frida in accounting is moving to San Diego next month. Her husband, Yuri, got a job in sports marketing with The Padres. So we’ll be down a person, but hopefully we’ll get her replaced.”
“You know a lot about the people who work for you.”
“I just want people to feel valued. That’s all.”
“I don’t know if I could manage so many people. That’s why I love being a division of Echo Echo.” Lela’s cosmetic company, Lela B, was a joint venture with the lifestyle company owned and operated by Lela’s daughter-in-law, Echo. “Someone else handles all of that.”
“I can’t imagine not having my hands in everything. I’m too much of a control freak.” They arrived at Brooklyn’s corner of the Posh Post world. “Come on in. Have a seat.”
“Super cute office.” Lela sat in one of the chairs opposite Brooklyn’s desk.
Brooklyn plopped down in her own chair. “Thanks. I’m really happy with it, even if it’s busting at the seams.” On the floor in the corner, opposite the teddy bear graveyard, sat a stack of bins for Brooklyn to go through. Even though she had a team that tested every sample that went into a Posh Post subscription box, Brooklyn still signed off on everything—smelling and touching the products, making sure the packaging design was aesthetically pleasing.
Laurel appeared at the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know that your mom just stormed past reception. She’s on her way up.”
Brooklyn choked back a grumble. “Any idea what she wants?” Brooklyn looked across the office, hoping to catch Virginia before she left, but her glass-walled office was dark and empty.
“No clue. Sorry. Do you want me to try to stop her? I’m not entirely comfortable with that idea, but you’re the boss.”
“No. It’s fine. Maybe she’ll get distracted by Giorgio.”
“Who?” Laurel asked.
“Giorgio. The ridiculously handsome new intern.”
“I’m always amazed how you know everyone’s names. It’s his first day.” Laurel glanced back over her shoulder and sure enough, Brooklyn’s mom had not made it past the tower of Giorgio. Her mother liked to say that no woman needed a man, but in truth she was quite the fan, especially when they came with a handsome face. “Huh. You were right.”
“I know my mom,” Brooklyn said.
“Okay. Well, your lunch will be here in fifteen minutes. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Sounds good. Thank you.” Brooklyn redirected her attention to Lela. “Sorry about that. It’s always a little kooky around here.”
“I don’t know how you do it. Now that I’m married, have a grandchild, and am doing my work on Good Day USA, I wouldn’t be able to function if I hadn’t given up the operations side of Lela B. I just do the top-level work of making product and packaging decisions. It gives me more time for the things that really matter.”
Brooklyn couldn’t help but think about her own lot in life, and the ways in which she hoped it would eventually mirror Lela’s. Brooklyn talked about simply hiring a nanny when she had her baby, as if that was going to be enough to make motherhood and her career exist in complete harmony. And her plan was assuming a lot—a trouble-free pregnancy and a little one without any issues. What if there were problems? Postpartum depression, or a baby with special needs, or a health condition requiring extraordinary care. There were so many unpredictable factors at play. And even if everything went smoothly, for someone who had a hard time giving up control, it was not going to be easy to simply hand over her child to someone else.
Brooklyn’s mom appeared in the doorway looking perfectly put together—rolling dark waves framing her face, with flawless eyebrows and a neutral lip. She wore slim black pants, matching turtleneck, nude heels, and her prized 1980s-vintage Birkin bag hooked on her arm. “Knock, knock. I hope I’m not interrupting.” Of course, she was totally interrupting. But it was too late for that.
Brooklyn rose from her seat and rushed over to kiss her mom on the cheek. “Mom, I want you to meet Lela Bennett, the founder of Lela B Cosmetics. Lela, this is my mom, Aurora Monroe, founder of Aurora Cosmetics.” It was kind of amazing—Brooklyn had two titans of her industry in her office. Her mom was a legend, and although Lela might not be quite as well-known, she was certainly an icon.
“Ms. Monroe, it is so amazing to meet you,” Lela stood and eagerly shook Brooklyn’s mom’s hand. “Don’t tell anyone, but I still use the Aurora Beauty overnight cream. It’s so rich and silky.”
Her mother smiled and shot Brooklyn a look that essentially said, See? I’ve still got it. “That’s so wonderful to hear. I haven’t had a chance to try your products, but I’m a great admirer of the marketing you’ve done around your brand. It’s very impressive.”
“Thanks. I can’t take much credit for that. It’s all my husband, Donovan, and his daughter, Echo. I’d love to send you a box of Lela B skincare if you’re up for trying it. Not that you need it. You look amazing.”
“That’s so sweet. I’d love to sample what you have. Always need to keep my eyes open to everything the competition is doing.”
Brooklyn sucked a breath through her nose. “Mom, what brings you by the office?” Completely unannounced. With zero advance warning.
“I actually have something I need to talk to you about. In person. But we can discuss it later if you’re in the middle of something.”
“Well, Lela and I were about to have lunch.”
“I can step out if you two need to talk,” Lela offered, her sights darting back and forth between Brooklyn and her mom.
“No, no.” Her mom shook her head. “My daughter and I can catch up later.”
Laurel appeared in the doorway. “Lunch is here. I’ll get you all set up in the small conference room.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ve encroached on your plans,” her mom said.
Brooklyn wondered how she always managed to get into these situations with her mother, where she felt guilty for something she hadn’t done. “Mom, why don’t you join us? Laurel always orders plenty of food.”
A pleased grin crossed her mother’s lips. “I’d love to.”
Brooklyn sighed. She’d really been looking forward to time with Lela, but the reality was that Brooklyn was overdue for a visit to see her mom, so maybe this was for the best. “Perfect. We can head over in a minute.” Brooklyn got out a big binder to show Lela the mock-ups of the next twelve months of subscription boxes. Her mom, seeming disinterested, took a seat and tapped away on her phone.
“You plan this far in advance?” Lela asked as she perused the pages.
“The themes, yes. But we use a shorter lead-time with the actual products. You never know when a hot new brand will turn up in the marketplace. We like to have the most current stuff if we can.” Brooklyn didn’t really want to cut a deal with Lela with her mom present, but she didn’t have a choice. “Do you think you’d ever want to put a product in one of our boxes? We could even do an exclusive if you have any new products you’re trying to launch.”
Lela’s face lit up. “Oh, absolutely. No question. I’d love to do it.”
A wide smile bloomed on Brooklyn’s face, but her mom cleared her throat and shifted in her seat, managing to convey her disapproval of things without a word.
“But we can talk about that later,” Brooklyn added. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
The three gathered in the small conference room for a lovely lunch of chicken caesar salad, raspberry iced tea, and fresh baked oatmeal cookies for dessert. The topic of conversation was an easy one, the common denominator—beauty and business.
“Ms. Monroe, what was it like when you started your company?” Lela asked.
Her mother dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin, but it felt like a pause for dramatic effect. “Incredibly difficult. Imagine climbing a mountain in a snowstorm. Carrying two kids. In heels.”
Brooklyn had often cringed at the stories of her mom’s struggles. They always felt so overwrought. But now that Brooklyn had experience with the business side and was seriously pursuing motherhood, she was starting to see it through a different lens. “Uphill both ways. Right, Mom?”
Her mom wagged her finger playfully at Brooklyn. “You joke, but I’m serious.”
“Oh, I know.”
“The industry has always been surprisingly misogynistic. You’d think a business with so many women customers would be more female-friendly, but no,” her mom said. “Back in the late 70s and early 80s, I was getting laughed out of the room. Women were considered consumers of cosmetics, and sometimes makeup artists, but trying to be a female entrepreneur and run my own company? Forget about it.”
“That bad, huh?” Lela asked. “I was in high school and college during that time, so I thankfully avoided most of that.”
“Let’s put it this way. I got my ass grabbed more times than I care to think about.”
Brooklyn nearly dropped her salad fork. “You never told me that.”
“That’s horrible,” Lela said. “I’m so sorry.”
Brooklyn reached for her mother’s arm. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me that before? That’s terrible. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
Her mom shrugged. “I never told you because I didn’t want to discourage you. And I’d hoped things had changed enough that you wouldn’t encounter the same thing.”
“I haven’t, thank goodness.” Brooklyn’s mind started running through the many stories her mom liked to share about “the bad old days”. Brooklyn had always thought her mom laid it on thick because she wanted the girls to understand what a shitty thing their dad had done by taking off when Virginia was a baby and Brooklyn a toddler. But her mom had always seemed fearless, so the girls never saw the struggle. They only heard about it. Now Brooklyn was starting to think that her mother had likely hidden a lot.
“I’m not sure what I would do if something like that happened to me in a business setting,” Lela said. “I’d probably freeze with shock.”
“I did the first time. Frankly, I was humiliated. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. The second time, the guy wasn’t so lucky. After that, I learned to keep my ass to the wall and be on high alert at all times.” The room went quiet as they all seemed to mark everything her mom and countless other women had experienced. “Did you two meet when Brooklyn was on Good DayUSA?” her mother asked, mercifully breaking the silence.
“Yes,” Lela answered. “I got to meet your daughter before the men of the world went crazy for her. Her inbox has exploded and men on the street are asking her out.”
“You’ve always said you wanted to do more dating,” her mom quipped with her trademark just-be-thankful-for-what-you-have tone.
“This isn’t dating. I’m a circus sideshow.”
“If you truly wanted a date, you would’ve used that interview as an excuse to reconnect with Alec.”
Brooklyn was taken aback. “Mom, I thought you didn’t like Alec.”
“First off, I didn’t like the idea of Alec. Remember, you never introduced me to him. And I only said that you were fighting an uphill battle by getting involved with a man who has an all-consuming career when you have the same.”
“I will say one thing. You and Alec are adorable together,” Lela interjected, then took a bite of cookie. “I bet you were cute when you were a couple.”
They’d been more than cute—they’d been like a house on fire. When they had time for each other. “Alec’s a no-go. He doesn’t want to be a dad. He told me as much. We work better as friends.” Honestly, that was all Brooklyn was hoping for from Alec right now. If they could stay friends, it would feel like a victory.
“Friendship is fine, but will it get you a baby? That’s the question.” Her mom drew in a deep breath through her nose, while casting Brooklyn a questioning look. “I should get back to the office. Lela, it was very nice to meet you. Brooklyn, can you call me tonight? I still would like to discuss my situation with you.”
Situation?“I’ll walk you to the elevator,” Brooklyn said. “Lela, do you mind waiting?”
“No problem. Do whatever you need to do,” Lela said.
Brooklyn stepped out into the hall with her mom. “What’s going on? You’re starting to worry me. Are you sick? Are you dying? Please tell me you’re not dying.”
“I’m not dying.” Her mom shook her head as slow as could be, upping the drama of Brooklyn’s question with an equally dramatic answer. “I’m thinking about selling Aurora.”
“I don’t understand how both of those things can be true. I always assumed you’d have to be terminal before you’d considering selling.”
“I thought so, too. But things haven’t played out like I once thought they would.”
“Didn’t you have one of your most profitable years ever last year?”
They made their way to the elevator and Brooklyn pressed the down button.
“We did. But our customer base is shrinking. And newer, hotter brands are stepping into the marketplace.” She gestured with a backward flip of her head toward the conference room where they’d just had lunch. “Like Lela’s company. I’m not sure I have the energy to compete the way I need to.”
Perhaps her mom just needed a pep talk. “Of course you do. You’re the woman who never gives up. You’re a fighter. And there are always going to be bumps in the road. Our subscription numbers dipped eight percent after we shipped that defective bronzer a few years ago.”
“There was a class action suit, Brooklyn. It turned your customers’ faces the color of nacho cheese.”
“Like I said, bumps in the road.”
The elevator dinged and they climbed on board.
“It’s not a bump.” Her mom had taken a shockingly somber tone. “This is about you. And your sister. And Posh Post.”
Brooklyn had to tamp down her natural inclination to get defensive whenever her mother brought up this topic. “What about us?”
“You’re seven years in now. It’s clear that Posh Post has some serious staying power. Which means I can’t hand my company over to you and your sister, which was always my plan.”
Brooklyn had once felt as though her mom was waiting for Posh Post to fail, but perhaps she got it turned around. Maybe her mom was waiting to make sure it succeeded. “You’re absolutely right. Virginia and I can’t take on any more responsibility right now. And there’s no way we’re walking away from Posh Post.”
“I’d like to retire at some point. I need to find a way to move forward.”
They arrived on the ground floor, and Brooklyn held the elevator door to let her mom exit first. “I understand. That makes sense.” It still didn’t sit quite right with Brooklyn. She had to wonder if there was another way out of this.
Her mom dug her sunglasses out of her handbag. “One more thing before I go. Will you promise me you won’t shop for a father for my grandchild via the silly letter your sister wrote?”
“So you think a sperm donor is the best option?”
“It will certainly be a simpler means of getting what you want.”
True. But it wasn’t everything Brooklyn wanted. There was still this stubborn part of her that wanted love. A partner. “I suppose.”
Her mom softly patted Brooklyn’s shoulder. “Just keep it together, darling. Don’t let everything that has happened because of the letter derail you from your actual plan. You want a baby. Have a baby.”
“You’re right.”
“No rash decisions, okay?” her mom asked.
“Got it. As long as I can ask the same of you. Please let me try to talk you out of selling Aurora. Or at least into finding the right buyer.”