Avery Marks

AVERY MARKS

1

The sky had turned overcast and the rain came down in sheets, and it seemed like Paris was about to be hit by a storm. As she tapped her umbrella against the door jamb tiny droplets of rain trickled down onto the plush expensive pink carpet, fitted the previous week by Clarisse Ouvrages from the Champs-Elysees, Rue St Ferdinand. The finest, and most expensive carpet fitters in Paris.

She removed her Burberry trench coat she had recently purchased from the heritage collection, and hung it on the old wooden coat rack that was standing adjacent to the entrance in the hallway, a small memento of her great grandfather. Keeping hold of the wet umbrella she made her way across the large lounge, a cocoon of pure luxury, and sighed as she finally pushed open the doubled doors to her bedroom.

Avery Marks tossed her bag and her wet umbrella onto the floor at the side of the old grandfather clock, another memento from the old man, which was situated at the side of the old open wood burning fireplace. They would dry quickly there. She took off her wet Manolo Blahnik boots and placed them next to her bag, pulled down the zipper and slipped out of her 501s.

She took off her cream coloured silk blouse and dropped it onto the bed. Avery was so exhausted from the long and tiring day she had just endured. She went to the bathroom and took a well-earned long hot shower and dried herself off, and made way to her closet and put something loose fitting on before deciding to rest. After studying the array of bathrobes hanging in her wardrobe made of different kinds of material, some made of silk, and some of toweling, she reached up and took a blue silk one, and slipped it on and crashed onto her bed. The bed resembled a tiny cream silk mountain, made up of soft embroidered flowered cushions and pillows, and an expensive Egyptian cotton quilt.

Avery sank deeper into the bed and made herself comfortable, so happy and relieved that she was now finally free from her humdrum routine of the day.

She shuffled around on the bed trying to get comfortable, tossing and turning from side to side, and noticed something unusual, an envelope had been placed on the edge of the small bedside table. It surprised her, because her room, her personal chambers, were private and no one was allowed inside, even the maid had been told not to touch or rearrange anything. Everything had to be exactly as Avery had left it when she went out. A Girl should be in two minds

Classy and Fabulous

(COCO CHANEL)

Avery Marks a billionaires who has everything in life except one thing???

I will leave it to the reader to judge what this may be.

Read on.

She noticed the small envelope had calligraphic fonts on the outer side, written with an ink pen in dark blue, in perfect handwriting with beautiful squirls flowing in all directions.

Instantly she knew who it was from, because that type of writing could only be from one person, the one person allowed into the room apart from her, and agitation began to creep in.

Apprehensively she snatched at it and ripped it open with her long finger nails, taking care not to damage the shiny crusted

lacquer painted on them, and briefly viewed the two calligraphic

carefully worded postcards which had been placed inside. She read them, and sighed, and laughed out loud sarcastically, as the ending read Love, Mom.

Avery was so tired and weary after the long grind of the day, her days seemed to get longer, and her body felt weak and had lost all its strength, and she lay back down on the duck down and closed her eyes. She tried and tried and turned over and over trying to get comfortable and sleep, but it was impossible, she had too many things on her mind, too many business proposals spinning around in her head.

She sat up and reached over and grabbed the remote control that operated the small Bose blue ray player, that was situated on a small table on the other side of the room, she needed some soothing light background music to help her sleep.

Avery, like her father, had loved classical music since she was in high school. She wasn’t into the heavy music that most of the kids her age liked to listen to, the pop and R&B, and she scoured the list of classics on the screen. She chose Beethoven’s Fur Elise, and clicked on the remote button and laid back and listened appreciatively.

Her mother’s hypocrisy was beyond her comprehension, actually not only hers, there were many people who disliked her, especially many acquaintances in the business world she had met over the years.

With her meddling and interfering ways, she was always a hot topic of conversation.

Avery Clarisse Marks was a young, beautiful, intelligent and successful entrepreneur, she had resided in France for the

best part of her life and she loved it. Of all the countries she had chosen to live in, in Europe, she chose France, and she didn’t want to live anywhere else. Especially Paris when she was at home, which unfortunately she didn’t get to spend too much time in.

At such a young age she had a list of accomplishments that women her age could only dream of, added to her Curriculum Vitae. At twenty-six years old Avery Marks owned France’s most renowned fashion outlet and perfume chain. The two companies were handed down to her by her mother and father after they resigned from their company positions as CFO and CEO respectively. The well-known brand Dentelle La Mode, a high-end fashion house, and Clarisse Philippe, a high-end expensive perfumery retailer, with outlets for both scattered around the globe.

Her perfume shops were retailing the high-end brands available in the market, brands most shops could never afford to put on their high priced glass shelves. She had a niche market which only a few retailers in the business had.

Among the long list of accessories in her perfume outlets were the ten most expensive perfumes in the world, when they were available for her to purchase from the suppliers, because they were in high demand constantly for the ultra-rich, and at times very difficult to come by. Like gold dust, one may say, especially for the Middle Eastern Sheiks whom she supplied frequently, for their many wives and mistresses residing in their Harems. High-end perfumes such as Eau d Hadrien by Annick Goutal and Francis Camail, at the princely sum of Euros 395.000 per ounce. The fashion house and perfumery business was built up by her father and mother, among many other accomplishments the pair of them had achieved during their lifetime. But while Avery had money, and fame and beauty, her life seemed desolate and incomplete, and there was something missing.

Born and brought up in Paris and Switzerland with the best education any child could wish for, Avery Clarisse Marks had everything. She was the only daughter of the famous Swiss Industrialist Simon Avery Marks, the former owner of Dentelle La Mode. And her mother Clarisse ruled the roost at Clarisse Philippe, until she handed the reins of the company to Avery. Her family life had been perfect from the day she entered this world, they were very rich, respected, and famous, but the core element of love had always been lacking.

Her parents divorced when Avery was only fifteen years old, which didn’t make life any easier for her during her teenage years.

Ever since her parents had separated many years before, she had seen less and less of them, particularly her mother, but that didn’t bother her too much because she had got used to her absence over the years, and if she saw her only once or twice a year it would suit her.

During the earlier period of her life her mother was extremely busy maintaining Clarisse Philippe and Dentelle La Mode with her father, and working eighteen hour days doing so, and they didn’t spend much time with her. Not that they didn’t want to, they just couldn’t.

Finally, after the long period of employment at the helm of the company, Clarisse was retired and busy enjoying her life to the fullest with her young fiancé Jean Paul Perot, flying and cruising the globe in their private jet.

A gleaming new 737 eight hundred that they had recently had fitted out in pure luxury, and holidaying on the best cruise ships in the world.

Avery had grown accustomed to living her life alone, she had no alternative she had to, she had been independent from a young age, and everything she did was on her own terms. She had grown into a very strong woman, hard as nails one may say, and the absence of her parents no longer bothered her as she grew older and wiser.

She now had to focus more on her business, and increase sales and profits. This was the most important thing dear to her heart, at the helm of Dentelle La Mode and Clarisse Philippe as the CEO of both companies respectively.

Like a bolt of lightning she jolted awake and sat up in bed, as the thought of another lucrative business proposal came to mind. She rubbed her weary eyes and looked around the room in search of her laptop, and caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror to her left on the wardrobe door.

Ugh! Is that me? I look a mess!

She stared at the reflection in the mirror of her blue watery eyes, glistening in the dim light of her bedside lamp, and could see that her blonde hair that was tied up around her head in three neat braids was now tangled into a mess.

She rose to her feet and pulled her silk robe down to her knees and headed to her vanity, and looked in the mirror and brushed her hair in long strokes, gently, taking care not to break the strands, and tied it into a high bun and pinned it, and finally cleaned her face with a wet tissue and removed her makeup.

Misplacing her laptop as she frequently did Avery scoured the room searching for it, but nowhere could it be found. She assumed the maid had moved it, and if so there would be repercussions, because the maid had strict instructions not to touch or move anything in the room, she only had to clean and nothing more, that was her job. But she found it, and crossed herself for being so foolish into thinking the maid had moved it when she saw a light flashing from her bag across the room. In the realms of sleeplessness, she had tossed it to the other side of the room, with her bag, her book, and files that she always carried with her wherever she went.

She walked over and picked it up, grinning, as she pulled the silver plated Apple laptop from her Hermes Birkin bag. She settled back down on her mountain of pillows and cushions and pulled the bed covers over her long silky legs, where there was not a hair to be seen, and settled in comfortably on the comfy duck down.

She hit the on button and the laptop awoke to life, and the pale skin on her face turned blue from the light reflecting from her computer’s bright screen. Scanning through her email, she searched for one of particular importance, to no avail, it hadn’t arrived in her inbox. She had to double check because it was important and repeated the exercise, skimming once more through the list of emails she had received, until she found what she was looking for.

Her blue eyes scanned the pages skipping through them one by one, trying to not miss any of the minute detail in any of them that may be of interest.

She noticed an attachment at the end of the last page, and it was a large one, more than thirty megabytes, and she ran her fingers across the touchpad and gently clicked on it, and waited for the file to download.

Avery could feel the extreme need for sleep getting to her once more, looking at the screen was very tiring, and she shook her head aggressively every few minutes to keep herself awake, in an attempt to rid herself of the impending feeling. She turned and looked at the postcards on the bedside table once more and thought about her mother, and felt betrayed by how her mom had never seemed to have any feelings of love or empathy towards her. There were many times she wouldn’t even give her the time of day.

For the whole of her entire life, her mom had been so selfish and never seemed to care about her feelings at all, and she couldn’t fathom out why? And because of this fact, she had always taken care of herself and been very independent, and she knew she had to, because the simple truth was, she didn’t need her.

Thinking back over the many years to her youth, she could remember with deep regret the many times her mother had missed her ballet recital. Remembering the time when she went on a long vacation to the Caribbean, supposedly with her father, but who knew? But it could have been someone else. On the inauguration of one of her perfume store openings, when her mother should have been there with her to give her support.

2

The attachment in the window popped open and she opened her eyes and remained aloof, putting her mother to the back of her mind. She scanned the text on the screen as it grabbed her attention, it was important and she continued to absorb the contents, and all of a sudden it started to hibernate, and then it died, what to do?

Switching her thoughts and thinking about the future of Dentelle La Mode and Clarisse Philippe and where she was going to take them, she went into concentration mood and tossed the laptop to one side. She picked up the envelope she had received from her mother and took another look inside at the postcards she had received. She inspected the contents once more and smiled, and threw them in the trash can and went to sleep.

The following morning Avery awoke as usual at six thirty prompt, and the music from the Bose player came on automatically and woke her up, drifting across the room from the tiny pair of speakers. The player was set by a timer, and the music was always classical. This morning it was Wolfgang Mozart’s Piano Sonata No 16 in C major, and she loved it, it cleared her mind and helped her to face the day in front of her.

She went to the bathroom to take a shower, and after showering dried herself off and dressed casually. She wore Gas jeans, a pair she had recently purchased at the Harrods store in London on one of her frequent trips to the city, and slipped on a pair of Jimmy Choo high-heeled brown leather boots.

She loved Jimmy Choo shoes, she preferred them to most of the other high end brands. She had a soft spot for Manolo Blahnik, but there was always something special for her about Jimmy Choo, she preferred his collection much more. She had checked out his history and how he had made it so big, because companies like his in the fashion world interested her, and gave her inspiration. Jimmy had started the company in London back in 1996 with his niece. She liked the idea that the business was founded by him, and the fact that from day one he had worked so hard with the company to achieve the status that it now had. He kept on top of everything that was connected to the company, in the minutest detail, and he was always hands on.

Avery had even considered she would buy the brand one day, or buy a major shareholding in the company if possible, it was a no-brainer they were top in their field.

She didn’t bother with the bra, she liked the freedom at times of being without it, she applied some make up, not too much, and put on a light green coloured woolen mohair Jumper. She took out from the top drawer in her wardrobe one of her flowery Anne Touraine green colour designer scarves, and wrapped it loosely around her shoulders.

She looked at the jackets and coats that were hung in her wardrobe, and picked out a Balmain leather Biker jacket she had also purchased at the Harrods store on Brompton Rd, London, for the princely sum of two thousand three hundred and sixty-five pounds, and slipped it on.

While she was getting dressed she picked up her phone and called Claude her longtime chauffeur, and told him she had to go out to a meeting. The meeting would be at the coffee shop with a friend, and could he be at the front door in fifteen minutes’ sharp. Claude knew where she was going he took her there daily when she was at home, which he had noticed seemed to be very seldom these days.

After arranging everything she thought she possibly needed for the day ahead, she picked up her stack of files and walked over to the side of the bed to pick up her book, and grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

As she opened the door to leave, Claude was standing there, as usual, fitted out in his perfectly tailored grey suit, with a grey coloured hat to match, and holding the door to the new convertible baby blue Bentley open wide. Avery had purchased the vehicle a month prior. She had seen it as they passed a showroom one morning on their way to the office and asked Claude to pull over to take a look at it, and they went into the showroom and she ordered it on the spot.

The black canvas hood on it was up. Claude had not put it down as it was still overcast and drizzling with light rain after the heavy storm.

Like most cities in Europe, Paris could be very dreary in the morning.

Avery stepped inside and Claude closed the door and let her sink into the cream leather seat she so loved. She had recently had the headrests on the top of each of the seats embroidered with the D L M crest. Dentelle La Mode in blue stitching, and underneath these three letters was printed Clarisse Philippe in the same colour.

Every small piece of fine meticulous detail she loved.

Claude drove the three kilometers into the city and pulled up at the curbside outside the coffee shop, he climbed out of the Bentley and walked around the rear of the car (he never walked in front) he always had to be polite and be the perfect gentleman, and opened the door for Avery to exit.

Avery climbed out and thanked him and asked him to be back in the same place in exactly one hour to pick her up.

She shoved through the crowd of people in front of her, that looked like an army of ants passing each other by as they headed to their place of employment, as she made her way towards her favourite café, the Oronero Caffé E Gelato.

As she pushed open the heavy wooded and brassed swinging doors the doorbell sounded, and the tune of the French national anthem rang out loudly, and she smiled as she recalled it was the same tune as the old Beatles number, all you need is Love.

As she went through the swinging doors gracefully her eyes swept the large room filled with smoke, the smoking room it said in indented letters on the door. The Parisians liked their cigarettes, and she immediately saw through the glass window on the other side of the room the person she was looking for, her beautiful friend Shawna. She was sitting in the corner in an alcove alone in the nonsmoking room, avoiding the fans, or trying to avoid them, that followed her everywhere she went.

Shawna and Avery were very close; they had been the best of friends since childhood. They had been sent to the same school together at three years old. They went to Maternelle, and then onto Elementary school together, École élémentaire, before moving to Switzerland to her new boarding school Le Rosey, (Privatschulen/écoles privées) to be taught for the

princely sum of one hundred and eleven thousand Euros per annum, that her father had to pay for the privilege. But this was a small sum coming out of Simons Marks pocket, and wouldn’t make a small dint in his wallet.

Shawna was a beautiful veteran model in the fashion industry, and top of the tree in her profession. She was never out of work and got paid extremely well for what she did, and was always in demand to do work for all the well-known high-end brands, the likes of Chanel, Versace, Prada, Cavalino, and many more who employed her to walk the catwalks of Europe. Mainly in Paris, Switzerland, and Italy. Occasionally she did work in the USA when she had the time and could fit it in, and they paid well, and she also helped out Avery by contracting models for her when she needed them to show her collections.

They greeted each other with hugs and kisses and settled into their respective seats, and Shawna ordered espresso for them both, no sugar, and hot croissants laced with honey.

Avery discussed with her the future plans she had to expand her fashion business, but not her perfume business, that would come at a later date, and informed her that she would soon be opening her own shops in the USA. Firstly, in New York, and at a later date she would branch out into other cities close by.

She told her she had been thinking about it for a long time but had not taken the plunge, the reason being that her mother and father had held her back.

But she couldn’t put her finger on the reason why they always avoided the question when she asked them.

She explained to Shawna that she didn’t have any of her own shops presently in New York City selling her high priced clothing, but she did have several franchisees who were selling her goods on the company’s behalf. And these franchisees were only in New York, and not in any other American city, and they were commission based. She told her she had been dreaming about expanding into the USA with both her companies for a long time, but had never mentioned it to her before because she wasn’t ready.

Shawna was very surprised, and shocked at the news, but happy at the same time. She knew Avery’s parents were against her opening up her own shops in America, and they had mentioned it in front of her on a few occasions when they all had dinner together. But when Shawna had asked them why, they always avoided the question and changed the subject. Now it seemed for some reason or other that Avery had changed her mind, maybe after reasoning with her parents? Who knew? and her face lit up with excitement.

Are you kidding me Avery Marks? That’s great news! Oh my God. At last, you are seeing sense, I’m so happy for you, Shawna repeated, giggling like a child! Her voice rose with excitement. It’s not the fashion capital of the world America is it? and I believe it never will be.

But it’s a big market that’s for sure, bigger than one can imagine. It’s such a great opportunity for you Avery, and I encourage you to go for it."

Thank you, Shawna, for your support replied Avery, you are a jewel in my eyes, you really are, and you are always so

thoughtful.

Shawna held her hand up to her open mouth and touched it gently, the ruby red lipstick touching her fingertips. I remember something?

Yes, Shawna tell me?

I have a friend in America and I believe he can assist you with the future task you have in hand, he knows everyone in the fashion business who you will need to know, and he gets things done quickly, and he is extremely efficient. His name is Dylan Jeffrey. He’s definitely the one who can help you with your new venture into the capital, and maybe much more than you can imagine? But one thing you must remember Avery.

Yes, Shawna what’s that?

Be wary of him he is a real ladies man, and knowing him as I know him he will never leave you alone. He has tried it on with me on more than one occasion, but he didn’t get anywhere because as you know I am like you I can handle any man. But when it comes to getting to know people in the business world in the USA, and getting things accomplished quickly, he is certainly your man.

Really?

Yes?

He sounds to be a really interesting guy this Dylan. She laughed out loud.

He’s not, but I can assure you he’s very good at what he does, and he is extremely efficient with his business dealings with the connections he has in every nook and cranny he has in

the city. But I advise you Avery Marks, from the bottom of my heart, to leave it at that.

Noted Shawna, I will, and thank you very much for the advice, it is very much appreciated.

Shawna reached into her bag and took her cell phone out, and turned it on and went to her contact list. She wrote Dylan’s phone number on a small pad and ripped off the page and passed it across to her.

Avery thanked her once again and took the piece of paper from her, and took her phone out of her bag and typed the number into her cell phone and saved it.

3

Claude arrived at the café to pick up Avery, he was five minutes early and waited at the curb. He could see a crowd of people had gathered around the front of the Caffé E Gelato and they blocked his view as he scoured the entrance looking for Avery to exit, and he scratched his head and wondered why.

Many of them were smoking and drinking coffee from paper cups, and he could see the steam rising from their mouths as they spoke, and the majority of them were staring at him sitting in the car, but he guessed they were looking at the Bentley and not at him.

He kept the engine running and the temperature inside the car reasonably warm for Madame’s arrival, because she liked it warm. He could see a policeman in the distance, a Gendarme as they are known in France, walking towards him at a slow pace, and looking very happy with himself. He was approximately a hundred metres away and with every step he took he was getting closer, in fact too close for comfort and he would have to move. Claude could see he was holding a thick pad in his right hand, a receipt book he assumed, and a pen in the other.

Claude watched him intently, not taking his eyes from him. He was like an artist with a paint brush, with a flick of the wrist placing pieces of paper he had written something down on, most probably a parking fine, on the windscreen of every other car he happened to pass, and he had a smile on his face that resembled a Cheshire cat. Claude was thinking to himself that the Gendarme must love his job so much, because he looked so happy and content with himself. He watched him like a hawk, he had to, and decided he would pull away from the curb and drive around the block if he got within twenty metres of him.

Avery smiled at Shawna and glanced down at her watch, and told her she was expecting Claude to arrive within a few minutes.

She had been there for over an hour already and she had to leave because there were many things to do. She stood and walked back into the smoking room, and looked through the large steamed up window into the street to see if Claude had arrived, but she couldn’t see through it clearly, it was steamed up due to the smoke and condensation. She could make out there was a crowd gathering outside, and picked up a tissue from one of the tables and walked back over to the window. She rubbed on the glass between the letters O and R that were indented into it and could see Claude parked at the curbside. Then she looked down the street and caught sight of the Gendarme.

Avery had to move quickly, she knew what those Gendarmes who were spread out all over the streets of Paris were capable of. They would take your number down and book you from a distance if they were in the mood, and post the parking ticket out to you. She walked back into the nonsmoking room and smiled at Shawna, and bent down slightly and kissed her once more on each cheek. I’m so sorry dear but I have to run. I will call you later, and turned and swiftly headed towards the door. The French national anthem rang out once more as she left the premises, but no one stood to attention.

Claude was still sitting in the car, he didn’t want to move from the driving seat and open the door for her, if he did