Claudette Reed

“Ms. Greene! Ms. Greene!” The paparazzi hollered my name as I walked into my office building, my Jimmy Choo heels clicking on the ground with each step.

Being the daughter of two successful designers has its perks, but you better believe that I worked my ass off to become who I am today: Stephanie Greene, CEO of Claudette Reed, one of the hottest brands that New York has ever seen.

My dad, Matthew Greene, CEO of Greene Designs, spoiled me as I grew up. I was his little princess back then. I still am, but now I rather that he calls me “queen” instead. He said the only queen in his life is my mom, Emma.

My mom told me that I needed to earn everything, that I wouldn’t get anywhere if I was handed everything on a silver spoon. Dad and mom bicker about it a lot, but I’m very much my mother’s daughter and decided to go to college and work for the position of CEO in the family company.

Claudette Reed started as a little boutique when I was young, I was even there for the ribbon-cutting, and it’s soared to unimaginable heights in the past two decades. I took over officially less than a year ago and brought in more high-end designs.

Mom loved ready-to-wear, and it was her specialty, but my father’s forte was red carpet, and the glamour of it always made my eyes sparkle.

I would spend all my free time going through my dad’s portfolio, asking him about this and that, he would tell me stories about celebrities and gossip about some clients. He’s my favorite person in the world, but he has his flaws.

I only learned about his reputation of being a womanizer once I took over my mom’s position as CEO of Claudette Reed after she fell sick. I was less than thrilled to learn the things my father had done, or moreover, who he had done. The list seemed neverending and I had to put my hands over my ears when my assistant wouldn’t shut up about it.

The elevator dinged indicating I was on my floor and I stepped off of it into my favorite place in the world - my studio.

Yes, it’s not just an office floor with cubicles and phones to answer, I turned the floor into an actual studio with machines, mannequins, patterns, fabrics, notions, you name it, we have it.

I didn’t want to be the CEO who is all talk and no play, I’m the type of person who likes to get their hands dirty with their work and be a part of the process from start to finish.

“Good morning, Ms. Greene.”

“Good morning, Louisa. What is my schedule today?”

Louisa looked down at her tablet as we walked together to my office.

“Let’s see, for starters, you have a progress meeting with the investors in an hour, then you have lunch with the CEO of Knightingale Suits, and-”

I groaned and rolled my head at the mention of Knightingale. Dominic Knight, the “Master of Suits,” as the magazines call him. He’s got an ego the size of New Jersey and the money to give him the right.

“Steph,” she said in a gentle tone as she hugged the tablet, “You need this partnership with him. Claudette Reed needs this partnership.”

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?”

She sighed and pursed her lips as she closed the door to the office. She then turned to me, “The business took a big hit when your mother fell ill and you were yet to take over. To put it simply… we need his money. And we’ve never done menswear before, so this could be a real boost for us.”

I plopped down into my cushy chair and sighed, “Alright fine. What do I have after that?”

“Nothing. You wanted to keep your schedule clear in case you had to spend all day convincing him that a partnership would benefit him as well.”

“Right,” I set my lips into a thin line.

I made this appointment a month ago after the business’s accountant gave me a call to inform me that we wouldn’t have enough money to put on our annual showcase.

“Thank you, you can go now.”

She nodded her head and left my office.

My office is almost entirely glass. I hate feeling trapped somewhere, I get claustrophobic and feel like I’m being suffocated. This way, I can see what everyone in the office is doing and how progress is being made throughout the day.

They say I’m controlling, but I don’t care. Dominic Knight may have the dumbass title of “Master of Suits,” but I have the title of “Baddest Bitch in Fashion.”

I’m pretty sure it was a backhanded compliment, but I also thought it was a strong title for a strong woman and I decided to roll with it.

Like my mother, I take no shit from anyone, but when it comes to my creative vision, I’m a control freak like my father, and everyone knows it. Claudette Reed is not the company to work for if you aren’t professional. Everyone here walks with their heads high and their outfits on fleek.

Our dress code here is simple: Dress in what makes you feel confident.

Thanks to the glass windows, I noticed Louisa hurrying back to my office and stepping halfway through the door.

“Ms. Greene, your aunt is here.”

My eyebrows flew up and I looked past Louisa's shoulder to see the tall and slender figure of my aunt Isabella approaching. The woman aged with grace and her hair was still jet black without a single hint of gray.

“Stephanie,” she smiled and put her arms out for a hug.

I stood up from my chair and approached her with a smile, “Aunty Iz, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

I motioned to the chair across from my desk and she took a seat before answering me.

“I heard from Isaac that he hasn’t seen you in some weeks.”

I grinned weakly and looked down with guilt. Isaac has been one of my best friends my entire life, and I practically bailed on him once I took the role of CEO and pushed him to the side.

Wow. I really am a bitch.

“I’m sorry, aunty Iz, I’ve just been really busy here.”

“I can see that,” she looked over her shoulder and toward the rest of the office. She then turned back to me, “You’ve done great work here since you took over.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, your mother was genius as well.”

“IS genius,” I corrected her with a smile, “But like you say, I’m the perfect 50/50 of my parents.”

She smiled at me and nodded her head slowly, “This is true. Your mother’s wits and your father’s talent.”

“Makes for a successful business,” I joked and aunty Iz smiled at me.

I didn’t tell anyone about the financial crisis that the business was dealing with because I didn’t want to stress anyone. I also wanted to avoid having my father throw a lump sum of money into my account overnight to help.

His business needs money just as much as mine does, and I wouldn’t be able to keep my title of “baddest bitch” if I wasn’t able to dig the company out of this little hole.

“You sure are making a name for yourself, kiddo.” I smiled at her and she continued with a troubled look, “Just… don’t forget about my son.”

“I could never.”