The Billionaire Band Director

Chapter 6

    Shopping with Betsy was an experience.  Martha had dressed in charcoal slacks and a simple light blue blouse.  It was the kind of outfit she had worn while substitute teaching, and she thought Betsy would like it because she had worn a pantsuit with a teal scarf the day before.  Betsy did not like it.

    “Oh but my darling, I am so glad we are doing this!  You absolutely MUST look your best tomorrow!” said Betsy.  Apparently the grey pants and blue shirt were not her best.

    More than her own clothing, Martha was worried about how Betsy would react to Josie.  Even though Betsy had insisted on Martha bringing Josie along, Martha had her doubts.  Josie was not related to Betsy at all.  Furthermore, while Martha was only half Latina and looked like her dad’s side of the family, there was no mistaking Josie for one of Betsy and Donald’s country club friend’s daughters.  Martha was not worried about Betsy not loving Josie’s personality.  Everyone loved Josie- how could they not?  However, for all of Martha’s life, she only knew her father’s parents as the people who wanted nothing to do with their half-Mexican granddaughter. Why would they be accepting of a full-blooded Mexican teenager who was not even family?

    If Betsy disapproved of Josie, she hid it well.  Very well.  A lot better than she hid her disapproval of Martha’s outfit.

    “How precious!  How absolutely precious!  Aren’t you just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?” she cooed at Josie.

    Josie liked being cooed over.  Martha would give up her life and sacrifice her future for Josie, but she was not the fawning type.  Martha had thought Josie would roll her eyes and make comments about how she was not a baby or a kitten, but she just leaned in to the coddling. 

    Betsy had them ride with her and her driver.  The town car took them back in to the little town.  Martha caught herself subconsciously looking for a head of dark curls, but her human coffee napkin was not out on the streets where she could see him.  The town car pulled up to a storefront of gleaming marble.  The driver parked in the middle of the road and came around to open their doors.  Betsy led them up to the door.

    Instead of opening the front door to the store, Betsy pressed a little button to the side of the entrance.  A voice came over an intercom near the door and said “Delighted to see you again, Ms. James.  Welcome back.”

    The doors to the store opened on their own and Betsy led them inside. Martha was surprised by how little clothing was on display.  The room was mostly white, with a few mannequins displaying haute couture dresses and several large jewel-toned couches.  A saleswoman in a black dress with slicked back hair approached Betsy.

    “Ms. James, welcome back.  How may I assist you today?”

    “Yes, hello, Daisy.  We are in great need of your help today, in great need” said Betsy.  “We absolutely must find something perfect for my granddaughter to wear.”

    Daisy looked surprised, then slowly turned to look at Josie.

    “And is this for something special?” asked Daisy.

    “Yes, Daisy, something very special, but that is not my granddaughter.”

    If Betsy was offended that Daisy thought Josie was her granddaughter instead of Martha it did not show.  Betsy proudly gestured towards Martha.

    “This beautiful young woman is my granddaughter, Martha” said Betsy, pronouncing Martha with an English “th” again.  “She has an interview tomorrow, and while I have no doubt that she would win anyone over with her brilliance and charm, we simply must have something perfect for her to wear.”

    Daisy asked Betsy a few questions, completely ignoring the person who would actually be wearing the clothes, then set off through a door in the back of the store.  Betsy had told her that “darling Josie” must have something too.  Josie was bouncing up and down in anticipation. 

    Betsy seated herself on plush purple couch near a set of mirrors.  Before long Daisy returned.

    “I’ve set several outfits in each of your dressing rooms.  Please, come with me, and you can model them out here once they are on.”

    Martha followed Daisy into a dressing room.  Dresses, jackets, and accessories were hanging neatly all around her.  Martha grabbed the first one she saw, a fitted emerald greed sheath dress with an asymmetrical collar, and tried it on, trying not to look at the price tag.  She looked in the mirror.  She thought she looked good, but she was not trying to impress herself.  She slowly made her way back towards Betsy to be judge.

    “Oh darling, you look stunning! Absolutely stunning!”

    As Betsy said this, she stood up and approached Martha.  She slowly walked around her, examining her from all angles.  Daisy joined them.

    “I have a jacket, Ms. James, that she could wear with the dress.  It would give her a little more of a professional look, if that’s what you want.”

    “Yes, yes, Daisy, let’s see the jacket.” answered Betsy.

    Daisy returned with a black blazer that fit perfectly over the dress.

    Betsy lavished more compliments, on Martha for being able to wear a dress and on Daisy for finding a dress that was so “absolutely perfect.”  When Josie came out, however, Martha was completely forgotten.  Daisy had found Josie a pink dress with a full skirt and silver accents that made her look like she was in a music video.  Josie could not stop staring at herself in the mirror and spinning, making the skirt fly up around her legs.

    “Oh Martha, isn’t it beautiful?  Don’t I look just like Clarissa?” said Josie.

    Clarissa was Josie’s favorite pop start, and Martha thought Josie looked far more beautiful and far more real than Clarissa, but she just smiled and nodded.  She did not want to ask in front of Betsy or Daisy how much the dress cost, but she could tell from how much Josie loved it than she needed to find out soon whether they could afford it. 

    Before Martha could sneak a look at the price tag Betsy clapped her hands authoritatively.  “Well, my darlings, I think I’ve seen enough for today.  Why don’t you both go back to your dressing rooms and change into your normal clothes.”

    There was no question asked or any consideration given to whether Martha had liked the dress, or whether Martha or Josie had wanted to try on any of the other clothes in their dressing rooms.  At Betsy’s order, they both marched straight back into their changing areas and put on their regular clothes.  When they came out, Daisy had a huge grin from ear to ear.

    “Let’s go, darlings” said Betsy. “It is time for lunch.”

    Betsy and Martha had not discussed lunch, but it was clear from Betsy’s tone that it was not up for discussion. 

    “Yes, Grandmother, I just need to pay for…”

    “Nonsense, darling” snapped Betsy.  “Everything has been handled already.”

    Martha started to stammer about intending to pay for her own clothing, but Betsy would not hear it.

    “Martha James, I am your grandmother.  Grandmothers spoil their granddaughters.  It’s just what we do.”

    And that was that.

    Betsy’s driver took them to a posh café down the street.  As they approached the restaurant, Martha’s heart stopped.  The man she had spilled coffee on the day before was walking out, carrying a large paper bag.  He turned his head towards her and caught her eye and smiled.

    “Well hello, ma chere,” he said happily.  “No coffee today, ey?”

    Martha blushed. “I guess I’ll just have to find some other way to get your attention,” she said.

    What made me say THAT? she asked herself.  Flirting? In front of Josie and Betsy? She looked at Josie and saw her smiling.  Martha had seen Josie flirting a lot more than Josie had seen Martha do it.  Clearly, Josie liked this role reversal.  Betsy, however, had not noticed at all. She continued to lead them towards the restaurant.

    Martha’s coffee buddy, who was sporting a grin as wide as Josie’s, stepped to the side so they could pass.  As she walked by he gently touched her arm.

    “If you want my attention, ma chere, you got it.”

    Martha was trying to think of how to respond when she heard Betsy clear her throat in a deliberate way that seemed to say “I am waiting.”  Helpless, Martha stared at him, mouth slightly agape, and followed after her grandmother into the restaurant.  The handsome stranger stood still and watcher her until the door closed behind her.