Fine things Read Online Free Page B

wait, which he did not. And he chose Columbia, and began there while still working at the store a few hours a week. He wanted to keep his hand in, and he found he was particularly interested in the designer aspects of men's wear. He did a study on it for his first paper, and not only got high grades, but made some suggestions which actually worked in the store, when Berman let him try them on a small scale. His business school career was a considerable success, and when he finished, he wound up working for Berman for six months, and then moving back to men's wear after that, and then women's wear. He began to make changes which could be felt throughout the store, and within five years to the day he began at Wolffs, he was their rising star. So it came as a blow when Paul Berman announced on a sunny spring afternoon that they were moving him to the Chicago store for two years.
    “But why?” It sounded like Siberia to him. He didn't want to go anywhere. He loved New York, and he was doing splendidly at the store.
    “For one thing, you know most of the Midwest. For another”—Berman sighed and lit a cigar—“we need you out there. The store isn't doing as well as we'd like. It needs a shot in the arm, and you're it.” He smiled at his young friend. They shared enormous respect, but Bernie wanted to fight him on this. But he didn't win. Berman wouldn't relent, and two months later Bernie flew to Chicago and a year later he was made manager, which kept him there for another two years, even though he hated it. Chicago seemed like a depressing town to him, and the weather really got to him.
    His parents came to visit him frequently, and it was obvious that his position carried with it considerable prestige. To be manager of Wolffs Chicago at thirty years of age was no small thing, but nonetheless he was dying to get back to New York, and his mother threw a huge party for him when he told her the good news. He was thirty-one years old when he came home, and Berman let him write his own ticket when he came back. Nonetheless when Bernie thought of upgrading the level of women's wear, Berman was not convinced. He wanted to introduce a dozen big couture lines, and put Wolffs back on the map as trendsetters for the whole United States.
    “Do you realize how much those dresses sell for?” Berman looked genuinely distressed, as Bernie smiled at him.
    “Yes. But they can pare them down a little for us. It won't actually be couture after all.”
    “Damn close. Or the prices will be anyway. Who's going to buy those goods here?” It sounded too extreme to him, but at the same time he was intrigued.
    “I think our customers will leap at what we'll offer them, Paul. Especially in cities like Chicago and Boston and Washington and even Los Angeles, where they don't have every store in New York spread out at their feet. We're going to bring Paris and Milan to them.”
    “Or ourselves to the poorhouse trying, is that it?” But Berman didn't disagree. He looked at Paul thoughtfully. It was an interesting idea. He wanted to leap right into the highest-priced merchandise, selling dresses for as much as five or six or seven thousand dollars, which were after all only ready-to-wear technically, but the designs would be couture.
    “We don't even have to buy the stock. We don't have to overload the inventory. We can have each designer put together a show, and the women can order directly through us, which makes even more sense economically.” Berman was thrilled with that idea. It took all the danger out of it for him.
    “Now you've got it, Bernard.”
    “I think we need to do some reconstruction first though. Our designer department isn't European enough.” They had gone on talking for hours as the idea was born, and when they had roughed out what they were going to do, Berman shook his hand. Bernard had grown up a lot in recent years. He was mature and self-confident, and his business decisions were sound. He even looked grown-up now,