Page 179 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
She shakes her head, and I’m about to ask why her day was rough when she says, “You dressed up. I should have changed into something nicer.”
I smooth my hands over my custom-tailored dress shirt that suddenly feels too tight. “I’m overdressed. You can have a turn at being underdressed for once. Wine with dinner?” Without waiting for an answer, I walk to the wine fridge. I definitely need something to settle my nerves.
While Piper takes a seat at the table, I pour us some wine and serve our plated food. Then I sit across from her, still burning to have her in my arms again.
We make small talk as we eat our dinner, and Piper comments more than once on how delicious the food is. But something’s got her down, and I reckon she might feel better talking through her day instead of just complimenting my cooking skills.
When we’re close to our last few bites, I take a chance she’ll share more than a meal with me. “You wanna talk about why your day was rough?”
“It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.” She shakes her head, but I hear the tears at the edge of her throat.
“It’s not fine, Piper. I can tell something’s eatin’ at you. You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready, but…I’ve done plenty of talking lately. Wouldn’t mind listenin’ to you for a bit.”
That pulls a genuine smile from her.
“The fact you’ve made me dinner and are willing to listen is enough,” she says, her voice cracking a bit. “There’s really nothing more you can do than that, Archie.”
I lift my shoulder. “You didn’t think I could cook either. I might surprise you again.”
Her smile drops, and she takes a sip of wine. “Valente is using the portfolio of designs I sent them for their Fall line.”
I stare at her. “They’re using your designs? That’s amazing! Everyone is going to know your name.” I’m not sure where the rough part of her day comes in, but I’m thrilled for her.
Piper scoffs. “No one is going to know my name because Valente’s name is the only one that will be on the label. Not mine. They didn’t ask my permission to use my designs. They took them.”
Her face twists with a mixture of anger and defeat that makes my whole body go rigid with a need to right a wrong. “They stole them?”
The tears pooling in her eyes answer my question before her nod does.
“They can’t do that.”
“They already have.”
My gaze drops to her wine glass as she explains how designers can alter a piece without it being copied by creating seven differences and how Valente did this to another designer she works with. She’s left a pink lip print on the wine glass—a mark that will easily wash off. But her own work shouldn’t be so easily erased and claimed as someone else’s.
“What are you going to do?” I ask when she finishes.
“I don’t know yet. But I have to do something.” While she talks, she rolls her napkin, folds it, then fans it into something like a doll-size dress. “Not just because of what they’ve done to me, but also to my friend Julia. They fired her for not meeting her quota.”
“Can they do that?” In my research for Bombora, I learned a few things about the garment industry. California has fairly strict labor laws when it comes to garment workers.
“I’m pretty sure she’s undocumented, which means they can do whatever they want.” Piper smooths her napkin and starts folding it in a new shape. “I thought Valente was different from other companies in the industry who use undocumented workers.”
I consider this, and while I’m angry on her behalf, I’m also thinking about Bombora, too, and how what Piper’s telling me can inform my own business practices.
“Is Luca Valente aware of what’s going on?” I ask before remembering what Frankie has told me about him “borrowing” from interns.
“He knows. The company culture goes all the way back to Italy, where he’s based.” Piper drinks the last of her wine and passes her glass to me to refill. “Honestly, I’m as angry at myself as I am at them. I should have known everything they told me was too good to be true.”
I slide her glass back to her, and she sits back, cradling it in her hand while she continues. “The designer who recruited me went on and on about how Valente cares about affordable, sustainable fashion—which is what I’m really interested in. That’s why I took the internship. I should have known the way they keep their ready-to-wear,eco-friendlyline affordable is by underpaying the employees who do all the piece work. I was naïve to believe Valente could claim to manufacture everythingin America at the price point their ready-to-wear line is at without exploiting workers.”
At this, my eyes dart up. I think back to her sketchbook and the labelsrecycled, repurposed,andvintage.Of course, she’s interested in sustainability. It was obvious in every design I saw, I was just too blind to see it.
Piper and I want the same thing. Not only this house, but to create something sustainable. My own chance may be slipping away, but maybe I can help her get hers.
“You can’t let Valente have those designs.” I sit up taller. “They’re too good. We have to find a way to stop him.”
Piper’s brow creases in a sharp V. “How do you know how good they are?”
