BooksBarbecue
Back Gilt
Chapters (82)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY JAMIE BRENNER
  3. PART ONE
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. PART TWO
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. PART THREE
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. Acknowledgments
  81. About the Author
  82. What’s next onyour reading list?

“You hate this air-conditioning, don’t you?” she said, reaching down with an affectionate pat.

Elodie closed the paper, inhaling with satisfaction. Tomorrow’s party was going to truly showcase her talents as CEO. She only wished her father had lived to see this day.

Growing up, Elodie loved nothing more than following her father around the Fifth Avenue store and feeling the buzz of the customers, the click of metal and glass as cases were opened and locked, the crinkle of stiff paper bags in Pavlin & Co’s trademark green—the color of emeralds.

“Emeralds don’t sparkle, they shine,” her father always said. The shopping bags themselves even had a gleam to them. Emerald green had always been the brand’s signature color.

The store was her second home and had been for as long as she could remember. Starting her freshman year of high school, Elodie spent every summer at the office. She didn’t have the glamour job of catering to celebrities trying on jewels for the Academy Awards or showing multimillion-dollar engagement rings to high rollers. Instead, she had a desk at a cubicle and took orders, learned how to weigh loose diamonds, picked rings up from the setter, and arranged for deliveries. She was happy to pay her dues, to learn the business from the ground up. Someday, she would be the one hosting luminaries at the fifth-floor salon. She would be the one greeting the press at the annual holiday launch party.

That day had, at last, arrived. Since her mother’s passing, Elodie had presided over two successful holiday season launches, and now was preparing for the company’s centennial year—an anniversary she needed to leverage as spectacularly as possible. It was increasingly difficult to keep jewelry in the minds—and budgets—of customers.

People simply didn’t buy jewelry like they used to. The entire business model was based on tradition—a tradition engineered in part due to the marketing genius of her grandfather. What would an anniversary be without a pair of solitaire diamond earrings or a string of pearls? An engagement without a big diamond ring?