She attended because one of the featured factories supplied another fashion company she was considering acquiring.
He had no idea who she was.
That became funny later.
At the reception, he complained about luxury brands.
“Most of them talk about craftsmanship while squeezing suppliers.”
The chairwoman sipped water.
“Most?”
“Enough.”
“Any specific ones?”
He named three.
One was hers.
She smiled.
“What’s wrong with that one?”
He launched into a ten-minute critique.
Supplier audits.
Marketing language.
Executive compensation.
Some claims accurate.
Some outdated.
One plainly wrong.
She corrected him.
He frowned.
“You work in fashion?”
“Yes.”
“Which company?”
She told him.
He stared.
Then laughed.
“You're serious.”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to have me removed?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether your shoes offend me.”
He looked down at his cheap loafers.
They both laughed.
He later learned the viral boutique story.
He hated it.
Not the chairwoman.
The public framing.
He said:
“Everyone cheers when they realize you're rich.”
“Yes.”
“What if you weren't?”
“Exactly.”
That answer began something.
They dated.
Argued.
Married.
He continued criticizing luxury fashion at their dinner table.
She continued criticizing documentaries that simplified corporate problems into one evil executive.
Their daughter grew up listening.
No wonder she became difficult.
Motherhood changed the chairwoman’s relationship to the old boutique video.
When her daughter was seven, she discovered it online.
A classmate had shown her.
The child came home confused.
“Why is that lady yelling at you?”
The chairwoman stopped.
Her husband looked toward her.
They had expected this eventually.
Not at seven.
The chairwoman sat beside her daughter.
“She thought I didn’t belong in her store.”
“Why?”
“She made assumptions.”
“What assumptions?”
The chairwoman looked toward her husband.
He did not rescue her.
Fair.
She answered:
“She thought things about me because of how I looked.”
The child frowned.
“But you looked pretty.”
The chairwoman smiled sadly.
“Looking pretty doesn't stop people making assumptions.”
“Was it because you're Black?”
“Partly.”
The little girl looked angry.
“Did you fire her?”
There it was.
The satisfying ending.
The chairwoman said:
“The company investigated what happened.”
“That means yes?”
“Eventually she lost her job.”
The daughter smiled.
“Good.”
The chairwoman did not correct the emotion.
Children wanted justice simple.
Then she added:
“But that's not the most important thing.”
“What is?”
“Making the store better so another person doesn't need to own the company to be treated well.”
The daughter thought.