Rafael's Convenient Proposal. Rebecca Winters

I wasn’t surfing, I was reading beneath a beach umbrella. At an early age I became addicted to comic books. My father has a huge collection dating from the forties to the present which he treasures to this day. I must have read every one of them and particularly liked the stories about the Amazon women from Paradise Island with their secret powers.”

      He turned to the audience. “Put her in one of those sexy little outfits, and she’d look just like them.” His remark provoked more whistles and cheers.

      Mallory ignored the remark. When the din died down she said, “During the WWII years, the man who created that series once said that if women were given a little more time and the added strength they’d develop out of the war, they’d begin to control things in a serious way. When women ruled, there wouldn’t be any more war because the girls wouldn’t want to waste time killing men.”

      Another loud burst of applause broke out.

      “Needless to say, those comments found a resonant chord in me. From that moment on I decided I would be one of those women who would begin to control things in a serious way.”

      By now most of the women were on their feet clapping while the band played some more theme music. When it finally subsided and they sat down again the host said, “So it’s true that since you’ve taken over the reins, Lady Windemere has become an all women-run company?”

      Mallory nodded, then cocked her head. The unconscious gesture caused her long, glistening hair, the color of dark mink, to slide over one shoulder.

      “That’s right. Women want to be beautiful for men, but they dress and put on makeup to pass a woman’s inspection. You’re married, Mr. Hendley. When your wife asks you if you like her in pink or red lipstick, what do you say?”

      “That I like her no matter what she wears.”

      “Exactly. You sound like a good husband who knows how to stay out of hot water. But you’re no help because you don’t want to offend her by giving her a wrong answer.

      “The female managers and employees at Lady Windemere don’t have to be careful in the same way. They’ll tell a customer the truth and create a pallet of colors just for her to make her feel her most beautiful and confident. In the end she’ll buy more products and stay loyal to the brand for life.”

      “In other words, I won’t be able to find a man to wait on me if I walk into one of your stores.”

      Her remarks had gotten under his skin. She sat back in the chair resting her hands on the armrests.

      “No.”

      “Some might argue that you’re sexist.”

      Mallory had been waiting for that salvo. She re-crossed her long elegant legs. “After taking a good look at Windemere, I saw what I thought needed doing in order to turn it into a promising business concern.

      “If I were in the hierarchy of a company that didn’t cater exclusively to women, naturally the question of whether to employ males or females wouldn’t be a relevant issue.”

      His brows lifted. “You mean you wouldn’t fire all the men and put a bunch of women in charge, say—if you headed a national auto parts chain that was going under?”

      The man refused to let the subject go. Maybe that was why his ratings were slipping. Mallory was beginning to understand why the network was planning to install a woman co-host. They needed a feminine element to offset his sexist outlook on life.

      “If it were in my power to hire and fire, I’d see who was productive and who wasn’t. Whether male or female, they’d be gone if they didn’t have the company’s best interest at heart.”

      He sat back in his chair, eyeing her speculatively. “We only have a minute left before we have to go. I see a lot of hands in the audience.” He turned to them. “What’s your question?”

      “How about a date after the show?” a half a dozen guys shouted.

      Mallory had known better than to expect any questions about Lady Windemere cosmetics, not after the way the host had handled the program.

      “Thank you, but my busy schedule won’t permit it,” she answered with another smile. “You’ve been such a great audience, I want you to have some samples of Lady Windemere products I brought with me. They’ll be outside the doors when you leave.”

      While the audience cheered and clapped, she pulled a gift-wrapped package from her purse.

      “This is for your wife, Mr. Hendley. Compliments of Lady Windemere.” Actually it was from Liz who’d placed a personal note inside.

      “I’m sure she’ll enjoy your products. Thank you.” He put it to one side. “Before we sign off, can you tell the audience what your plans are after you leave New York?”

      “Yes. I’m on my way to Europe to visit our newest store in Lisbon.”

      “So it’s business as usual. Did you pick up a degree in Portuguese while you were at Yale too?”

      His condescension bored her.

      “Don’t I wish. Fortunately for me the new manager communicates in excellent English and Spanish as well as her native tongue.”

      He turned to the band and started speaking Spanish to one of the Hispanic members, supposedly to impress his audience, but Mallory’s thoughts were on the new manager she was going to visit, Lianor D’Afonso.

      The Portuguese woman exemplified the company’s top female executives abroad who were intelligent, sophisticated, lovely, feminine and possessed great business sense.

      During the three week training session in Los Angeles where six European managers had come together, Mallory had felt a particular fondness for the single, twenty-nine-year-old Lianor.

      When they weren’t working, Mallory had taken her to many of the tourist sites. They’d discovered that they had a lot in common and agreed on many things.

      Mallory had grown up an only child, but if she could have had a sister, she would have wanted someone as delightful as Lianor.

      It had been almost four months since the training session had ended. Mallory had to admit she was looking forward to seeing Lianor who’d be meeting her plane tomorrow evening.

      “We’re out of time folks,” Jack Hendley said, switching back to English to regain Mallory’s attention. “It’s been a real treat to have you on the show, Ms. Ellis.”

      Naturally he didn’t ask her to come back again. She hadn’t been any fun.

      “Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Hendley.” She shook hands with him and stood up.

      As she left the stage to a round of applause and more wolf whistles, she could hear his mind saying, “Why don’t you go on home and find yourself a man. It’ll make a real woman out of you, honey.”

      Mallory had heard it all many times before.

      Relieved the show was over and she could get back to normal, she left the studio. A cab came along to take her to her hotel. She’d been working nonstop for a long time and was looking forward to a change of pace the short trip to Portugal would provide.

      Rafael D’Afonso grimaced when he realized the new Lady Windemere cosmetics boutique on the rua Da Plata appeared to be thriving.

      It was June. By now he’d hoped the American-based company where his sister had been installed as manager would have been forced to close its doors. She would have had no option but to look for another job. Maybe then he could have talked her into giving up her Lisbon apartment and coming back home.

      Unfortunately his hopes on that score were dashed last week by an offhand comment she’d made about the first quarter’s earnings being even higher than the home company had projected.

      She loved her new job and wasn’t about to give it up.

      Since