Chapter 15 - SABINE LAURENT
Sabine’s interview lasted three hours.
Her second interview lasted two.
On the third, she asked to speak directly to me.
We met at the flagship before opening.
The showroom looked strangely innocent without customers.
White gowns.
Mirrors.
Flowers.
Soft light.
Sabine sat across from me.
“I know you’re deciding whether to terminate me.”
“I’m deciding what your role in the culture was.”
“That sounds gentler.”
“It isn’t.”
She nodded.
Fair.
Sabine had been with Bellamy & Rowe seventeen years.
Sales associate.
Senior stylist.
Private-client director.
Flagship manager.
She knew the system because she had succeeded inside it.
“I protected revenue,” she said.
“By protecting abusive customers.”
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because that was how managers were evaluated.”
“That explains incentive.”
“Yes.”
“Not choice.”
She looked down.
“No.”
I asked about Naomi.
Sabine closed her eyes.
“She should have been promoted two years ago.”
“Why wasn’t she?”
“I thought certain clients wouldn’t respond to her.”
“Did you test that?”
“No.”
“Then whose belief was it?”
“Mine.”
That answer cost her something.
Good.
Not because I wanted pain.
Because responsibility requires ownership.
She continued.
“I thought I was being realistic.”
“That word has done extraordinary damage in this company.”
“I know.”
I asked whether she had intentionally steered clients away from Black or working-class associates.
“Not systematically.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She swallowed.
“Yes, sometimes.”
The air felt heavier.
There are admissions that change what options remain.
I had considered keeping Sabine as manager under oversight.
That became harder.
She looked at me.
“If you buy the company, I should probably go.”
I did not answer.
“I’m not asking you to fire me to make yourself feel clean,” she continued. “I’m telling you I don’t know if people will believe the rules changed while I’m still the person who enforced the old ones.”
That was more sophisticated than I expected.
“Do you want to stay?”
She thought.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because this is my career.”
Good.
No fake martyrdom.
No noble resignation.
Just truth.
I said:
“If the acquisition closes, I won’t keep you as flagship manager.”
Her face tightened.
She nodded.
“I expected that.”
“I’m considering offering you a non-supervisory transition role for six months, focused on client handoff and operational documentation.”
She looked surprised.
“Why?”
“Because firing one manager and declaring culture repaired would be theater.”
Sabine stared at me.
“You think I can help?”
“I think you know where the system hides.”
“And after six months?”
“No promise.”
She nodded slowly.
“That’s fair.”
Before leaving, Sabine stood beneath the chandelier.
“I’m sorry about what happened to you.”
“Thank you.”
“And to your mother.”
I looked at her.
“You didn’t know her.”
“No.”
“Then don’t borrow guilt that isn’t yours.”
She absorbed that.
May you like
I had learned it from Bernice.
Maybe accountability, like cruelty, could also travel through institutions.
