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Personally, she appreciated the cold viciousness in his voice, but… "Josh, I'm not sure Laura would want you rousting him out at this point.'
"I outrank Laura in the Templeton feeding chain. I'll take care of the shipment as soon as I can. Are there any surprises I should be prepared for?''
Her American Express bill had arrived just before she'd left. She decided he didn't need another shock just then. "No, nothing worth mentioning. I'm sorry to dump this on you, Josh. I mean that, but I don't know how else to stay here with Laura and get this shop up and running before I'm shipped off to debtors' prison."
"Don't worry about it. Chaos is my business." He imagined her leaving everything in that chaos to rush off to support a friend. Loyalty, he thought, was and always had been her most admirable quality. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm good. And still untouched," she added. "Are you alone in that bed?"
"Except for
the six members of the all-girl Swedish volleyball team. Helga's got a hell of a spike. Aren't you going to ask what I'm wearing?"
"Black Speedos, sweat, and a big smile."
"How'd you guess? So, what are you wearing?" Slowly, she ran her tongue around her teeth. "Oh, just this little… very little… white lace teddy."
"And stiletto heels."
"Naturally. With a pair of sheer hose. They have little pink roses around the tops. It matches the one I'm tucking between my breasts right now. I should add I've just gotten out of the tub. I'm still a little… wet."
"Jesus. You're too good at this. I'm hanging up." Her response was a long, throaty laugh. "I'm going to love driving that Jag. Let me know when to expect the shipment." When the phone clicked in her ear, she laughed again, turned, and found herself nearly face to face with Kate. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to be confused. Were you just having phone sex with Josh? Our Josh?"
Carelessly, Margo brushed her hair behind her ear. "It was more foreplay really. Why?"
"Okay." She'd have to give that one some thought. "Now what is this about getting a shop up and running?"
"My, my, you do have big ears, don't you?" Margo tugged on them hard enough to make Kate yelp. "Well, sit down. I might as well tell you the master plan."
Kate listened, her only comments the occasional grunt, snort, or mutter. "I suppose you've calculated start-up costs?"
"Ah—"
"Right. And you've looked into licenses, fees, applied for a tax number."
"I have a few details to iron out," Margo muttered. "And it's just like you to toss cold water in my face."
"Gee, and here I thought it was cool common sense."
"Why shouldn't I make a business out of selling my things?" Margo demanded. "What's wrong with turning humiliation into an adventure? Just because I hadn't thought about applying for some stupid tax number doesn't mean I can't pull this off."
Sitting back, Kate tapped her fingertips together. It wasn't an entirely insane idea, she mused. In fact, it had some solid financial merit. Liquidation of assets tied to old-fashioned free enterprise. Kate decided she could help iron out some of the details if Margo was truly set on giving capitalism a try. It would be risky, certainly, but then Margo had always been one for taking risks.
"You're going to be a shopkeeper?"
Eyes bland, Margo studied her manicure. "I'm thinking of it more as a consultant position."
"Margo Sullivan," Kate marveled, "selling used clothes and knickknacks."
"Objets d'art."
"Whatever." Amused, Kate stretched out her legs, crossed them at the ankles. "It looks like hell has finally frozen over."
Chapter Nine
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