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And the building wouldn't actually be hers, she reminded herself. It would be theirs. Hers, Laura's, and the bank's. But in two weeks' time, she would be sleeping in that little room upstairs. In a sleeping bag if need be.
Then by midsummer, the doors of Pretenses would open.
And the rest, she thought with a laugh, would be history.
She turned at the tap on the glass and saw Kate.
"Hey, open up, will you? I'm on my lunch hour. Thought I'd find you here gloating," she said when Margo opened the door. "It still smells," she added after a testing sniff.
"What do you want, Kate? I'm busy."
Kate studied the clipboard and the pocket calculator on the floor. "Did you figure out how to work that thing?"
"You don't have to be a CPA to use a calculator."
"I meant the clipboard."
"Ha ha."
"You know, the place grows on you." Hands tucked in her trouser pockets, Kate wandered. "It's a nice busy area, too. Should pull in some walk-in traffic. And people on vacation are always buying things they don't have any use for. The secondhand clothes, though. Everything's going to be a size eight."
"I've already thought of that. I'm working on some other stock. I know a lot of people who ditch their wardrobes every year."
"Smart people buy classics—seasonless classics—then they don't have to worry."
"How many navy blue blazers do you own, Kate?"
"Half a dozen," she said and grinned, then thumbed a Tums out of the roll in her pocket. Her idea of lunch. "But that's just me. Here's the deal, Margo. I want in."
"In what?"
"In on the building." She popped the antacid, crunched it. "I've got some money to invest; and I don't see why you and Laura should have all the fun."
"We don't need a partner."
"Sure you do. You need someone who knows the difference between black ink and red." Bending down, she scooped up the calculator and began to run figures. "You and Laura put in twelve-five apiece, cash. Now you'll have the settlement costs, points, insurance, taxes. Which should bring.it up to somewhere around, oh, eighteen each, which makes it thirty-six." Taking glasses out of her breast pocket, she put them on as she continued to work. "Divide that by three, and it makes twelve each, which is less than you've already shelled out."
She paced as she cleared figures, added more. "Now, you've got repairs, remodeling, maintenance, utilities, business license fees, more taxes, bookkeeping—I can set the books up for you, but I don't have time to take on another client right now so you'll have to hire someone or learn to add."
"I can already add," Margo said, stung.
Kate merely took out a small electronic memo and entered a reminder to herself to earmark time to give Margo a course in basic bookkeeping. The cellular phone in her briefcase rang, and she ignored it. Her service would have to deal with that until her current business was concluded.
"There's the overhead for shopping bags, tissue paper, boxes, cash register tape," she continued. "That'll bump things back up into six figures in no time. You'll have fees to the credit card companies since your clientele will be using primarily plastic." Tipping the glasses down, she peered at Margo over the tops. "You do intend to accept all major credit cards, don't you?"
"I—"
"See, you need me." Satisfied, she bumped up the glasses again. No joint venture between Laura and Margo was going to exclude her, no matter how many funds she had to juggle. "Of course, I'll just be a silent partner, as I'm the only one of the three of us who has a real job."
Margo narrowed her eyes. "How silent?"
"Oh, just a peep now and then." All the practicalities were already ordered in her tidy mind. "You'll have to figure out how and when to replace your stock once it starts to sell, what your markup percentage needs to be to ensure your profit margin. Oh, then there's legal fees. But we can talk Josh into handling that. How did you get him to let you use his Jag? That is his new Jag out front, isn't it?"
Margo's expression turned smug. "You could say I'm test-driving it."
Lifting her brows, Kate slipped her glasses off and back into her pocket. "Are you test-driving him?"
"Not yet."
