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They stared at the screen.
“Try logging out, then typing the address in the browser to see if it’s there.”
Kirsty did as she was told and up popped her site, all pink and mint coloured with Eye Candy in bold white lettering across the top of the screen.
“Buy something to see if it works,” Magenta prodded.
That seemed like a good idea, so Kirsty went through the rigmarole of buying a bra she already owned and paying the credit card fee for the privilege. She wasn’t aware she was holding her breath until the sale went through.
“Great, eh?” she said to Magenta. “Now all we need are people to flock to it and shop up large.”
Kirsty chewed her lip for a minute. There was something she wanted to tell Magenta, but she didn’t want it to seem like a big deal. Because it wasn’t. Really.
“There’s something else I want to show you,” Kirsty said.
She couldn’t look at Magenta while she spoke. Instead she pressed some keys and an advert appeared on a site that reviewed fashion and made recommendations on what to buy. It said: Special lingerie from the specialist in lingerie—Kirsty Campbell. Then it told you to buy at Eye Candy. There was a large picture of the shop, but in the corner there was a small headshot of Kirsty smiling. At last she looked up at Magenta.
Her young friend stood with her jaw hanging to her chest.
“You put yourself out there,” she said at last. There was a hint of awe in her voice that made Kirsty blush. “I am so proud of you.”
And before she knew it, Magenta, who never hugged anyone, threw her arms around Kirsty and gave her a big squeeze.
“That is amazing, Kirsty,” she said once she’d retreated to a safe distance again.
“It’s only a headshot.”
“It’s more than that,” Magenta said, with a look heavy with meaning. “We both know it’s more than that.”
Then, as things were getting too emotional for her, Magenta fled to the shop.
Kirsty stared at her picture on the screen. It’d been almost three years since she’d advertised anything. It was strange to see her image out in public again. Even stranger because she looked so different. Her hair was short now and she was fully clothed, for a start. For some reason she thought the world would stop if her photo advertised anything again. Instead, it felt kind of cool to have her image promoting a business that belonged to her.
She had to admit, Magenta was right. This was amazing. She pulled open her desk drawer and took out the little dish with the set of papier-mâché beads and put them back beside her monitor. For the first time in three years, she smiled when she looked at them.
Lake surveyed his shop with satisfaction. It was exactly how he imagined it would look—minus the underwear. Hopefully, that would arrive on Friday and they’d be up and running by Saturday. He’d planned a big launch party. Spending yet more money on food, drink and some teenager with a sound system. Dougal was catering the thing, a
lthough he said he felt terrible that he was working against Kirsty. To appease his conscience, he told Lake he was charging him ten percent more that his other customers. Lake smiled wryly and paid the man. The folk in Invertary played by their own rules, and it was mystifying. With any luck he would be long gone from town before his head blew up trying to figure them out.
With the shop sorted, and Betty back with cakes and her favourite fluorescent orange soft drink, Lake called a meeting in the office. He’d put a whiteboard up on the wall behind Betty’s old desk and stood at it like a teacher. Betty munched on something called a Fern cake, looking more eager than mad for a change, while Rainne slumped in the chair beside Betty. Everything about her screamed that she was hoping to be rescued.
“Okay, so this is the current situation,” Lake said in his briefing voice.
Man, he missed being in charge. He missed talking to a group of men who actually knew what they were doing. Instead he had an evil Hobbit and a scared hippy for a team. He cleared his throat.
“We’re behind schedule,” he said as he started to write on the board. “Opening is Saturday. Underwear arrives Friday, so that gives us a day to get the shop sorted. So no disappearing.” He pointed at Rainne. “The sign for the shop arrives on Friday morning. We’re going to be busy that day, people. All hands on deck.”
“Aye, we know all that, but what about the war? What are we doing about the war?” Betty demanded through a mouthful of cake.
“This is the war,” Lake told her. “The whole point is to turn this shop around. Make profit. Be the last shop standing. We don’t do that by eliminating the competition. We do it by selling more underwear.”
“That’s boring,” Betty huffed.
Lake grinned, folding his arms over his old Muddy Waters T-shirt.
“I thought you’d say that,” he told her. “This isn’t the only thing we’re doing. This is only one arm of the campaign. There are five. We’re following the Watts model. Don’t worry, there will be plenty to keep you busy. You won’t be bored.”
As Betty gave him a toothless grin, and he wondered where her teeth were, Rainne scowled and sank deeper into her seat.
