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Kirsty wanted to jump up and down like a toddler having a tantrum. The man was driving her crazy. Nothing she did had any effect on him.
“I hate you,” she said. “And I hate those damn lips of yours.”
Then she stormed back into the shop, past a laughing Magenta and upstairs to her flat to start a new list in a new cupboard.
The day of the grand opening brought a clear blue sky. Perfect. Lake pushed up the old sash window in his living room and stuck his head out. Chilly, but beautiful. The hills that surrounded Invertary were gold in the early morning light and the loch glimmered like a diamond. He was about to go back inside when he spotted the curtain in Kirsty’s bedroom twitch. He smiled. She was watching him. He waved. The curtain went suddenly still. She was trying to pretend he hadn’t caught her. Funny. A moment later, the curtain pulled back, the window opened and Kirsty appeared.
“Ready to pack up shop and leave yet?” he called across the empty street.
For a minute, he thought she wouldn’t reply. Then he saw a glint of steel in her eye that made him feel oddly proud.
“A makeover isn’t going to get you new business,” she told him. “People don’t buy lingerie because of the colour of your walls. They buy it because you know what you’re doing. Which you don’t.”
Man, she was beautiful. She made the scenery pale in comparison.
“Good to see we’ve got you worried,” he said.
“I’m worried, all right. Worried about the influence you’re having on Betty and worried about the sister you’re trampling all over to prove a point. But there’s no way I’m worried about you, soldier boy. You’re no threat to me. I eat men like you for breakfast.”
There was a moment’s silence. Lake’s stomach clenched.
“I take it that wasn’t an offer,” he said at last.
Kirsty’s eyes popped open in shock. Her cheeks flushed.
“No, it wasn’t an offer. Keep those lips to yourself.”
“Why is it everything you say sounds rude?”
She glared at him before slamming the window shut.
Lake whistled an old U2 song while he went through his pre-run stretching. It was a perfect morning for a run. The best way he knew to get ready for the day. Be fit, be on top of things. He was going to win the war. He cast a glance towards Kirsty’s flat as he shut his front door behind him. Oh yeah, he was going to win the war and he was going to win over Kirsty too. He ran towards the loch feeling as though life was pretty much perfect.
“Come on, Kirsty,” her mum said. “Come across the road with us.”
Kirsty looked up from her laptop, which was still working, thank goodness.
“No. I’m not giving him the satisfaction.”
“But it looks like fun,” said Jean.
Shona elbowed her in the ribs and told her off in a look.
“We can scope the place out for future attacks,” said Shona. “Maybe we can sabotage things while we’re there.”
“I’m still not coming.”
“Kirsty Campbell, I didn’t raise you to be a coward. You can face the man in good grace, compliment him on his opening and then tell everyone you have better underwear.”
Jean started to giggle.
“What?” her mum demanded.
“You said ‘compliment him on his opening’. It sounds rude.”
Shona smacked Jean on the back of the head.
“Grow up,” she told her.
