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She seemed a bit confused, then obviously remembered what her story was supposed to be.
“I’m making a leaflet. For the tourists.”
From the way her eyes went wide and she tried to keep her face expressionless, he’d say he was being fed a story. Lake found it hard to care. After all, what could a bunch of women do with a picture?
“Sure, take your pictures,” he told her.
She seemed relieved. He posed beside the cash register and beside the men’s underwear rack. Then she roped Betty in and he posed with her. Twice. Because Betty screwed up the first picture by making the victory sign.
“Okay,” he said. “We’re done here. I have to take a shower and run a shop.”
“Thank you,” the woman said.
“No problem,” he said as she walked to the door. “Tell Kirsty I hope she can use them.”
“Will do,” she called back. Then hung her head.
He could hear her cursing under her breath all the way out of the shop. With a grin, Lake went to shower.
“Want to tell me why you’re taking pictures of me?” Lake said as he entered Kirsty’s office.
She had on a pink dress that came to below her knee and the same black boots that made him drool every time he saw them. The collar on her dress was high and she wore a silk scarf around her neck. Everything was carefully covered, as usual.
“Why hello, Lake,” she said with a smile that reminded him of a snake. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”
“Of course you don’t.”
She was standing in front of a mannequin, pinning butter-yellow material to it.
“Why are you here?” she said. “To snoop?” She slapped herself on the forehead. “Oh no, wait, you break in when I’m not here to do your snooping.”
Lake didn’t correct her. He also didn’t tell her that she’d been asleep at the time.
“You really need better locks. Your security sucks. A kid could break in here. Even Betty could break in here.”
“Don’t you go putting any ideas in her head,” Kirsty said. “I have enough problems as it is.”
“At least get some new locks.”
“With what? Every last penny I have right now is invested in wiping your shop off the face of the earth.”
“Fine. I’ll get you some.”
“You will not.” She put the material on the desk beside her and went over to her desk. “Why are you here?” she said again.
He plopped down in the chair on the other side of her purple desk.
“We need to figure out how this fashion show is going to run.”
“I do my thing. You do yours.”
“I think we need to coordinate a little more than that. The press will be there. We need to put on a united front.”
“Work together? I don’t think so.”
“It makes sense.”
“Do I look like I care?”
