Page 12 of Afternoon Delight
“Mmm, my brand is all about personal empowerment and independence and self-care. I don’t want to explain why I’m relying on you to run my store.”
“Hey, self-care is recognizing when you need help. Plus, you’re giving me a chance to explore my own independence and learn something new—so thank you. How about I start with a post to social media? I’ll write it up and you can tweak it so it sounds like you. Do you have a newsletter?”
“Yes, but it only has nine subscribers.”
“Better than none. Give me your credentials. I’ll send out a notice that you’re open again. Maybe I’ll survey them? Ask them what they liked about your store? Oh, I could get some testimonials for some ads.”
“Good God, you sound like Vickie. I mean that as a compliment,” she hurried to add. “Remember that time she took measurements for the entire volleyball team and made us new uniforms? After her fundraiser was so successful that we could have just bought fresh tank tops? Granted, we looked fly as hell, but why does she have to go the extra mile?”
“Type-A needs an A,” I said with a grimace of guilt. “Do you know what she said when I told her I was doing this? She offered to work here with me so I don’t ruin your future along with my own.”
“Did you tell her that ship has sailed?”
“I—” My heart soared as the sleigh bell jangled and Zak held the door open.
He stepped one foot inside and stared at the condom tree in the window. His dark brow angled up in a bent wing as he shot a questioning look my way.
“That’s it,” I told him. “It’s a display thingy to show how pretty the condoms are.”
“That’s it?” He looked both outraged and crestfallen.
“I was bummed, too.”
He sighed and gave a little chin chuck in acknowledgment that I was on the phone. “Talk to you later.” He disappeared as abruptly as he’d arrived.
“Customer?” Georgia asked hopefully.
“No. Try not to hate me, but your landlord has a son. He’s very hot.” I was still grinning at his reaction.
“Zak?”
“You’ve met him?” I asked. “He thought I was you.”
“Zara mentioned him. They’re twins.” Georgia yawned and swore. “That’s it. I’m fogging out.”
“Okay. I’ll text if I have questions.”
I hung up and began composing posts, considering whether to add photos. I snapped out of my concentration when a young woman with blue hair hesitantly entered.
“Hi. Are you, um, open?”
“I am. Hi,” I said with my friendliest smile. “Come in.”
“I work at Brim Stokers.” She pointed across the street. “I’m on my break. I was just curious. This place has been closed since I started.”
“I’m Meg. Have a look around. Let me know if you have questions.” I was proud of how confident I sounded.
I realized Georgia had a blog page on her website and started writing something for it, giving my customer some privacy.
She was like a cat in a new house—moving cautiously and glancing into all the corners, relaxing marginally as she realized we were the only two in here.
“I’ve never used anything like these before,” she said, giving a little wave of her hand toward the vibrators and dildos.
I thought about Georgia’s innate honesty and Zak telling me to tell a story. Selling was about establishing a connection—and this store was all about intimacy, right?
I set aside the tablet and gave her the truth.
“I haven’t really, either. My ex-husband bought a few toys over the years, trying to spice things up. I never really got off on them—haha. Maybe that’s why he’s my ex.” My wry joke earned a glimmer of a smile.
