Page 43 of Afternoon Delight
“I’ve been meaning to text you,” I said. “You look incredible, by the way.”
“I’m on my way to an audition for Kinky Boots.”
“Here?”
“In Vancouver, but they have an open call at a theatre downtown, so I thought, what the hell. What were you going to text me about?” His expression sobered with concern.
“Georgia told me you might want to talk to me about a business idea you have.”
“Oh. No, I don’t want to impose.” He flicked his long red nails.
“Impose,” I insisted. “I’m an accountant on hiatus. I’m happy to look at your business plan or just answer some questions. You can have my two cents for two cents. What kind of business is it?”
“It’s still more of an idea. I’m thinking of opening a boutique that caters to trans folk.”
“Here?” Victoria was pretty diverse, but I had no idea how big the trans community was. Clothing retail was a tough slog when it was mainstream fast fashion. My first thought was that it might be too niche to be profitable in a smaller center. My second thought was taxes. “Are you Canadian?”
“Dual. Born in Winnipeg, mostly lived in California. My dad hated shoveling snow.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Right? No, I haven’t decided where. I just want a space where people can feel comfortable trying things on and figuring out what works for them. It can be intimidating to go into a shop when you’re a baby trans.”
“Can I ask...” I hesitated. “Are you trans?”
“No, hon. I’m a gay man who can sing and dance and happens to love high heels, but my niece is always looking for school clothes that are comfortable and let her feel like who she is.”
“Said every woman ever.” It wasn’t really a joke. “Does she live here?”
“Manitoba. That’s where most of my family is. I helped her find binders and shapers online. There are some specialty boutiques in bigger cities, but not many. I looked at what Georgia’s doing here...” He glanced around. “Setting herself up for the next stage of her life. I love performing, but the travel wears thin. I also love making costumes and clothes, and I see a need. I thought Georgia could give me some tips on writing a business plan and getting funding.”
“I can do that. Let me pull some thoughts together and get back to you.”
“I’d appreciate that. But that’s not why I came in. Georgia’s having her surgery today, isn’t she?”
“She is.” I sagged a little, grateful to let my cheerful mask slip. “I didn’t want to say anything—privacy and all. How did you know? Did she tell you?”
“I talked to Gail at your thing last week. She said she’d keep you posted, so I figured I’d check in.”
“I haven’t heard anything yet, only that she went into hospital last night for prep. It’ll be several hours.”
“Mmm.” Negasi frowned, concerned.
“That’s also why I haven’t booked our reservation for your show yet. It’s Mom’s birthday tomorrow. I know I could cancel if I have to, but I just want to be sure everything goes well for Georgia. I’m sure it will,” I added quickly. “I’m thinking all good thoughts.” I mentally sent strength and wellness into my favorite visions of Georgia being sassy and happy and full of her I-can-do-anything confidence.
“Me, too,” Negasi said in that warm, soothing voice. “And, sugar, you’re A-list. You’ll always get a table.”
“Pah!” I had to laugh at being called A-list while wearing comfort clothes—distressed jeans, a mock turtleneck, and a warm but shapeless red-and-black flannel. Then I blurted, “Do you want to hang out for a bit? The quiet of the store doesn’t usually bother me, but today it’d be nice to have company.” Especially someone who cared about Georgia as much as I did.
“I have that audition.” He glanced at his phone.
“Right. Sorry. Break a leg.”
“Thanks. I’ll come back after, though. I’ll bring donuts.”
“Yes, please. You can’t be anything but optimistic when you have a mouthful of sprinkles.”
“Baby girl, don’t I know it.” He sauntered out the door.
