Page 91 of Warrior's Captive
It had taken two weeks, including the tax filing required to permit her to hire Shira as an assistant, with no special consideration because of Tai’ri’s connections. At least none that she had indicated on her forms.
“I didn’t realize I ordered so many supplies,” she said, looking around. “We might not have enough space.”
Contractors had already come and gone, outfitting the studio with custom display shelves, storage units and tables and chairs for classes. She’d chosen light, cheerful colors that managed to retain a sense of elegance without descending into childish. The front was a pane of glass letting in natural light, and the artificial lighting embedded in the ceiling and walls added to the glow. Right now they worked with the artificial lights off, since Mayleen was asleep.
“There’s enough space,” Shira said, and stood, slipping Ori back into his sling and straightening her clothing. “He’s had his lunch, now it’s time for mine. What do you want? I feel like walking.”
“Whatever you decide is fine.”
Shira nodded. “I’ll bring back something for Yolu, too.” She left the studio, walking at a leisurely stroll.
They’d fallen into a routine this first week in the studio. Paint, install fixtures in the morning. Work on the website and program offerings. Start to unpack shipments around lunchtime and then break to eat. After lunch they’d work for a few more hours then Yolu would accompany the women for a walk in the park before Vivian headed home and Shira was escorted to the small apartment she’d chosen in a nearby neighborhood.
“Shira said she’s getting lunch,” Yolu said, entering the studio. He’d been outside dealing with a damaged delivery. “I told her to order triples. Stupidity makes me hungry. I can’t believe the way people handle packages marked as fucking delicate these days. Excuse my language.”
As they unpacked, he collapsed the biodegradable shipping containers and stacked them along a far wall. Each container’s items were put away properly before opening another. It prevented what could have been a giant mess.
She suspected he was tidy as a security precaution, however. It was hard to fight when tripping over piles of random stuff scattered over the floor.
He left to deal with another delivery. Tai’ri had been adamant—until they caught the broker who’d gotten away that horrible day Tai’ri had almost died, the women had to maintain their security. Which meant Yolu handled couriers, and Banujani and the team were still guarding Vivian.
A buzzer sounded. Vivian turned as Yolu walked through with a delivery person in tow. Most of the supplies they were unpacking were delivered by pod drones, but the occasional real person came by with more expensive items requiring additional delivery verification.
“This one almost went to the neighbors,” Yolu said. “Sloppy.”
The delivery person ignored Yolu, approaching Vivian with a datapad to press her thumb print against.
“It happens,” Vivian told him, then said thank you to the delivery person. “I’m glad the neighboring businesses are honest.”
Yolu gave her a side eye, but shrugged and began to open the new box.
A comm came through from Shira. “Hey, Vivian, I’m at the new Italian place three blocks down that makes the pasta from scratch. The wait is forty-five minutes. You want me to wait, or should we ditch them for the fried fish joint?”
“Pasta,” Yolu said. “I’m growing.”
“You heard him,” Vivian said, signing off. “Maybe we should just go with delivery from now on. I hate that she has to wait with the baby for that long.”
“One of the team is shadowing her, she’ll be fine,” Yolu said.
She and Tai’ri had spent a week scouting locations for her studio, settling on this small but trendy district that was a mix of business and residential zoning, household incomes in the target range of Vivian’s ideal customer. She wasn’t aiming for high end, not yet.
“I probably should have leased the studio with the kitchenette,” she said. “Tai’ri leaned hard on this one, though.” And considering he was financing the entire venture, she hadn’t felt quite bold enough to completely discard his preference. In the end, she liked this space well enough that going with his choice pleased her well enough.
“It was the dojo,” Yolu said. “It’s close, and he cares more about security than lunch.”
Vivian agreed and resumed sorting through her packages.
She’d met the owner of the dojo when canvassing the district, asking questions about the foot traffic, crime, and other details that helped her and Tai’ri settle on this location. She’d also be lying to herself if she didn’t admit being three doors down from a business that trained citizens in hand to hand combat made her feel safe. “Do we have any more inventory coming today?” Yolu asked. “I thought this delivery was it.”
She glanced automatically at the front door. “It was supposed to be. Maybe something came early.” Vivian began to head to the front when Yolu held out an arm.
“No,” he said sharply. “Stay back, I’ll see who it is.”
Vivian eyed him, but stopped. On her chest, Mayleen stirred and Vivian cradled an arm around the sleeping infant. She would wake to eat soon.
Yolu stalked to the front door, his demeanor shifting from laid back young man to deadly-in-training protector. One of the reasons Tai’ri had allowed her to work without him present—and until the threat assessment was lowered to zero—was because his younger brother was already in training in combat and protective services.
“Delivery for Vivian Huang,” a feminine voice chirped.
