In general, Samair wouldn’t want to live anywhere but Vancouver, but there were certainly days when it sucked. Days when it felt like the rain would never let up.
Whatever Val’s reason for letting her do a show at Risqué, Samair wasn’t going to question it again. It didn’t really matter what the reason was. What mattered was this was her chance to launch Trouble in a way that could really make a difference.
She’d spent some time the night before on the computer looking at fetish websites, as well as lingerie ones. Her designs were unique, but not out of this world, and to make them work for what had become the Fetish and Fantasy show, the right material for each piece was essential.
So far, leather, PVC, and various types of lace were on here list, but not everything was making it into her basket. Prices were high and she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to get everything she needed.
Panic was starting to get a grip when her phone rang. She snatched it out of her pocket before the second peal could sound. While she enjoyed the convenience of a cell phone, and knew it was smart thing to have, she hated the sound of them ringing in public.
“Hello,” she said without checking the caller ID.
“Samair,” a voice sing-songed. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Remembering that she now gave out business cards with that number she refrained from snapping. Instead, she rolled her eyes and focused on the bolt of netting in front of her. “How can I help you?”
“Well for starters you can tell me why my favorite sales girl isn’t at Rosa’s anymore, and why I had to read on a flyer that my girl is having a fashion show!”
“Ginger?” A grin split Samair’s face. “Oh my God, it’s great to hear your voice! How are you?”
“I’m fantastic as always. And it seems like you are, too. Fetish and Fantasy show, hmmm. You are full of surprises.”
Samair quick walked out the front door of the fabric warehouse to stand outside and talk. The rain had turned to a light drizzle so she stayed under the door awning.
Ginger had been her coworker at Rosa’s for years. When Samair was part time in college, Ginger was the full time girl. She’d quit just before Bethany got pregnant and left, and while she’d drop by and say hi to Samair every now and then, Samair had never really thought of her as a close friend.
But there was no denying the sound of Ginger’s voice hit a certain button for her. “Things change. Rosa’s place sucked without you and Bethany, and the opportunity for the show came at just the right time so I went for it. Or I should say I’m trying to go for it.”
“What do you mean try? If I remember correctly that word isn’t part of your vocabulary.”
“Well, starting up this design label was a bit of a spur of the moment thing, and while I do have a savings, it’s nowhere near as much as it should be.”
“Ohhh. Money issues huh, doll?”
There was a rustling sound and Ginger’s voice faded behind running water. “Ginger?”
“I’m here, sorry. Had to rinse this film or I’d lose it.”
Samair felt like an idiot. Here she’d been going on about herself and she’d never even thought to ask how Ginger’s new business was going. It seemed like everyone wanted to work for themselves these days. “How’s the photography going?”
“Doing good. Life is good.”
“Still with Jason, eh?” Samair laughed.
“Yeah, the man o’ my dreams. Listen, hun, I have to run right now but I had to track you down and tell you Bethany and I are coming to your show. We wouldn’t miss it for the world. If you need anything, anything at all, you call okay?”
Emotion clogged Samair’s throat. “I will.”
“And, Samair…”
“Yes?”
“One thing I learned when starting up my thing was that if you have a decent limit on your credit card, which I know you do, a lot of places will let you set up a business account to pay monthly, and you can barter for discounts.”
“Thank you.”
Samair hung up the phone and had to stand outside for a few extra minutes. When she’d walked in on Kevin and Lisa, she’d thought she had no friends other than Joey, who she’d turned away from slowly over the years. And the phone call was Ginger was proof that she had been wrong.
Sometimes, being wrong was a beautiful thing.