“Kickstarter.”
Elizabeta stared at Kristin. They were sitting at her dining table, sipping on wine and brainstorming ideas on funding Effortless Elegance while her mother cooked dinner. Upstairs, Nicky was doing his homework and Angie was deep into her latest design.
Elizabeta had spent the morning researching what she needed to do to continue Effortless Elegance. She’d spoken to Bob about the cost of hiring him to do the filming and had started to get an idea how much of his own money Henri had put into it. She’d looked at the cost of the editing software, and the training required to learn how to use it. She’d found out how much it would cost to get someone to do the editing for her. She’d talked to Mac about the cost of hosting the website – he’d been happy to continue hosting it for free, thankfully.
Still, at the end of the day, what she had was the will, and ideas, but also the understanding that it was going to cost money to keep the series going. She could use some of the money Henri was paying her, but she saw that as the future good for her children, and didn’t want to take any of it.
She didn’t want to think about him. Think about how perfect last night was. How impossible it was to have him in her life.
“Kickstarter?”
“Yeah. A friend of mine used it, and didn’t get the money they needed, but I bet you would.”
It wasn’t a reassuring story. Elizabeta searched for the website and quickly recognised it was a form of crowdfunding. They’d studied it a little during her MBA, but it was still in its infancy and the lecturers hadn’t been convinced it would take off as a way of funding businesses.
It looked like the lecturers were wrong. Googling ‘crowdfunding’ brought up a range of websites and options to use. Perhaps that was the way to go, although it was going to be a month or so before the money came in. In the meantime, she could use a bit of her savings. And if she organised the crowdfunding to support six months’ worth of Effortless Elegance, by then she would hopefully have found advertisers to support it and it would be self-sustaining.
“Mama.” Angie appeared at the sliding door. “I need walk.”
Elizabeta knew what that meant – Angie had become stuck with a problem she was having and needed to get away from it to work it out. “Of course, darling.” Elizabeta looked at Kristin. “You can stay, if you like. We won’t be long.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d love to come for a walk,” Kristin said.
“Is that all right, Angie?”
“Yay.” Angie clapped her hands.
So they went for a walk around the block, Angie in between Elizabeta and Kristin. Kristin started asking questions about Angie’s designs, and Angie chatted and her face glowed with happiness at being able to talk fashion with someone who got it.
“I was thinking,” Kristin said, “I’d love to use your designs in the magazine.”
Elizabeta frowned. She didn’t like new ideas being discussed in front of Angie.
“What magazine?” Angie said.
“Regal.”
“Mama work there. She get her boss to like me.”
“He does like you. Very much.”
Angie turned to Elizabeta with bright eyes. “Mama. Boss likes me.”
“That’s wonderful.” Elizabeta gave Kristin what she hoped was a quelling glance. “Tell us about the dress you’re working on at the moment.”
Angie turned back to Kristin. “You put dresses in magazine?”
“Yes. We have a special issue coming up called ‘Who to look out for’, where we find talented young people starting out. I’d love you to be the designer to look out for.”
“Mama.” Angie grabbed Elizabeta’s arms. “I in magazine.”
It sounded wonderful, but Elizabeta needed to find out the details and think through the ramifications for Angie’s career. Was it too soon? They didn’t have a method to manufacture the designs, and what if Angie didn’t have enough designs to satisfy people.
“Mama will talk to Kristin and see if we should do it.”
Angie pulled away and frowned. “I in magazine.”
Please, please don’t have a tantrum in front of Kristin. “You will be in a magazine, sweetie. I promise. We need to make sure this is the right magazine. The right time.”
“I be with Kristin.” Angie wound her arm through Kristin’s and jutted out her chin. Elizabeta looked at Kristin who had obviously realised she’d erred because she mouthed the word ‘Sorry’.
“You will be. Kristin’s going to help us with the business. Remember, we want this to last for a long time, so we have to be smart.”
Angie looked at Kristin. “You help us?”
“Yes. I think you’re very talented, and I want to do everything I can to help.”
“Yay Kristin.” Angie gave her a hug.
The walk continued, and Angie dropped the subject of the magazine and just chatted about what she wanted to do, the designs still floating in her mind, yet to be committed to paper let alone material.
Back home, Angie happily went upstairs to get ready for dinner.
“I’m sorry,” Kristin said as she and Elizabeta went to fetch their wines and set the table for dinner. “I didn’t realise she’d latch onto it the way she did.”
“That’s fine,” Elizabeta said. “I managed to turn it around. But remember, in future, ideas get discussed with me first so that if they aren’t going to be right, Angie never needs to know.”
“I do want to use her in the magazine,” Kristin said. “Henri is all for it as well.”
The sound of his name was like a hammer on Elizabeta’s heart. “That could catapult her business, have people wanting to buy her clothes. We haven’t got manufacturing or distribution even begun, let alone sorted.”
“The issue doesn’t come out until March. That’s four months. Could you have all those things in place by then?”
Elizabeta considered it. March had been the one of the months in her mind to launch Angelina Designs, but she hadn’t been sure she could have everything ready. But coverage in a national magazine would be a great way to launch the brand.
“Can I have a week to do some research and crunch some numbers?”
“Absolutely. We’re still at the brainstorming stage of the planning for that issue. A week would be great.”
Right. So in the next week she needed to work out how to keep Effortless Elegance going, and get another episode up online, and work out if she could do what needed to be done to launch Angelina Designs in four months. Well, she didn’t have the second job anymore, so she should be able to do it.
And as she had just proven – she did love a challenge.
Ree lifted his head, blinked several times, bent to again look at the page proofs for the upcoming issue. Words swam before him.
His eyes felt dry and swollen and his throat was scratchy. Great. After neglecting the company for two weeks to win the damn challenge, his reward was going to be the flu.
The door opened – no knocking, and why was someone here at nine at night – and Kristin walked in.
“What are you doing here?” Ree frowned.
“No point in working late if the boss doesn’t know about it,” Kristin said. “I’ve started negotiations with Elizabeta about her designer.”
“Good. Excellent. I want whoever it is in the March issue.” Yes, his throat was definitely a bit sore. He rubbed his eye.
“Something wrong?”
“I’m getting the flu. Throat hurts. Eyes are sore.”
“Have a dram of whiskey,” Kristin said. “That will kill the germs.”
Ree didn’t like to drink when he was working, but it sounded a damn good idea. He poured himself a glass and swallowed it in one go, wanting the burn of the alcohol down his throat telling him the germs were being annihilated.
“Better?” Kristin said.
“Yes.” Ree’s voice was hoarse – maybe drinking it all at once hadn’t been a good idea.
“Excellent. Now, I have a theory about your flu, and that is that it’s not flu at all.”
Ree frowned. “Then why did you suggest I have some whiskey?”
“Because I figured having some alcohol in your system will help you relax and be more open to what I want to say. You haven’t got the flu. You’re in the middle of an emotional crisis.”
Ree narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think that just because we’ve worked closely together over the past couple of weeks that you get to speak to me differently to any other employee.”
“You’re not going to fire me, because eventually you’ll realise I was right and you fired me unfairly and you’ll have to hire me back and that’s just going to be embarrassing for you. Mac and I had a long chat after you and Elizabeta left last night.”
He should have known Mac was at the bottom of this. “I wouldn’t listen to anything he comes up with if I were you. Not if you value your job.”
“Mac was quite taken with the attention you were paying Elizabeta. When I explained to him that it had been like that from the beginning, we started comparing notes and came up with a theory. After hearing that you’ve been stomping around here all day like a tiger with a headache, I think our theory is correct.”
Ree wasn’t sure which outrageous statement to comment on first. “Tiger with a headache?”
“You’ve been yelling at people all day, which is probably why your throat is sore. The whole building is abuzz with what a foul mood you’re in and how it’s nothing like you’ve done ever before and there are many stories growing about why.”
Had he been yelling at people? Sure, he’d had to be extremely terse with a few people today because for some reason they’d all chosen this day to be completely incompetent. But he didn’t yell. He froze people. He got quiet. His very presence demanded respect.
“I haven’t yelled at anyone.”
“You told Mandy from the art department she was a hack and to not return until she’d developed some talent. In a voice so loud that every secretary on this floor heard it.”
Shit. He did vaguely recall having to ream Mandy over a terrible page she’d given him. Had he really said that to her, and so loudly the rest of the floor heard?
“There’s other examples. Shall I continue?”
“No.” Ree slumped on the lounge. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Right. Back to the emotional crisis. Your behaviour today and the whole sore eye thing is part of it. Bet you have a bit of a headache too.”
Now that she mentioned it. “Go on.”
“In the past, you’ve only gotten involved with women who were disposable. But Elizabeta is a forever woman and that’s got you in a twist. You like her. Really like her. But you don’t dare actually like her. And your entire body is tying itself into a knot over it.”
“Rubbish.” The response was immediate. “Elizabeta is an amazing woman but I’m not interested in a relationship with her.”
“Of course you are. Have been from the first day of filming at my place. Maybe even before. Maybe that’s why you chose her, to get closer to her. And you’re terrified of how you’re feeling. Mac told me about your parents.”
Mac was dead. “I think I will sack you.”
“Go ahead. You’ll only cause yourself another emotional crisis when you have to re-hire me. I should have news about Elizabeta’s designer by the end of next week. Want it to be faster – go see her yourself. Have a good night, boss. Oh, and there’s a spelling error in the headline here.” Kristin lifted one of the sheets he’d already approved, waved it at him, put it down and sashayed out.
Ree sat on the couch feeling like he’d been smashed in the chest. Of course what Kristin said was complete and utter rot – he didn’t have any feelings for Elizabeta beyond wishing he could fuck her again. But there was definitely something bothering him, otherwise her words wouldn’t have had the impact they had.
He stood and went over to the sheet Kristin had held up. Sure enough, there was a massive spelling error in the headline, and he hadn’t seen it. Without Kristin, it would have gone to print like that.
He marked the necessary correction and unapproved it so it would come back to him again. He packed up. Obviously he was beyond doing any more work tonight. He’d go home, sit under the moon, have a drink and relax.
He was stressed. He needed a break. That was the answer. Once he’d got this issue of the magazine to bed, he’d organise one.