“What?” Betsy looks horrified. So much so she puts down what remains of her cheeseburger.
I dip a fry in ketchup and shove it in my mouth. “I’ll have a clipboard with questions. You just smile real nice, introduce yourself, and ask the questions. Simple.”
Betsy just stares at me. I stare right back.
“You know I don’t smile much, right? Or chat with strangers. Or wear what you all wear. I’m not generally a pleasant person.”
I nod. “I’m aware.”
“So, you think sending me out there with the sorority mamas is a good idea?” She points out the front door as if there’s a legion of scary mamas looking to tear into her.
I nod again. “I do.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Betsy mutters, getting off the stool and taking her leftovers into the back, leaving me all alone again.
Lord have mercy. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all.
CHAPTER FIVE
Betsy
“This is so fuckin’stupid,” I mutter for the thousandth time in the last twelve hours.
I had to park on Saint’s Row, which is the street in the square opposite of Golden Halo. Normally I wouldn’t mind the short walk to Mary London’s boutique, but it’s already sweltering at ten in the morning. I’m also a Doc Martens girlie for life, but I may have to rethink wearing these things in the summer. No one likes to slide around in their boots due to sweat. Ew.
Mary London’s place is a bit more modern than Silas’s, with the trim so bright white I have to squint my eyes. The front door has more swirly trim on it than the Victorians in San Francisco. No bell rings out when I step inside, but even so, Mary London calls out a greeting from somewhere in the back of the store. Ornate gold mirrors decorate the walls. Racks are stacked with golden metal hangers and clothing galore. I’ve never seen so many ruffles in one place before.
“It’s Betsy!” I call back, head swiveling to take in the display of jewelry closer to the register, along with a seating area that looks a lot like a posh club one would find back home.
Mary London comes out from the back with her arms full of shiny white bags with handles, her Golden Halo logo in embossed gold in the middle. She’s also beaming at me, like the idea of me being in her store all day is the best thing she’s heard lately.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” she calls out, dropping the bags behind the counter and coming around to pull me into a perfumed hug.
She rocks me back and forth like I’m a long-lost friend. My arms are pinned to my side, my hands flapping like a fish. It’s awkward, but also kind of nice. Back home, no one hugs each other, and until this very moment, I didn’t realize that maybe my peers and I have it wrong. As Mary London pulls back, her hands still gripping my arms, I see that her brunette hair is perfectly curled and styled. The makeup she’s sporting looks like one of those beauty pageant girls I’ve seen on television. Wow. That much makeup on a random Thursday in the summer?
Gosh. I feel woefully inadequate.
“We’re going to have the best day!” she gushes, releasing me to rush to the front and flip the little gold plaque hanging on the glass portion of the door to open.
I wave the clipboard Silas gave me, trying for a smile to match hers. I have a feeling I look ridiculous, even though I wore the incredibly short sporty dress she gave me. Mary London pauses in front of me, her hands on her hips, looking adorable in a brightly colored floral-print dress with a ruffle around the neck, sleeveless, and a belt around her tiny waist. The belt has a huge flower made out of tulle or something. Her heels are strappy and match the gold earrings dangling from her ears. The whole outfit is fancy, yet perfect for the summer weather.
“That deep blue perfectly matches your eyes, darlin’. I knew it would!” She pauses, taking in my black boots and the black velvet choker necklace around my neck. “Not necessarily the accoutrements I would have gone for, but it’s soyou.”
She bustles around me, while I stand there awkwardly. I don’t know if me being me is a good thing, but the way she says it makes me think that it might. I’ve noticed that both Mary London and her brother are eternal optimists, which I find kind of strange. I don’t know that I trust people who smile so much.
“All right. So we’re going to be a team today, Betsy. I’ll take the young girl under my wing, which will free up the mama for you. Sound good?” Mary London pulls out a vase of fresh flowers and places it on the counter right by the register.
“Um, sure. Should we have a signal or something?”
Mary London fusses with the flowers, tossing me a curious look. “A signal? What for?”
I look at the questions printed on my clipboard. “Well, in case I need rescuing?”
Mary London bursts into laughter. It’s so cheerful, like a waterfall under a rainbow, that it makes me want to join in, even if we’re laughing at me. I don’t get a chance to tell her I’m serious about the signal because the door swings opens and Mary London jumps into action. I watch her turn that blazing smile onto a young woman and what appears to be her mother. I see the two of them get sucked into her vortex, shaking my head at someone actually possessing that type of magnetism.
The younger girl follows Mary London to a rack of skirts. I take a deep breath and inch toward her mother, who has a Louis Vuitton bag over her shoulder and a rock on her left finger that might need its own zip code.
“Hey,” I begin lamely. The woman lifts her head from where she’s been feeling up a silk dress that would be a nightmare to get armpit sweat stains out of.
