Eli grinned widely. “Thanks, Corporal.” He pulled Luke’s arm and started out of the kitchen. “Let’s go before she goes all Carla Hall on us.”
Shay didn’t protest. They’d be more hindrance than help anyway.
“So you’re good with your hands?” Nia asked, her voice sultryand husky.
Subtle. “So they say.” Shay opened the bag with the ribs and pulled them out, then she went to the pantry and had to shift everything on the top shelf to get to Aaron’s sauce stash. She should’ve expected it, but when she saw the label with her momma’s handwriting across it, her breath caught, and she nearly dropped the bottle.
She ran her fingers over the delicate cursive with the flourishes on the letters l, s, and t, which Shay had often tried to imitate and always been unsuccessful. Her momma had gorgeous handwriting, reflecting her inner beauty. Shay picked at the edge of the label, but it began to rip so there was no way she could get it off in one piece. She settled for taking a photo of it to print out instead.
She took a long, deep breath and tried to fight the painful burn of her grief, which always simmered closer to the surface whenever she was around the family. She’d run away once, and at times like this, she seriously thought about doing it again.
CHAPTER 12
Rosie typedTaglineson the magic keyboard hooked up to her MacBook, then she stood, taking the keyboard with her, and began to pace her living room. She paused at the selection of the special edition tools she’d laid out on her dining room table and ran her fingers over the cool steel. They were so pretty that she actually was tempted to try building something, even if that was just screwing some pieces of wood together. She continued to pace then stopped to look out the window onto the street below and watched for a few minutes as people went about their business, unaware of her scrutiny. She drifted back to the night of Shay’s first booty call and the excited anticipation that coursed through her body as she watched Shay get out of her car and wave to her. Like the tools on Rosie’s table, she was lithe yet powerful.
She rested her keyboard on the windowsill, thinking about how resilient women and queer folk had to be to survive, and how that was compounded for Shay because of her color.Tools as Strong as You Are. She hit return and headed to the kitchen for a drink, grabbing her cup from her cluttered desk on the way. Rosie took her time fixing her coffee while she rolled the remit of Unity Tools around her brain. It would’ve been easier if they’d chosen to focus on just womenorthe LGBTQ community. She typedTools That EmpowHer, erased it, then hit undo. She’d probably need more than one tagline.
She returned to her desk, freshly caffeinated.Tools as Diverse as You Are. The needs, preferences, and experiences across the two groups required a more segmented approach, so this wasn’t going to be quite as easy as she’d first imagined. Shay’s team tickedthe women and L boxes—maybe even the B or T since she didn’t know the rest of the group well enough to be sure—but she’d need something different for the guys, trans, and non-binary peeps. These were no homogenous groups: selling something to cishet white men was a piece of cake in comparison. She tapped her nails on the photo that her boss had first tempted her with; the strength and camaraderie of the team shone through even in 2-D. Shay looked delicious in her emerald evening dress, and the memory of it hitting the floor in Rosie’s bedroom was still delightfully fresh.Tools for Every Hand and Every Heart.
Ugh. Delete. She switched back up to the page entitledVisual Campaign. Shay had a visual with wide appeal, but would she be best utilized for the focus on all women or specific sexualities? She scrolled back down to taglines.Precision, Pride, and Power in Every Tool. That could work for everyone…maybe. She thought about the photoshoot that she wanted. A mix of candid and professional shots of Shay and the team would work well. Close-ups of their hands working with the tools, emphasizing their competence and enhanced by the amazing tools,obviously. She’d need full access to them at work so she could get engaging stories and behind-the-scenes content that showcased the diversity and skill of the whole team. It was a shame they’d contract someone else to do it, because she’d love to be around Shay for that kind of time, watching her work. That fantasy of sex on the hood of Shay’s beefy car could become a reality if they worked some overtime after everyone else had gone home. Getting to see the contact sheets and raw video wouldn’t be the same, but there’d be something sexy and voyeuristic about pouring over them in the privacy of her office.Focus.
She’d need to trawl Insta and TikTok for LGBTQ and women influencers across several generations. God, this was a huge project. Perhaps she should ask Franklin if she could bring another exec in to work with her. She tapped the glass of her mouse, considering her options. She didn’t want to seem overwhelmed… She resolved to wrap her head around the scope of the project and then go to Franklin for someone to work with. She liked Anji; she’d worked with her on the female urinal device trying to compete with the market leader. Rosie laughed out loud, remembering her fascination with being able to pee standing up. Guys didn’t realize how good they had it.
Ooh, maybe they could livestream DIY car maintenance workshops at the garage. She could imagine all thelet’s ride,love, andthis is firegifts raining in for Shay and Gabe. Solo, RB, and Woody were way more average Joe, but that held its own inherent appeal too. She moved down to another page and typed,Leverage authentic storytelling to build brand loyalty. Focus on women and LGBTQ micro-influencers to create organic buzz. Utilize user-generated content to enhance relatability and trust.
Rosie took a sip of her rocket fuel and thoughts of Shay pushed for her attention. She’d been trying hard not to think about the intimacy of their conversation at the bar a week ago. Sharing her vulnerabilities and secrets had been terrifying, but they’d also been building blocks which deepened her connection to Shay. That raw honesty had brought them closer together. Shay continued to reiterate her desire to keep things simple, but that night had hinted at the potential to go beyond their physical relationship. But wasn’t that what building a stronger friendship entailed? They’d gotten together twice since that night, but Shay hadn’t engineered the conversation to her own family and the loss of her mother. If anything, they’d talked even less than before, as if Shay had realized she was overstepping the limits of her own boundaries.
She shook her head and took another gulp of coffee. Right now, she had a marketing plan to create and while Shay was part of that, dwelling on the state of their situationship wasn’t helpful. She resolved to keep things simple. That’s what Shay wanted, and it had been working well for her too. Rosie would just force herself to ignore the strong pull for something more.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard as ideas poured out ofher, fueled by caffeine and her determination to prove herself not just to Franklin, but also to herself, and to shut Mindy Fletcher up too. If Rosie left this career, it’d be on her own terms, not in one of Franklin’s regular house-cleaning furies.
Rosie’s phone buzzed and broke her attention. She glanced at the time and then her word count and smiled when she saw she’d managed nearly three thousand words. If it was Shay calling, as she hoped it would be, Rosie would be good to take a break by eight or nine. A bottle of wine and some bedroom time would be the perfect comedown after the exhilaration of creating this strategy.
She found her phone beneath a pile of brochures from other tool manufacturers, all of which unashamedly targeted heterosexual men, with their half-naked photos of long-haired women in plaid shirts tied at the stomach and denim micro-shorts… She was ashamed to admit that she’d stared at some of those photographs for far too long.
Rosie stuck out her bottom lip when she saw there was no caller ID. She briefly considered ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of her, and she hit accept and speaker. “Hello?”
“Is this Rosie?”
The brusque and impatient male voice was unfamiliar. “Yes. Who’s this?” she asked.
“My name’s Keith. I’ve been sleeping with your mom.”
Rosie’s ensuing snort lodged in the back of her throat, and she coughed violently. That was information she didn’t need spelled out. Ever. Partner. Friend. So many other options he could have—and should have—chosen.
“She’s dead.”
Rosie stared at the phone, and the world went soundless and dark like she’d been submerged in tar. She couldn’t have heard that correctly.
“You still there?” Keith’s abrupt voice pushed through the sticky silence. “She’s dead. Your mom. Did you hear me?”
Rosie pulled the phone closer and leaned down to it. “Mom’sdead?”
“What, are you deaf? Yeah, she’s dead.”
“How?” Autopilot kicked in when she couldn’t properly process his words.
“Heart attack, I guess. We were in Tijuana. She’s at the Hospital del Carmen. You need to come get her and do whatever it is you’re supposed do with dead bodies. I don’t do that stuff.”
