‘Why do we even need those people?’ Quinn asked. ‘No, not to be offensive, but can’t we just rally the community together?’
Ivy took her phone out of her pocket and began typing away.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Just bought a megaphone. It will arrive at my apartment tomorrow.’
‘We might protest.’
‘Something like that,’ Ivy mused. ‘Do you have Instagram?’
‘I do, but I don’t think now is the time to?—’
‘You need to do an appeal.’
‘An appeal?’
Ivy got to her feet; her eyes were wide. ‘Oh, this is going to be perfect. Right, where is the best lighting? Ah, here! Sit in this armchair, and this lamp, oh howglorious.’
Quinn looked at her standing by the chair. ‘I don’t get what you’re doing.’
‘Do you have a social media marketing team?’
‘No.’
‘I took a course once,’ Ivy said. ‘I like to learn things, and being a boss babe entrepreneur, I had to better myself, so I know what I’m doing. Now, sit here and let me film you. Do we want to do a live, a reel?’
‘You did not just say boss babe.’
‘Do we want to do a live or a reel?’ Ivy repeated.
‘I … don’t know what any of this is.’ Quinn admitted, heading to the chair.
He sat down, and she turned the lamp on, angling it towards him. He squinted, and she smiled. ‘Get used to it, movie star. We need to get you doing as many of these as possible.’
‘I don’t know what I’m meant to say. Shouldn’t I have a script?’
Ivy finished her banana and headed back to the kitchen, where she dropped the skin into the bin. She sipped her coffee as she walked towards him again. ‘No, just be you. Natural. Maybe we can mention your dad? Can I use your phone? We can film it straight in Insta.’
‘I don’t think I can do this.’
He wanted to kick himself. There was an urge within him to say what he believed to be true, but whenever it got to actually speaking, he couldn’t do it.
Ivy removed a ring.
‘What are you doing?’
She handed him the ring with a polished violet stone. ‘This is tanzanite. It will help with your throat chakra.’
‘Ivy…’
‘No, Quinn, it’s yours.’ Ivy held her hands away, as if the ring never fit her. ‘It will help you open up about your truth. It will help with your self-expression.’
Quinn looked at the stone, the silver band. He slipped it over a finger, surprised it fit. Ivy let out a little gasp, as if he was Cinderella fitting into the lost slipper.
Quinn unlocked his phone and handed it to Ivy. ‘Use the bookshop account rather than my own.’
‘Yeah, ’course,’ Ivy said. ‘Okay, so just talk about what’s happening and what people can do to help, and we can go from there.’
