take the comment in the spirit it had been meant.
It was time to turn the conversation to something more solid—something she couldn’t put her foot in. ‘What exactly has Jennie told you so far?’ she said.
‘Not much. I don’t know what’s got into her lately—she’s been disappearing for hours at a time and being very mysterious. It’s more than I can manage to get any sense out of her.’
There was a gentle huff and Alice smiled, knowing how infuriating her own siblings could be.
‘She phoned me up and yabbered away at me about a ball and jazz bands and a show-stopping highlight to the evening.’ Cameron said in a dry tone. ‘I got the impression that bit had something to do with you. Jennie tells me you’re some kind of fashion guru these days?’
She’d just been about to perch herself on one of the high stools by the breakfast bar, and she almost burst out laughing and very nearly missed plonking her bottom on the seat of the stool. Alice Morton a fashion guru? Hah!
She almost said as much, but an image of a scowling Coreen flashed across her mind and she quickly changed tack. She was supposed to be inspiring confidence in her abilities as a vintage fashion retailer, not ridiculing her new choice of career. The PR this job would generate for Coreen’s Closet could be priceless.
‘I see what you mean about Jennie being sketchy with the details,’ she said, and then proceeded to give him a potted history of Coreen’s Closet. When she’d finished he didn’t say anything for a few seconds.
His voice held a hint of surprise when he answered. ‘I would never have guessed you would have chosen that as a profession.’
Alice opened her mouth to tell him about the IT work, then closed it again. She kind of liked the fact she’d surprised him, and she decided she wasn’t about to kill the first little hint of mystery anyone had ever held about her. She was going to enjoy this while it lasted.
‘Well, I think if you love something you should pursue it, no matter the cost.’
That was her new motto. Starting right now. No more distractions. She was going to stop moping about Paul and throw herself into her work. At least with the vintage clothes business it was work she actually liked.
‘My thoughts exactly.’
Just for a split second Alice sensed a common bond, a feeling she and Cameron were both wired the same way. The sensation was so strong she wondered if he felt it too. This was how it had been when they’d been younger. Even though he’d been nearly six years older than her, they’d just clicked.
‘So, this is what we envisage for the launch party…’
Alice had been folding and unfolding the corner of a takeaway menu, and now she flattened it with her free hand and tucked it between the salt and pepper shakers, removing the distraction.
Jennie had told Coreen of her plans for a lavish ball to celebrate the opening of Cameron’s new premises—the fact that the building was ‘old’ and ‘a bit different’ was all Alice had been able to get out of her. Jennie had been struggling to come up with something to set the evening apart, something that encapsulated the idea of new and old coming together, and then she’d overheard Coreen and Alice’s conversation about the market fashion shows and she’d made a connection.
Cameron wanted something that spoke of class, success, elegance. And what could pull all these things together better than a unique charity fashion show, full of the glamour and romance of a bygone age, but showing how vintage clothes could add individuality and style to a twenty-first century wardrobe? And if they sold the idea to Cameron, Coreen’s Closet were going to supply and source the clothes. Alice explained all of this to him, and as she talked she forgot she was selling a business idea and just rambled on about the glorious clothes, the icons of yesteryear, and how everyone who attended it would feel as if they’d stepped back into a magical time.
Cameron listened. He said ‘mmm-hmm’ and ‘okay’ quite a few times as she outlined the plan to auction the clothes off as the show progressed. But she knew that they weren’t the normal noises of a man who was pretending he was listening when he was really thinking about last night’s game. She knew he was taking it all in, capturing every detail with his quick mind and mentally sorting it all.
‘I presume, from what you’ve told me about the history of your new business venture, that you and your partner aren’t just going to be giving the clothes away? How does the charity angle work?’
‘I wish we could give them away. However, we’ve worked out a plan with Jennie. We’d set very reasonable reserve prices on all the pieces—similar to what we’d get if we were selling them one-by-one on the stall. As each piece is auctioned off we’ll keep the reserve price, and anything that is bid over that will go to charity.’
‘What if the reserve isn’t met—or all the clothes only just reach the set figure?’
‘Jennie suggested my business partner, Coreen, should be the auctioneer. She’s extremely knowledgeable, and believe me, she could sell mink coats to…well, minks.’
A loud and unexpected snort of a laugh erupted from the earpiece of the phone.
‘Alice,’ he said, his tone still full of warm laughter, ‘you always did have a very singular way of looking at things.’
Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Had she just blown it?
‘With Coreen doing the talking you’ll have more than enough to donate to charity, I promise.’
‘If this Coreen is anything like you say she is, I don’t doubt it.’
‘And Jennie said you’d put in a hefty donation yourself.’
‘Did she, now?’
Alice winced. ‘Yes.’
Coreen’s Closet could handle giving the extra money to one of the local children’s charities because they’d be shifting a whole lot of stock in one go—and, even better, they’d be attracting the attention of a lot of well-to-do potential customers. The free publicity would be fantastic. With the extra money in their account, and the press coverage, she and Coreen might just be able to twist the arm of their business manager at the bank to give them a loan for the rest of the capital needed to lease and outfit a small shop.
‘If we do this right, this won’t just be another party—same drinks, same faces, same canapés. It will be something truly memorable. Each piece of vintage clothing we sell is unique, one of a kind. For those that buy at the auction, every time they wear that jacket or carry that handbag they’ll remember your company and think one of a kind. Even those that don’t buy anything will have their memories jogged when they turn on the TV and catch an old movie, or see a poster in a shop display. They’ll be instantly transported back to the elegant and original night when you opened your new offices and your company started a new chapter in its history. And that’s what you want, isn’t it? For the event to be distinctive, because then it will be remembered.’
Alice had now run out of words, and she had the sense that adding to them with empty silence-fillers would just be a mistake. So she closed her mouth and stared out of the kitchen window into the dark evening sky, waiting for Cameron’s response.
Suddenly his good opinion—of her, of her
