The prices were reasonable here. So much more so than the department stores Liza
was accustomed to or even mail-order catalogs.
“If discretion has become a problem,” she continued on, “There are ways around
that.”
Ginger’s face lit up again, chasing away some of the embarrassment and dismay.
“Like how?”
“Well, a website for one thing.”
She instantly frowned. “Oh well. I don’t know anything about that. And wouldn’t
that just be one more expense I couldn’t manage?”
“Not necessarily. There are plenty of ways to run a virtual store. Economical ways.
And the best part is that your customers can submit their orders online and you can
ship them directly to their home in discreet packaging. No one would know the
purchase had come from your store. Plus,” Liza added, her brain kicking into high gear.
“You could charge a small handling rate—add it to the shipping cost—that would help
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to offset the costs of maintaining the website. Charge a service fee for delivering the goods personally at the customers’ preferred time and place, if they’re inclined. A
personal touch they might appreciate.”
Liza’s mind churned with all sorts of possibilities to salvage Ginger’s business and
the shop owner clearly wanted to hear every idea, if her eager gaze were any indication.
“If push comes to shove and you absolutely have to forfeit the building,” Liza
continued, “you could still operate your business, just as a virtual store rather than a bricks and mortar one. Sans inflated rent and busybodies who don’t want to see your
product on public display.”
Ginger got the point. “I do hate arguing with Mrs. Bain. Every Saturday and
Sunday,” she said as she rolled her eyes.
Liza couldn’t help but laugh. “I assure you. Lydia Bain would have no power over
your online sales.”
She smiled, her green eyes glowing bright. “I wouldn’t lose everything if I did
that.”
“You’re forgetting the most important part,” Liza said. “The Internet is global. Your store here caters to the residents of Wilder and whatever tourists you get. An online store reaches every country on every continent. Everyone looking for beautiful, sexy
lingerie at a price that makes them want to buy five of everything.”
She clasped her hands together, excited by the prospect. “I never thought of that at
all. Oh my gosh. I could have women in….Georgia…ordering from me.”
“Georgia, Asia,” Liza pointed out.
“Oh!” The saucers that were her eyes said she saw the big picture Liza had painted.
“That’s a whole new world of opportunity!”
“Indeed.” Liza grinned as she handed over a credit card.
“Well, I just feel so bad about taking your money now. After all the help you’ve
given me.”
“You still have rent to pay this month.”
“Yes, there is that.” She took the platinum card, albeit reluctantly. “Can I at least buy you lunch sometime?”
The invitation was unexpected, yet so sweet and genuine, Liza felt the tears well up
in her own eyes. Surprisingly. “That’s not necessary, really.”
“Oh I insist. Besides, I want to hear all about you. All we’ve done is talk about me.”
Liza was overwhelmed by her sincerity, to say the least. “I’d love to have lunch
with you, Ginger.” She jotted down her cell number on a pad of Post-It notes Ginger
kept next to the register. “Call me anytime.”
“How about Monday afternoon?” she said, her enthusiasm evident.
Liza smiled. “Works for me.”
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“Great. You being from New York and all, I know this perfect little Italian place.
Very authentic. Pietro’s.”
“Sounds right up my alley.”
“Thanks so much, Liza. I guess I never really thought that I had alternatives. And I
just couldn’t imagine what I was going to do with all this inventory when I was forced out of the building.”
“Well, you’re not out yet. You might want to consider a buy-one-get-a-second-half-
off sale to bring in the customers. And some sexier window displays than what you’ve
got. Why not advertise a little more? Entice passersby with some paired pieces so they can see an entire ensemble and walk right in and ask for it in their size.”
“I do need to get more creative, don’t I?”
And a bit bolder. Show Lydia Bain she doesn’t own the street.
“Everybody has alternatives,” Liza assured Ginger as she collected her credit card
and bag and turned to go.
“Monday, then?”
“You bet.” Liza was even looking forward to it.
As she left Ginger’s boutique and walked down the street toward the general
direction of her car, she passed a quaint, burgundy awning-topped shop screaming the
logo she’d been desperate to see the past few days. Cut-N-Color.
Hallelujah!
Grinning, Liza pushed open the glass door encased in white-washed wood and
stepped into the large foyer that boasted full shelves of hair products. Her own personal heaven! She scanned the glass shelves for her favorite brand while voices from the back room drifted her way. She was ensconced in a small hallway as her eyes skimmed the
labels. But she wasn’t so far removed that she couldn’t hear the conversation coming
from the salon.
“I just ran right into Jack’s truck,” she heard a familiar voice say, and her ears
instantly perked up.
Lydia Bain.
“I was so mortified,” she continued on. “Things just don’t distract me so that I can’t drive.”
“Ginger should know better than to put that kind of trash out on the sidewalk.” A
different voice said. “What was that girl thinking?”
Liza’s temper flared again, but she tried to think strategically, rather than act
impulsively.
The contingent agreed with Lydia and her friend. Liza lingered inside the foyer, her
eyes on the shampoo bottles that were neatly arranged on the display as she debated
her course of action.
“And she was with him,” Lydia continued on.
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Liza’s brows jerked upward.
“The one Teddy said he saw at Jack’s saloon last night?” Another woman inquired
in a high-pitched voice.
“The very one,” Lydia confirmed.
“Do you know Teddy said she was wearing green snakeskin high heels? Who owns
shoes like that, I ask you?”