“I like the sound of that,” Ryan says with approval in his tone. “Additional revenue streams are always good. We’d have to lease warehouse space for inventory, shipping, and receiving, though, because you’re already at capacity in the current building.”
Right now, we have a half dozen storage units where we stash the stuff that’s waiting to go in the store, but we’ve outgrown those too. Ryan’s right.
“I’ve been thinking about that. It’s time. Initially, I didn’t want employees at a secondary location, because I didn’t want them to feel like they weren’t part of the team, but I don’t see a way around it. It’s not like we can add more space here.”
“Manhattan ... where square-footage nightmares are made of,” Christine says with a hint of biting humor. Although she was raised here, when their father retired to California, Christine moved to LA so she could be near him, just in case. Given the sharp edges of her personality, one wouldn’t think she’d worry so much about her father, but she’s doggedly protective of anyone she claims as her people.
Ryan jumps in, as I’d expect, since this is more his area than Christine’s or mine. “I’ll make some calls and find out what our options are. What’s your timeline on releasing the stationery line?”
I want to say,Considering I only said it out loud for the first time a half hour ago, I haven’t really thought this through.But I don’t, because Christine will make me think about it for a year before she lets me pull the trigger.
“Thanksgiving. I want to make sure everyone has their Curated stationery supplies in time for holiday shopping.”
“I like it,” Christine says, shocking me.
“Really?”
“Yes, but I’m only agreeing because you’re going to fight me on the next thing. I refuse to take no for an answer, so I’ll say yes now and we can skip the argument.”
“What?” Confusion underlies my question, but Christine doesn’t elaborate.
“Just say yes. I already paid for it with your money, so technicallyyoualready paid for it. Resistance is futile.”
“Chris, I thought we discussed that you were going to encourage her, not beat her into submission,” Ryan says, trying to reason with his hardheaded sister about something that I’m completely in the dark about, and it’s not a feeling I enjoy.
I sit up straighter, preparing myself for whatever is coming. “Could someone just tell me what the hell we’re talking about right now? You’re starting to freak me out.”
“Scarlett, you know we both care about you and your safety,” Ryan says, his tone calming and reasonable.
But then Christine interrupts. “You’re taking real self-defense training, and I don’t give a shit whether you want to or not. Ryan showed me the comments on your social media posts. You’ve got three trolls that creep me the fuck out, and since you flat-out refuse to increase security and you don’t want to carry a gun, you have to learn to defend yourself. Unless, you know, you want to end up tied up in a hole in some crazy fucker’s basement where he makes youput the lotion on the skin.”
My heart seizes, and I choke out a cough.
“I told you to handle this delicately, Chris.Silence of the Lambsisn’t delicate.”
Ryan and his sister trade swipes at each other while my brain shifts into overdrive.
The trolls. Oh my God. How could I forget about the trolls? That’s who I thought had taken me when I woke up in the rug. How the hell could I forget about them?
Oh, that’s right. I was worried aboutactuallygetting kidnapped, while the trolls are still nameless, faceless ass-clowns who haven’t actually done anything more than leave nasty comments on the daily to let me know all the sick and twisted things they would do to me if they could.
A shiver rips through me as I remember some of the comments they’ve made.
You should fucking kill yourself for being so fake.
You’re a whore, and I know exactly how to treat a whore.
Your family is a fat-ass big pharma pig living off the sick. You all deserve to die like your mom.
We’ve screenshotted every comment, taken photos of the dummy accounts they came from, and handed them over to the NYPD, as well as notifying the FBI.
According to the authorities, there’s nothing they can do about it unless or until it escalates. Christine insisted on hiring someone to look into it, and they’ve only come up with dead ends so far. The account disappears, and a similar comment comes another day from a different account.
It’s hard to know if it’s the same person every time or if I have multiple haters who wish horrible things on me. Either way, it’s not a good feeling. Especially when it makes getting kidnapped by Bump and brought to Gabriel Legend appear like a best-case scenario. Things could have been so much worse. Because that is seriouslynot normal.
The memory of the bone-deep fear and desperation I felt while wrapped up in that rug comes back threefold when I think about one of those sickos waiting for me to wake up.
I never want to feel helpless like that again.