Jessie sniffled. “Enough to scare the life out of me. She called it predator-prey. They cage men then release them to hunt women and beat each other up to claim the one they want.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “They have sex in front of everyone. Some of the men are knocked out, some bleeding. Only when every woman has been claimed, as they call it, can the game end.”
I blinked. “Girl, what?”
“Right? That was my reaction. My point is, I’m so different to my sister, and that plus last night’s disaster made me realise I need to stop following her footsteps. Thanks again for helping me see it before something terrible happened.”
I mumbled a response, and Jessie hung up. On autopilot, I got off the bus at my stop, my mind whirling over the startling game.
It sounded violent. Firey. The people who entered it would have big opinions and tempers, no doubt.
People like me.
But I was at my destination, and I needed to put all thoughts of hard-won sex out of my head. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into Crowley’s Department Store and donned my sunniest smile.
The lift took me to the fourth floor.
It opened to a brilliant white space. Racks of pretty bras met my critical gaze, priced at a level I could never afford, and I could just see it. A space where mine would shine amongst the others. My designer label, my colour schemes with the satin and silk I’d sourced.
Coming here had waves of imposter syndrome rising in me, but not when I saw their products. Not when I suspected how a pretty underwire bra they had on prime display would cut into a buyer’s skin after an hour of wear. I knew how to avoid that. I knew great design. It was just the sales part I wobbled over.
There was no one at the customer service desk, so I wandered the aisles for a while until a voice commanded my attention.
“Can I help you?” A staff member looked me up and down, lingering on the samples bag in my hand.
I gripped the handle, readying the words I’d rehearsed. “I come bearing bras. I’d like to?—”
She cut over me. “Returns are only possible with a receipt.”
I kept my smile locked in place. “I understand, but that’s not why I’m here. Is it possible to speak to a manager? Or someone with purchasing power?”
An eyebrow rose. The staff member was probably my age but glossy in a way I could only dream of. Perfect lip filler. Her dye-job immaculate. Probably a requirement of working here.
“We have no vacancies currently,” she clipped.
“I don’t want a job either. Just ten minutes of your manager’s time. Please.”
She twisted those perfect lips but lifted the phone I hadn’t noticed in her hand. “Take a seat, Miss…?”
“Bonnie Braveheart.”
She stared.
“That really is my name.” Even if it sounded like an exotic dancer’s stage name, I was proud of it.
“Okay, Miss Braveheart. I’ll fetch my manager. Don’t go anywhere.” She pointed a nicely manicured finger at a padded bench behind me.
I settled with my bag in my lap and twisted my fingers in the handles. There was no space for nerves. I had one shot at making a good impression, and I’d do it if it killed me.
Chapter 3
Elijah
I jogged up Crowley’s ornate staircase, discreetly snooping through the different floors. On principle, I never made a business decision without putting the legwork in myself, and this store was bleeding money.
I liked the bones of it, though. The history.
Besides checking out Crowley’s and its chain of high-end boutiques, I had three days in Deadwater and a list of opportunities and acquisitions to explore both in the city and further afield.
I should’ve been buzzing with the freedom to be out of the boardroom. Except ‘bored’ had followed me.