Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

“Did you and Sven do that a lot?”

“Ask him,” she blurted, only to realize Griffith probably would, leading to more humiliation, which she didn’t need. “We did it a few times. It was nice.”

“But not nice enough. Do you enjoy having your clitoris touched?”

She stood. “We’re done.”

He rose. “We can’t be. Kelly, sex is important. Not just because it feels good, but because it makes it easier for us to bond as a couple. There are chemicals released during orgasm. We need them to make this work.”

“Holy crap, how much reading did you do?”

“A lot. Is it the word? Clitoris? Is clit better?”

She sank back on the chair and rested her arms on the desk, then put her head on her arms. “I hate you.”

“You hate a lot of people. So it’s not the word?”

“No. Call it what you want. Touching it is fine.” Sometimes it was better than fine. Sometimes she thought that maybe she was going to get there, but then something happened and she didn’t. “Oral sex is fine. All of it is totally fine.” She raised her head and looked at him. “Can we be done, please?”

He pulled her to her feet and kissed her. “We can be done talking about it for today, but aren’t even close to finished with the subject.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

*

Olivia had no idea what to expect with her meeting with Sally. The first time she and the quilt lady, as Olivia had come to think of her, had met, Olivia had gone over her booth space, explained what she thought the problem was, and had offered a couple of solutions. She’d been careful to talk about how wonderful the quilts were, how they weren’t getting the attention they deserved and that she thought Sally would be selling a lot more with a different layout. Then she’d waited.

Sally had listened, thanked her and that had been that. Eight minutes of Olivia talking with virtually no response. She had no idea if Sally had been happy, offended or suffering from indigestion, so not actually listening.

She’d meant to sweat the problem for several days, only Marilee had blown into town and dropped the “why yes, Olivia and I do spend a lot of time together” bombshell, and all other issues had been forgotten. Until Olivia had received an email from Sally requesting a second meeting. That was it—just a date and time with no hint as to what the meeting was about.

Olivia dressed carefully in a sleeveless print dress that wasn’t too short or low-cut. She added a short-sleeved shrug and low heels, then grabbed her briefcase and left the house.

It took her less than ten minutes to get to the craft mall. She was early so decided to walk around the booths. She took notes as she went, on the off chance that Sally had liked her advice and would give her name to other vendors. At five minutes to two, she went back to the mall entrance and found Sally waiting for her, along with another, slightly younger woman.

“This is Hannah,” Sally told her. “She has two antiques booths in the mall. What do you think of the name Garden Variety?”

Olivia shook hands with the pretty brunette, then turned back to Sally. “For the craft mall?”

Sally nodded.

“I like it. I think The Dutch Bunch is cute and catchy, but the range of items sold isn’t very specific. I’m concerned customers would expect a lot more Dutch and tulip-based inventory and be disappointed.”

Sally and Hannah exchanged a look that Olivia couldn’t read.

“I took your advice,” Sally told her. “I rearranged my booth, took out most of the quilts, displayed the ones left and used the book of photographs, along with another book of sample quilting techniques.” She grinned. “I’ve sold eight quilts in the past three days and I have five special orders that people want for the holidays. It’s more than I’ve sold in any single month except December.”

“Me, too,” Hannah added, then laughed. “You gave Sally suggestions for one of my booths. I did what you said and I’ve doubled my sales.”

Olivia’s vague sense of apprehension faded. “I’m glad I could help.”

“We appreciate your suggestions,” Sally said. “For most of us, the booths are a second business, but we still have to make money. A couple of them are run by stay-at-home moms and they need all the help they can get. Hannah and I think you should offer to consult with all the booth owners. They probably don’t have the money to pay you up front, but you could collect a percentage of the increased sales.”

“A sliding percentage,” Hannah added. “Say forty percent the first month, thirty the second, twenty the third. That’s what I plan to pay you.”

Olivia held up both hands. “I didn’t ask to be paid. I was trying to help.” To be useful and feel as if she belonged somewhere, she thought, careful not to say that. The nice women saying such lovely things about her didn’t want to know how needy she was.

“Even so, it’s only right.” Hannah looked determined. “Can you draw up some kind of agreement? Nothing fancy—just a page spelling out the terms?”

“Of course. I’ll do that tonight.”

“Good.” Sally smiled. “We’ll speak with the other booth owners and get you their contact information. A few of them are old-fashioned and won’t want to listen, but some will. I think after a few months, everyone is going to want your advice.”

Wouldn’t that be nice, Olivia thought. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

Sally and Hannah exchanged another look. “There’s one other thing,” Sally told her. “A few of us on the tourism board think we need a manager for the craft mall. Someone to make sure the rules are followed and to help with the marketing. Tourists should know about us and they don’t. There’s not a lot of money in the budget, but we should be able to afford someone part-time. I doubt the job would be more than a few hours a week. If you’re interested, I’d like to take the idea to the committee.”

Olivia did her best to keep from shrieking. “You’re offering me a job?” she confirmed.

“Yes,” Hannah said. “Maybe with you in charge, we can stop changing the name every few months. I love Vista Print but I don’t need to be ordering new business cards every two months because we can’t decide on a name.”

“I’d be interested,” Olivia told her. “Very much so.” Talk about motivation to make the auction even more successful. A few of the extra dollars could go toward her salary, which would be very exciting.

She smiled at Sally. “I had no idea what you were thinking after our last meeting. I was afraid I’d insulted you and that you would be looking for someone else to run the fund-raiser.”

Sally laughed. “I’ll admit I was shocked by what you told me,” she admitted. “I’ve had a booth here for years and I thought I was doing really well. At first I told myself you had no idea what you were talking about, but after a while I started to think about your suggestions. I gave it a weekend, just to prove you wrong. Then I found out it was me all along.”