“Sunny, hi.”
She’s dressed in yoga wear but looks like she’s going to and not coming from class. Behind her is another woman, also looking like she’s ready for sun salutations, but in an edgier version of Sunny’s outfit, with her midriff bared, fabulous boobs proudly displayed, and leggings that look distressed on purpose.
“Oh, Gemma, this place is so lovely.” Sunny holds out her arms and breathes in deeply. It’s the same thing I’ve done almost every morning since waking up in this life.
“Three hundred square feet, am I right?” The woman behind Sunny steps forward. “Great natural light. Ambience is everything. Not too much product on display, so your shelves aren’t cluttered, but customers can still self-serve. Definitely a must. What do you pull in on an average month? Two hundred? Three hundred? No, there’s no way. Well, maybe during a peak period. The foot traffic is decent.”
I’m not entirely sure if this woman is talking to herself or Sunny or me. Sunny makes a point of letting me see her roll her eyes as she grabs her friend by the shoulders and turns her to face me.
“Gemma, this is my dear friend Priya.”
Priya holds out her hand and shakes mine with a firm pump. “I assume you lease? Do you store your inventory here? If so, how much? Or are your suppliers reliable enough that you can order on demand?”
Again, Priya doesn’t wait for me to answer. Something on the far wall catches her eye, and she wanders off before I can ask why I’m being interrogated.
“She’s an old friend of mine from medical school,” Sunny answers, sensing my many questions. “Although she abandoned me after our first year.”
Priya turns, jumping back into the conversation. “I wasn’t destined to be a doctor. It took me a brutal year to figure out I’m grossed out by sick people and lack any sort of bedside manner, or at least Sunny thinks so.”
If I was confused before, I’m even more confused now.
“Well, my brutally honest assessment of your skills gave you the push you needed to jump from the nest and follow your dreams, which is part of the reason we’re here today, Gemma, other than that I’ve meant to stop by and haven’t had a day off to do it.”
Sunny turns her attention to Priya, who is now walking the length of my store in long, even strides as if she’s measuring. I look to Kierst to see if she’s following any better than I am. She meets my gaze with a subtle shrug.
I turn my attention back to Priya, who looks up, then walks purposefully back over to where Sunny and I are standing, pulling something from her purse.
“I would like to talk.” She hands me a white business card. Her full name—Priya Bhavani—and the words Spa Dérive, along with an address, are scrawled on the front. I know the place. It’s a bougie spa in downtown Toronto. I think there’s even a second one in Oakville. Their shtick is that they are a European-style bathhouse, modernized for the millennial. A second glance at the card has me noting Priya’s title: owner and CEO.
“Priya’s opening three new spas over the next few years,” Sunny explains. “She’s visiting to check out this neighborhood as a possible location.”
“And I’m looking for someone reliable with the same brand vibe to lease a small retail space in my spa. I have zero interest in all of this skincare crap—no offense, Gemma—but I need someone who obsesses over all of the details, and judging by this place, I think you’d be a good fit.”
I hear her words.
They process.
I get the gist of what she’s saying to me, yet I feel like I still need to clarify.
“You want me to help set up your retail space?”
She crosses her arms, pinning me with her frank brown eyes. “I want Wilde Beauty. This—” She waves her hand in an erratic circle. “I want this in my spas. Potentially. No official offer on the table yet, obviously. We still need to talk business. Are you free to come visit the Toronto office tomorrow?”
I nod because I am free, or at least I could close for the afternoon and be free. “I think I can make tomorrow happen,” I tell her, still not entirely sure what I’m signing up to do.
“Excellent.” She nods once curtly. “Now, you’ll have to excuse us. I have a class in thirty minutes and I cannot stand being late.” With that, she thrusts out her hand, we repeat the firm handshake business from earlier, and she turns on her heel, the door chiming behind her before I can fully absorb what has happened.