When Staci Takes Charge (Leave Your Shoes On 2)

They’d suffered enough during the recent assembly and shipping crisis, inadvertently brought on by Lola’s sexy ad campaign.

The increase in sales had created a huge supply-versus-demand dilemma that had wreaked havoc on the company. Things had turned around since then, and they’d amped up production, a vital undertaking for the company. Yet critical for Staci Kay Shoes’ survival was the need for additional facilities. The issue was the current bane of Staci’s existence, given the sudden scarcity of commercial real estate in Baltimore.

It sapped some of the wind from her sails following Saturday night’s unveiling, her early morning sexfest with “Nick,” and the incredible reviews the six-inch stilettos were receiving.

We’re on the cusp of greatness.

She believed it to the core of her being.

I just need all the pieces of the puzzle to fall into place.

Maxi stepped in and said, “When it comes to locating an appropriate warehouse for us, think in the same terms Staci did when we were in crisis mode and had to find a supplemental building in which to operate ASAP.”

“Absolutely,” Staci concurred as she paced alongside the conference table where her top brass was assembled for the weekly session. “Tap those golden databases of yours. Contact friends, relatives, friends of friends, relatives of relatives, anybody, and everybody to see what might be coming on the market that we can buy or rent. We’re not seeing enough opportunity through public listings right now, so we need to know who’s holding out for a private sale.”

Maxi nodded. “We’ll take every lead we can get so that we don’t end up with another production bottleneck down the road.”

“Securing a second facility is just one more thing that will solidify our sustainability in this industry,” Staci said. “Thank you, everyone. Have a good evening.”

Staci adjourned the meeting, and the group dispersed. Maxi collected the leftover packets of documentation that contained charts and graphs Ryan had assembled. Staci closed her notebook and capped her pen as Maxi kicked off her heels and plopped into a chair.

The VP said, “I wish like hell I knew of someone looking to lease or unload a building suitable for our needs.” She crossed her long legs, rotating her ankle as though it ached.

“Something will turn up.” Staci eyed the woman who was one of her highest ranking execs. She frowned as Maxi continued to work the kinks in her ankle. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately. In fact, you were limping just a tiny bit earlier. You didn’t actually hurt yourself on the runway and were afraid to tell me?”

“Absolutely not. It’s nothing to worry about,” Maxi assured her.

“Yeah, right. Spill already,” Staci ordered.

They’d been through thick and thin together. Maxi had been one of Staci’s first employees when she’d established operations six years ago. They’d been sorority sisters at the University of Baltimore. At twenty-seven, Staci was two years older than Maxi, who had joined the startup company in her sophomore term.

Staci had studied fashion design, and she loved everything bold and daring, be it contemporary flare, avant-garde chic, retro panache, or vintage fun. Creating her own business had been a natural progression for her, and she’d been grateful that the talented Maxi Shayne had jumped on her bandwagon.

“Come on, girlfriend,” Staci coaxed. “This is me you’re talking to.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Maxi explained. “Just that we’ve all been nonstop action since the crisis hit in December, and I’ve recently realized that I’m not used to working ten- to twelve-hour days in five- or six-inch heels. Even if I am sitting in meetings or behind my desk most of the time.”

“That’s completely understandable. However,” Staci said with a pointed look, “we do have a line of gorgeous flats to choose from.”

“Yes,” Maxi agreed. “But I’m a tall-heel girl, like you. I like the altitude they give me. And the fact that they drive Ryan nuts in the absolute best way, so…” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m perfectly willing to suck it up.”

“Maxi,” Staci gently scolded her, “loving the shoes is no reason to be in pain all day.”

“Ah, but Stace…” she said on a dreamy sigh. “Ryan gives me foot massages at night that are pretty much to die for. He might stop offering if I begin wearing sensible flats.”

Staci laughed softly. “You will do anything to get that man’s hands on your body.”

“You’ve got that right, sister.”

“Still…” The corner of Staci’s mouth dipped. “This is a serious consideration.”

“Kev the evil ex used to say ‘Beauty is pain.’ My motto is that he was the real pain in my life.”

“So glad you came to your senses with that one. Total asshole.”

“Lying, cheating asshole,” Maxi corrected. “I certainly kissed my fair share of toads before I found the right man.”

Staci nodded. “You and Ryan are fantastic together.”