Lingerie Wars (Invertary 1)

Rainne didn’t have an answer for that. She didn’t know what to do with herself, either. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I shouldn’t be giving you advice,” he said. “I’m invested. I want you to stay here. With me. And part of me thinks that if I tell you to do it with enough force, then you might stay.” He sighed again. “But I don’t want you to stay because I tell you to stay. I want you to be here because this is your choice.”

Rainne swallowed hard. It didn’t make any sense that he could be so certain about what he wanted out of life and she didn’t have a clue.

“I’ll try harder,” she said.

“Oh Rainbow,” he said with a shake of his head.

He cupped her cheek and kissed her gently.

“I’ll get pudding,” he said as he gathered the dishes. “I need to learn to make something else. This curry stinks.”

As he disappeared downstairs, Rainne tried to figure out what to do. She’d spent a lifetime pleasing her parents, and that was a hard habit to break. Plus, as Lake kept pointing out to her, she had no skills for the real world. All she knew how to do were the things she’d grown up doing—fighting for her parents’ causes. She had to find out if Lake meant to stay on, or if she was ever going to get a chance to run the shop. Her stomach clenched at the thought. She worried that it was just a matter of time before she was back in the same boat as Lake had found her three months earlier—running the business into the ground while waiting for him to turn up and sort it out.

Kirsty was astonished at how quickly her new Scotland-themed collection was coming along. Her mother’s friends really knew how to sew. Although they had insisted that they needed new T-shirts to sew in. They were all now proudly wearing ones that said SOD-OFF while they worked. It was only a few days to the show and it looked like she would actually have a collection to present. Which was fantastic, as the town was buzzing with people. There were even photographers from magazines and newspapers, lured there by the “InverTARTY” headlines and the fact that Kirsty Campbell had come out of hiding.

It was a lot to live up to—especially since she was still two models down and no closer to finding replacements.

“Come on, Magenta,” she tried again. “If we scrub off your makeup no one will recognise you anyway.”

“I am not parading around in my knickers for anyone,” Magenta told her. “Not even you. Plus it’s freezing out there. Bits could fall off it’s so cold. I don’t want to risk it. I like my bits.”

Magenta had a point. Kirsty needed to figure out a way to keep the models she did have warm. An idea flickered in the back of her head.

“Fine,” she said. “If you won’t model, will you run around town getting as many fur coats as you can rustle up?”

Magenta stared at her, black bob falling across one eye.

“Is this punishment for not doing what you want?” she said as her eyes narrowed. “Because if you’re going to make up things for me to do, running around town asking folk for coats is a bit pathetic.”

“No, it’s not punishment. I need them for the show,” Kirsty said. “To keep the models warm.”

“In that case, it’s my pleasure. While we’re on the topic of getting your kit off in public, why don’t you model? It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”

Kirsty shook her head.

“I can’t, I have a show to organise.” She was surprised to hear that was her main concern, rather than hiding her scars. “Go,” she told Magenta. “I’ll mind the shop.”

They actually had customers for a change as the tourists wandered in from the market. The posters around town advertising the fashion show were helping too. Unfortunately, they weren’t only helping her shop. As she looked over the road she could see that Lake’s shop was doing well too. At this rate, she’d never win the war. And she definitely didn’t have a hope if she only got to show eight outfits while Lake showed ten. She bit her lip as she tried to come up with a solution.

There weren’t any suitable women in Invertary—at least, none who were prepared to wear lingerie in public—but there was one thing she could try. She picked up the Christmas card from an old friend of hers and reread the message. It said: Working in Edinburgh, will try to come visit when I’m done. Prepare to party! Kirsty picked up her phone, but hesitated before she dialled. It was one thing expecting the local women to wear her designs, but quite another to ask her modelling friends. Especially seeing as she’d been less than sociable since her accident. She put the phone back down. It was a stupid idea. What made her think they would be able to come to Invertary at such short notice, let alone want to come? She would make a fool of herself asking these women to wear her stuff. Her little designs weren’t professional. She barely knew what she was doing. It was stupid.

She folded her arms and paced in front of her phone. If she ever wanted business, now was the time. There would be press. Free advertising. Not only would she get the joy of beating her soldier boy, but she had a real chance at making the shop a success. She chewed her lip. Professional models would make a massive difference. Her palms started to tingle and her heartbeat sped up. It meant dealing with the world she’d left behind. No. The world she’d been forced out of. She had to tell herself to breathe slowly. What if they said no? What if they said yes? This was going to drive her crazy!

She snatched up the phone and dialled, all the while hearing Lake’s voice in her head: You can do it. Fight me. Fight back.

“Hello,” she said. “Helena, it’s Kirsty.”

There was a whoop of joy on the other end of the line. Kirsty smiled as the tension seeped from her shoulders.

“I know you said you’d try to visit, but I was wondering if we could make it a definite thing. I was also wondering if you could get here by the weekend?” She sat on one of the kitchen stools. “I have a little problem,” she said. “I could really use some help.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The snow had stopped falling and, thanks to Caroline’s beautifully coordinated decorations, Invertary looked like something straight from a Christmas card. There were thick green garlands with red velvet bows wrapped around the lamp posts. Old-fashioned lanterns, which held real candles, hung from every shop eve. There were large tartan banners, and golden bells, and holly, and wonderful sparkling white lights strung across the street. Although the whole thing looked like fairyland in the dark, it was still beautiful in the soft morning light. Kirsty sighed contentedly as she looked out of her window onto the frosted white street.

Usually Kirsty had a stall in the market like everyone else, but this year there was too much to get done. For a while there, she honestly didn’t think she would make it. She smiled at the thought. She’d made it all right. Not only did she have her best collection yet, she had not one, but four professional models to wear it. Helena had mustered up some help, fought her way through the Highland weather and turned up to rescue her friend. Kirsty’s heart grew at the thought. She hadn’t known there were so many people who cared about her. As she waved at Dougal, who was setting up a stall with hot toddies and even hotter chips, the window above Lake’s shop opened and he stuck his head out. Kirsty’s whole body hummed with need at the sight of his wicked grin and mischievous blue eyes. She opened her window too.