The Way You Smile

by Kiki Archer

  Harriet nodded. “As is—”

  “Ladies, please!”

  “I’ll fill you in in a bit.” Harriet smiled. “Let’s get this right then we can go sit over there and discuss.”

  The idea of a personal tête-à-tête with the boss sounded wonderful, not only so she’d be able to know what the hell was going on, but also because Deana was now head down and working in one of the pods on the other side of the room. “You want me deadpan?”

  Harriet laughed. “Can you even do deadpan? I’ve never seen eyes as expressive.”

  “Really?”

  The woman sharply interrupted the connection. “You’ll be out of shot until you’re introduced.” She nodded. “And we’re filming.”

  Camila watched as Harriet returned her gaze to the camera, marvelling as she reeled off the same nonsense for the third time running but with as much enthusiasm as if it were her first.

  “She’s Camila Moore and she’s my new woman.”

  Camila continued to stare.

  “Camila, why don’t you introduce yourself?” Harriet was smiling. “Tell us your secrets.”

  Camila realised she was still gazing agog at Harriet. She spun to the camera. “Right, I’m Camila Moore… and I’m Harriet’s new woman.” That’s what the co-presenter did when they weren’t sure what was going on, they repeated. “And I’m so full of secrets.”

  Harriet nodded. “Are you really?”

  “I sure am,” said Camila with a ‘let’s go’ fist thrust in front of her body.

  “Well, don’t give them away just yet, we want to win this thing.”

  “We sure do,” said Camila, firmly adding her input even though she still had no clue what this thing was.

  Harriet focused back on the lens. “What I can tell you is this. Camila’s the puzzle piece we’ve been missing. The key to our box. The cherry on our bun.”

  “I’m more of an iced finger type woman if I’m being honest.” Camila had no clue where that joke had come from but there it was all the same.

  Harriet laughed. “As long as you’re not a fan of cream pie.”

  The shout was sharp. “Ladies! We’re stopping.”

  Harriet frowned. “That was good, wasn’t it?”

  “Just outline Camila’s role. Quickly. Come on, Harriet, you’re the one who asked us to come in this morning. We’ll keep rolling.”

  Harriet raised her hands contritely before continuing. “Camila here is sharp as a tack. A blue sky thinker. A real breath of fresh air. If anyone can invent an invention, this inventor’s the one.”

  Camila turned to camera, her deadpan expression suddenly spot-on.

  Chapter Ten

  “Okay, so questions,” said Harriet. “You must have lots.”

  “I have no clue what’s happening.” Camila was seated on a sofa in the open-plan area, watching as the film crew of two re-positioned themselves by the work pods. “I mean, I’m good at playing catch-up, I’ve been doing it my whole life and as far as I’m concerned imposter syndrome’s self-indulgent. You put me in front of that camera so you must think I’m worthy of being in front of that camera, so I did my stuff in front of that camera.”

  Harriet laughed. “You sure did.”

  “But why’s there even a camera? It’s not live, is it?”

  “No, the show’s not airing for another three weeks. It’s the same with all reality things: loads of footage and only a fraction will make the final cut. It’s playing over a weekend. A pre-recorded show on the Friday and Saturday nights, and the live final on the Sunday.” Harriet pointed to the camera. “I think that footage will go out on the Saturday show, basically the one where we’re all in the thick of it.”

  “The thick of what? And who’s ‘all’? And why’s the camera pointed our way again?”

  “They’ll be getting a long shot of our work in progress – me over here getting you up to speed.”

  “As I invent something? I’m not an inventor, Harriet. What’s made you think I’m an inventor. They can’t hear me can they?”

  “No, footage like this always has a voice-over.” Harriet put on a Geordie accent. “Harriet’s secret weapon shows Harriet her skills.”

  “I haven’t got any skills.”

  “You have. You just held your own on TV.”

  “Talking waffle about waffle. I said we wanted to win this thing. I even did a fist thrust.”

  “I particularly liked the fist thrust.”

  “But I have no clue what this thing is.”

  “Can you do the fist thrust again?”

  “No.”

  The Geordie accent returned. “Harriet’s ace up her sleeve thrusts her fist in the air in triumph.”

  “Why are the voice-overs always Geordie?”

  “They just are. Please? Do it for me?”

  Camila looked at the smiling lips. “Fine,” she said, clenching her fist in front of her, unable to stop her own mouth from curving up at the corners.

  “You have a good fist thrust.”

  “I know I do.”

  Harriet laughed. “You really are a pocket rocket aren’t you? I could put you in any situation and you’d take it in your stride. Little strides admittedly, with those little legs of yours, but you would, wouldn’t you?”

  “You’re about a centimetre taller than me!”

  “But my heels are higher.”

  “Right, I’m going to wear platform shoes tomorrow.”

  “I’ll wear my stilettos.”

  Camila looked down at Harriet’s high heels, her eyes moving up the shapely legs that were crossed at the knee. “Red ones?” she asked.

  “If you like?”

  Unable to identify the sudden charge in the atmosphere, Camila felt her cheeks redden. Yes, it was banter, but there was something else as well. Teasing? An intrigue? A connection that a new employee shouldn’t necessarily have with their boss within one day of meeting. Were they friends? No, of course not. She decided to focus. “Can you fill me in please?”

  “If you like.”

  Camila laughed.

  Harriet shrugged innocently. “What?”

  “I don’t know. You make me laugh.”

  “You make me laugh too.”

  “Laugh nervously. I’m here to do a good job, Harriet.”

  “You will.”

  “But doing what?”

  Harriet nodded. “Inventing.”

  “Inventing what?”

  “An invention.”

  “For what?”

  “For anything.” Harriet pointed back at the camera. “What you did just then was great. It showed me you’re able to fake it until you make it and so much of this is PR.” She smiled. “But now I need you to focus.”

  “I can focus.”

  “Is that your focusing face?”

  “It’s my ready-to-absorb face. Go. I’ve got this.”

  Harriet nodded. “Okay. We’re taking part in a new programme called Budding Businesses. That woman’s one of the producers, Lydia. There are four of them but she usually works with us. The other producers are attached to the other entrepreneurs who are our competition: Barry Maddison from Maddison Computers, Oliver James from the restaurant chain and Jill Masters from Jill’s Gyms.”

  “Wow.”

  The Geordie accent returned. “Four entrepreneurs all competing on the show that shows start-up success.”

  “You’re starting a new business?”

  “Correct. The rules say we can expand on a current business if we want to, but it has to have an entirely new USP.”

  “Unique selling point.”

  “Good. I’ve heard on the grapevine that Jill’s starting a cosmetic treatments spa… it’s an expansion on the gym theme but a totally new business if you see what I mean?”

  “I do. What’s Barry Maddison doing? He’s huge? Why’s he taking part? In fact, why are you taking part? You’ve successfully started loads of businesses already.”

  “Eight.”

  “I tho
ught it was thirty-odd?”

  “I’m a shareholder in a lot of businesses, but I’ve started eight from scratch.”

  “Why do it again?”

  “Why not?”

  Camila paused. “I don’t know.” She smiled. “Maybe because you don’t have to?”

  “I want to.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a challenge.”

  “And you get to be on TV.”

  “I’m not a narcissist.”

  Camila laughed. “I didn’t say you were.”

  “My businesses don’t need me. I set them up with the executive infrastructure in place so I can step away. Not completely. Not a big step anyway.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t with those little legs of yours, would you.”

  “Oh touché, Miss Moore, touché.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine, I deserved that.” Harriet smiled. “I’m still at the board meetings and I do hold a lot of the power, but I put the right people in place so I’m free to move on to the next big thing.”

  “Which is this?”

  “For the moment, yes. I love the challenge of a start-up and it’ll be interesting for people to see how it all works. Plus, there’s the challenge of winning. Three weeks from now all our new businesses will be judged by a panel of experts to see which is the best. The winners will obviously get great exposure.”

  “And they’ll win.”

  “I’m not a megalomaniac.”

  “I didn’t say you were.” Camila laughed again. “So what’s the business?”

  “Well obviously at H.I.P Marketing we work with companies and brands developing projects and ideas… but what about the individual with an idea? Where do they go? There are currently only three reputable, and I say reputable in the loosest of ways, but there are three main invention-to-production companies out there, and none of them are leading the market, none of them are well known.” She lifted her hands to Camila. “If you had an idea where would you go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Exactly, well you’d come to us at H.I.Pvention.”

  Camila stared at her boss. “Do all of your businesses have your initials in their name?”

  “I’m not an egomaniac.”

  “I didn’t say you were. Sorry, go on. H.I.Pvention.”

  “So we—”

  “Wait.” Camila shook her head. “I have to say it. It makes me think of a cushion or something that will stop someone breaking their hip. The prevention of hip breakage.”

  “No, it’s invention, with me, Harriet Imogen Pearson.”

  “Right.”

  “So, H.I.Pvention becomes the market-leading design and innovation firm for individual inventors. You have an idea, you come to us at H.I.Pvention. We take you on a five step journey from idea to prototype.”

  “Five steps?”

  “One: feasibility assessment. Is the idea worth pursuing? What will the costs be? How easy will it be to produce? Two: patent search. Is the idea unique? Has it been patented before? You know what a patent is?”

  Camila nodded. “A patent is something that stops others from making, using or selling your invention?”

  “Good.”

  “I watch Dragon’s Den.”

  “They asked me to be a Dragon.”

  “They didn’t!”

  “They did.”

  “Why aren’t you?”

  Harriet shrugged. “I’m thinking about it.”

  “Oh, how exciting!”

  “I need to wrap this up first.”

  “Wrap this up? Aren’t we still at the gift-buying stage?”

  “We. I like that.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” Harriet continued. “Step Three: concept development, using sketches and computer-aided design to flesh out the idea. Step Four: patent drawings necessary for the patent application. Step Five: prototyping.”

  “Wow! Where are all these people?”

  “Here.”

  Camila looked to the four work pods across the room. Deana was sitting in one, one was empty and the other two were filled by two tired looking men. “Three people?”

  “Four including you.” Harriet smiled. “It’s a business model.”

  “So you’re not actually starting the business?”

  “Oh we are, but we need to show how it’ll work. Brett over there’s our designer. The bald guy. Wait, let me introduce you properly.”

  “To the bald guy?”

  Harriet laughed. “I won’t phrase it like that. Follow me. I’ll introduce you to the ginger guy as well.”

  Camila rose and tried to compose herself. Surely Harriet couldn’t joke like that in this day and age. It was the same yesterday when she was calling the focus groups on floor one the lowest of the low. “Will I be the short dwarf?”

  Harriet halted. “You can’t say things like that on camera.”

  “Oh right, sorry, I thought…”

  “I’m teasing. They’re packing up. Come on, penguin.”

  “Penguin?”

  “Little legs.”

  “Don’t penguins waddle?”

  “The little ones are cute though.”

  “You think I’m cute?”

  “You’re thirty-five, Camila.”

  Camila flushed. “Right, yes, sorry.”

  “I’m teasing! It’s going to be so much fun working with you.”

  “You’re part of the team?”

  “Not really, but I’ll be in and out. Right, ladies and gents, this is Camila. I briefed you yesterday and here she is in all her glory.”

  Camila looked around at the unimpressed faces, aware that the camera was now pointing her way. “Hi guys!”

  Harriet continued. “We have Brett over here. He’s our designer working on concept development and patent drawings. Geoff’s our engineer, again working on concept development but majorly focused on prototyping. Deana you’ve met, she’s in charge of research, assessing the feasibility of ideas and checking for patents. That leaves this pod for you, Camila, our new ideas inventor.”

  Camila did a fist thrust. “Let me at it.”

  “We’re not rolling,” said producer Lydia. “You can stop all that now.”

  “Still, let me at it.” Camila maintained her forced smile.

  Lydia turned to Harriet. “We’ve got enough for today; like I said I’m needed over at Barry’s. Big announcement apparently. The whole crew are there.”

  Deana spoke up. “He’s getting special treatment.”

  “He’s not. You all get the same air time in the end.”

  Harriet placed her hand on Deana’s shoulder. “It’s fine, we’ve got this.”

  Camila watched as the pod people appeared to hold their composure while Lydia and her cameraman said their goodbyes and headed off down the corridor.

  Deana broke first, hissing her words. “We’ve not got this.”

  Brett spoke next as he rubbed his hand over his bald head. “Yesterday was fruitless and I’m out of ideas today.”

  “And fake it until you make it is okay to a point,” added Geoff, “but we’re at that point now. I honestly think we need to contact inventors.”

  “Stop.” Harriet was hands in the air. “How much more impressive will our presentation be if our new business can showcase an in-house design that was seen through from idea conception to patented product invention? Plus, we can’t offer our services to the public until the show goes live on the Sunday night.”

  Deana crossed her arms over her body. “But our ideas are shit and any half decent ones have been done.”

  “Helloooo,” said Camila, waving her hand.

  “Oh god,” gasped Deana, swivelling on her chair. “Mistake one, believing all of Harriet’s fluff. Are you an inventor? No. Just like I’m not a researcher and, yes, while Brett and Geoff may have had designer and engineer in their job titles here at H.I.P Marketing they’re not qualified to design and create something brand spanking new.”

  “
This is small scale,” said Harriet. “Getting the real people in place as we expand will be easy, as are details such as premises and websites; that’s all happening in the background. Trust me, I know what I’m doing. Stick to the format. Come on, you’re the nucleus of H.I.Pvention.”

  “You’re staying to watch?” asked Deana.

  “Yes, follow the format I set. Everyone to the sofas. Camila, this is how each day starts until we have our Eureka moment.”

  Camila crossed the room with Harriet, glancing back at the others who were traipsing behind them having taken odds and sods of paperwork from their desks.

  “Right, sit down everyone.” Harriet remained standing until they were settled before positioning herself at the more formal seating to the side of the sofas. “Camila, this is what we do. Yes, I’ve given you the title of lead inventor, but if I’m honest we’re all lead inventors. We all thrash out our ideas first thing in the morning. You need at least five a day but I’m really wanting twenty, thirty, forty. Right, Geoff, you go first. What have you got for us today? No idea’s a bad idea.”

  Geoff coughed as he fingered his paperwork. “Okay. So how about little umbrellas that fit over your shoes?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Seated in an awkward perching position on the edge of a sofa in the open-plan area at the end of floor five, Camila couldn’t hide that she was totally aghast. Ideas had been thrown into the session for a hat with hair attached so you didn’t appear bald – one of Brett’s; a gym work-out headband that said: No one knows I’m a ginger – one of Geoff’s; a kitchen scale for nuts and seeds that converted portion weight into calorific value – one of Deana’s; and a stiletto shoe with remote control adjustable heel height – one of Harriet’s. And now the group had come full circle and were seriously discussing the idea of umbrellas for shoes.

  “You’ve bought a nice new pair of loafers,” said Geoff.

  Brett cut in. “Loafers aren’t nice.”

  “The ones with the tassels are,” continued Geoff. “Anyway, you’ve bought these tasseled loafers and they’re suede.”

  “Suede tasselled loafers? No.” Brett was shaking his head.

  “It doesn’t matter what shoes they are. Clogs then. You’ve bought some new clogs.”

  Brett squealed. “Who buys clogs?!”