The Way You Smile

by Kiki Archer

  “Whatever. You’ve bought some posh new shoes.”

  “Clogs are never posh.”

  “You have posh shoes; it starts to rain. Your umbrella keeps your head dry but not your shoes. Why not have a compartment inside your umbrella that appears when you open it and hey presto, inside are two miniature umbrellas that you clip over your toes.”

  Camila had to speak up, she couldn’t help it. “Does the apartment have an en-suite?”

  Deana snapped. “We’re brain-storming. No idea’s a bad idea.”

  “This one is.” Shunting even further forward on the sofa, Camila lifted her hands. “Not only would two miniature umbrellas sticking up from the ends of your shoes look ridiculous, but it’s raining so there’ll be puddles and your shoes will get wet anyway.”

  “Ah ha.” Brett was pointing his finger. “Could the shoe umbrellas be the all-encompassing ones that go out and down all the way to the floor?”

  Geoff nodded. “Clear though, so you can still see your posh clogs.”

  “Hmm.” Deana was frowning. “What about people with different sized feet?”

  Camila shook her head; this was ridiculous. “Just yank a shoe cover over your shoes if you’re that bothered.”

  Harriet stood up, having taken a back seat to watch proceedings. “Camila’s right. A shoe cover could work.”

  “I’m not saying it would work.” Camila turned to her boss. “People only use those things when they’re looking around a show home or walking onto a crime scene. Have you ever seen people wearing them around town?”

  Harriet raised her eyebrows. “Gap in the market then?”

  “But what are we patenting?” Camila laughed. “A plastic bag?”

  “We’ll find out, won’t we.” Harriet nodded. “This is stage two of the day. Whatever idea we’ve chosen to focus on is then researched by Deana, and now you as well, while Brett and Geoff start the drawings and prototyping.”

  “Which we always have to stop the second Deana tells us it’s already been done,” added Brett.

  “In this case we already know it’s been done – you only have to watch CSI or Midsomer Murders to know that.” Camila knew she sounded as exasperated as she felt.

  Harriet shook her head. “But it gets us into the habit of working through the system stages. The bottom line is we don’t actually need an invention to present to the panel on the live show. We can showcase our business model as it is before offering our services to the public who’ll no doubt have inventions they’ve been developing for years. You’ll be the heads of your own departments, all with two people working underneath you, two researchers, two designers, two engineers.” Harriet paused. “But how much more spectacular if we can show them we’ve already developed a product internally. Individual inventors are much more likely to use the services of a start-up if they can see it’s already successful.”

  Camila put up her hand. “So an in-house inventor won’t actually be needed when H.I.Pvention goes live?”

  Deana snorted. “You’re not needed now.”

  Harriet stepped forward. “She is. She’s the one who came up with the shoe bag idea.”

  “I didn’t,” said Camila, not wanting any association with the ridiculousness.

  Deana stood up. “So I’m researching patents for shoe coverings, right?”

  Harriet nodded. “Yes, and umbrellas with compartments.”

  “I like that,” said Geoff, also standing from the sofas. “It starts raining, you pop open your umbrella, what else would be handy to pop out? Apart from the shoe coverings obviously?”

  Brett nodded. “A hat with hair underneath so the see-through umbrella doesn’t highlight your forehead shine.”

  “You’ve not got a forehead shine, mate,” added Geoff, “you’ve got a full flashing beacon up there.”

  “Says you, ginger nuts.”

  Camila stayed seated as the three walked away to the pods. She forced her best smile as Harriet sat next to her on the sofa.

  “I’ve not seen that smile before.”

  Camila frowned. “What smile?”

  “That one. The one accessorised by those sad eyes. You have eyes that tell a story, Camila. I noticed it yesterday.”

  Camila stared into her boss’s piercing blue eyes, framed by the gold glasses, pieces of art in their own right. “I’d rather have eyes like yours.”

  “Ha! Is that a compliment?”

  “Of course. Your eyes are gorgeous.”

  “Do you always say what you feel?”

  “Never actually, not on a personal level at any rate, but you started this mutual eye congratulations.” Camila held the connection before feeling her cheeks redden. She turned away. “What I meant to say was that I’d never tell Deana she was snappy and self-protecting.”

  “But you’ll tell her her ideas are shit?”

  Camila laughed. “I didn’t say that, did I?”

  “Your eyes did. You’ve got concerns, I can see them. Come on, let it all out.”

  Checking that everyone was head down and working in the pods, Camila whispered. “They just don’t look like they want to be here, and the idea that they’ll be department heads in a new business seems wrong to me. They should be excited and bubbly and thrilled to be part of such a wonderful adventure.”

  “Your face hasn’t looked thrilled during this session.”

  “Because the ideas are poor, but to be part of something like this at the start is momentous. They should be buzzing.”

  “They won’t remain as H.I.Pvention business heads unless they choose to. They’ll return to their positions here at H.I.P Marketing and Deana will continue to be my Chief Strategist in whatever direction I take next. So much of early doors business is smoke and mirrors, Camila. Plus this is a reality TV show, a competition, anything goes, and it may be that I don’t even take the new business any further once the show finishes.”

  “Oh no, you must! It’s a great idea!”

  Harriet smiled. “It is, isn’t it? I have a separate team scouting for locations, and a team sourcing the designers and engineers.” She paused. “They’ll obviously work on agency daily rates to start with until we establish the viability of the whole thing. But my web design team are working wonders on the online stuff. It’s the website that’s the main showcase for our services and that’s looking incredible. I guess the set-up’s a bit like The Apprentice. Do you ever watch that?”

  “I love it,” said Camila.

  “Their tasks are similar… design this, create this, start up this. They’re showing how things would work, but so much of it is fake it ’til you make it.”

  Camila shook her head. “You need to stop saying that. You have to believe this is a legitimate business that’ll make you money.”

  “Oh, it will. We’ll charge the inventors a fee for each stage of the process. Plus, there’s the option of waiving those fees and opting for shares in the patent and prototype for any ideas we think are credible.”

  “The shoe bag idea’s not credible.”

  “No, but it gives us practice when searching for patents and designing the products.”

  Deana hollered from the pods. “Shoe umbrellas have already been done. Patent filed October 2014. We also have a shoe-covering rain umbrella that’s tied to the leg, patent filed April 2013. Says here in the abstract that the market prospect is high.”

  Harriet shouted back. “Move on to umbrellas with compartments.”

  Camila watched as Brett turned his sheet of A3 paper to the group with a rough sketch of tiny umbrellas attached to the toes of large clogs. He ripped it in half.

  Camila whispered to Harriet. “A high market prospect?”

  “Listen, it’s true what they say: no idea’s a bad idea. You’ve got to think of the novelty shops, the tourists in London, the online market place. Almost everything you fancy can be found online.” Harriet paused before laughing.

  “What?” Camila smiled. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Yo
u’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course.”

  “Right.” Harriet coughed. “Okay, so I want you to go and help Deana with the patent searches; she’ll explain it all. When that’s done I want you to individually research and brainstorm more ideas that’ll be discussed tomorrow.”

  “And what happens in three weeks when the business goes live?”

  “Who knows where we’ll be in three weeks.”

  “Will there be a job for me here? I mean what am I? Am I a market researcher, or an inventor, or a mum returner?”

  “You’re one of my women.” Harriet paused before laughing again.

  “What?” Camila frowned. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Don’t worry, I look after my women.” Harriet pointed. “There! That’s why I’m laughing! Your eyes gave me a look!”

  Camila smiled. “They didn’t!”

  Harriet reached out and squeezed Camila’s shoulder. “Listen, Camila, life’s an adventure. This is going to be one hell of a ride.”

  “I’m more of a practical person.”

  “Well get over there and get going.” Harriet rose from the sofa, offering her hand to help Camila up.

  Camila let herself be led, slightly conscious of the way Deana clocked the physical contact. She wiggled out of the grip. “Thank you, right, I’ll make a start.”

  Harriet nodded. “Meet me for coffee this afternoon? Fill me in on your progress? Say three, during your afternoon break?”

  “In the red coffee area on the ground floor?”

  “Goodness, no,” said Harriet, walking away. “My office, other end of the corridor. Where we were yesterday.”

  Camila nodded as Harriet disappeared before taking her seat and tucking herself into the work pod next to Deana.

  Deana pushed her chair back and swivelled around. “She used to be like that with me, you know.”

  Camila nodded but didn’t look at Deana. “And you’ve not done too badly out of it, have you?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Knocking for the third time on the door to Harriet’s office, Camila debated whether she should try the handle and go in. It was three o’clock. Harriet said coffee in her office at three.

  “She does this too,” said the now familiar voice.

  Camila turned to see Deana walking towards her.

  “Talks the talk, makes elaborate plans… until the next shiny thing comes along and steals her interest.”

  “She might be on a call or in a meeting?”

  “No, she’ll have forgotten. Hot Harriet will be off somewhere with somebody else.”

  Camila studied the woman she’d spent the past few hours beside. She’d naively thought they’d been making some progress. “Does she know you talk about her like this? Harriet told me very few people have the nerve to joke with her.”

  “Oh, I’m not joking, she’s an absolute nightmare. She’s obviously hot, but she’s also very hard to handle. She gets away with it though because she’s a genius who makes an awful lot of money for an awful lot of people. The general consensus is to let Harriet do what she does.” Deana shrugged. “Come on, this isn’t your fault. Let me take you to the snack bar. It’s on floor two, everyone goes there. Warm pastries, muffins, fruit if fruit’s your thing which looking at that tiny little waist of yours, I’m guessing it is?”

  Camila paused, unsure if that was a compliment or an insult.

  Deana continued. “I obviously go for the pastries. They have all sorts. My favourite are the salted caramel croissants. Come on, let me take you.”

  Camila smiled. Deana’s guard was definitely dropping. And, yes, while Deana hadn’t invited her to the snack bar at lunch time but instead disappeared with Brett and Geoff the second she’d nipped to the toilet, leaving her to work through lunch in case they came back and got her, which they didn’t, she was being okay now. “I think I should give Harriet another minute,” she chose to say.

  Deana shrugged. “Your choice, but you’ll be wasting your time.”

  “She definitely said three.” Camila held the connection until Deana shrugged again and turned towards the lift. In normal circumstances Camila would have welcomed the invitation. It was important to accept the olive branch… and the atmosphere between them had definitely improved as the day had gone on, whether that was because she’d quickly understood how to perform a patent search, or because she’d made a couple of rounds of tea without being asked, she wasn’t sure, but Deana’s demeanour had certainly softened. Even so, a coffee with Harriet trumped any sort of early bond Deana may or may not be offering.

  Camila knocked once more before trying the handle. Locked. Turning around she glanced down the corridor. Their open-plan work space was just about visible at the end. Brett and Geoff had gone onto the balcony for a cigarette, Deana had obviously gone to the snack bar, and here she was, loitering like a loser. Maybe Harriet was in with one of the exec? Camila tried a casual slow walk past the large office doors, angling her head at each one she passed. Harriet’s voice was distinctive. Posher than most, with an intriguing edge: cheeky somehow. Camila stopped herself. Why was she smiling at that thought? Harriet’s voice didn’t sound cheeky on television, it sounded serious and formal, but there’d definitely been a teasing tone as they’d talked. Shaking her head, Camila made her way to the lift. She couldn’t get drawn in to something that wasn’t there. If Harriet wanted coffee at three she should have been there for a coffee at three.

  Entering the lift, Camila pressed the button for the ground floor. She’d grab a drink from the red coffee area in reception to avoid Deana who’d no doubt be smug that she’d been right about Harriet’s haphazardness… and haphazardness was the correct word; it certainly wasn’t anything more sinister like deliberately building someone up just so you could knock them down again hours later. Camila looked at her own reflection. It probably wasn’t even haphazardness. It was probably just the stress of running thirty-odd businesses and being pulled in all sorts of directions. Not that Harriet came across as stressed. Plus there was the fact she’d said she was free to come and go as she pleased. Camila’s sigh briefly fogged the mirror. It didn’t matter, either way they wouldn’t be catching up about the day.

  Leaving the lift, she made her way down the long foyer past the crazily-coloured paintings before turning to smile at H.A.H sitting behind the glass reception desk in what she now noticed was an incredibly uncomfortable-looking, almost upright, chair. It transpired that employees did in fact enter through the main doors, their passes giving them access as Helen Anna Howes had explained. The other interesting fact was that the front car park was the only car park, meaning people must either get in really early, or the hubbub on floor one was unique to floor one as again there’d been no one milling around when she’d arrived and there was no one milling around now. Camila’s hours were nine to five, so she’d got in at nine, but maybe this was the type of place where you were expected to give extra?

  Camila decided she’d check that with Helen once she’d made herself a coffee. Actually, she’d see if Helen wanted one now. The receptionist had been kind to her, apologising for yesterday’s mistake before congratulating her on her new position. Harriet had no doubt filled her in just as she had with her three colleagues on floor five. Camila smiled to herself. That sounded strange. The idea she had colleagues. Deana was obviously the most senior of the group, but there didn’t appear to be a strict line of command between them all. It was more of a team type set up: all of them working under the same remit. And that remit was more than expanding the business, it was building a new business entirely.

  Turning back to the reception desk, Camila smiled. She could handle a bit of sniffiness from Deana if it meant being in the mix of something so wonderful. “Helen,” she said quietly, conscious that everything echoed in the large open space, “can I make you a drink?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Can I mak
e you a coffee? Tea?”

  “Really?”

  Camila nodded. “Of course.”

  Helen rose, or more accurately, leapt from her chair. “Oh, how lovely. No one ever comes down here and offers to make me a drink. Are you going to have it over there? I think I’ll join you.”

  “Yes, shall we—” Camila stopped at the loud clipping sound of fast-moving high heels. It was Harriet, dashing at break-neck speed from the other side of the reception area that housed, among other things, the green wellness room and blue outdoor space.

  “Harriet!” she shouted, no longer worried about the echo.

  The clipping halted.

  “Over here!” Camila waved like a lunatic.

  “You’re here!” said Harriet, immediately changing her direction. “I was just on my way to…” The voice paused as her eyes were drawn to Helen. “Oh, are you two…?”

  Camila shook her head. “We’re just grabbing a coffee. I thought I’d missed you.”

  “No no, I was…”

  The receptionist spun around. “Sorry, Camila, I actually need to get on with my work. Next time though, thank you.”

  “You’re sure?” queried Camila, watching Helen walk away before turning to address her boss instead. “Harriet? Do you have time for a coffee?”

  “Please stay if you like,” said Harriet to the receptionist who was already back at her desk.

  “She’s already gone.”

  “Did I leave it too late?”

  Camila laughed. “You spoke too softly as well. She’d never have heard you.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame.” Harriet was smiling. “I was dashing back up to my office for you. For our meeting. For our chat.”

  “Did you forget?”

  “No! Of course not! I was speaking to Pamela from Insights about… oh it doesn’t matter, I was dashing back for you, but here you are.” The laugh was loud. “Goodness, you didn’t wait long did you! And you got yourself new company as well!”

  Camila ignored the teasing. “Shall we sit down over there on the red chairs? I’m not sure about the length of my afternoon break and by the time we get back upstairs—”