The next morning he got a few minutes' work done on the basement shelves, then headed to town. He timed it so he would arrive at Anchovie's about half an hour before Octavia's shift was up. Octavia was her usual beautiful, slightly racy self in shorts and a white blouse—and delighted to see him. Without telling him why he should do so, she told him he should stop by the bike shop, and could feel free to come by the house after she got up, and maybe they could plan an afternoon activity if he was interested. He finished eating right when her shift ended. As soon as they were outside the café, she wiggled out of her shorts, revealing a white bikini bottom. Then she unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a revealing white bikini top.
Asch muttered "Y'know, I just love knowing exhibitionists."
She looked at him sideways, "And how many exhibitionists do you know?"
He deliberately gulped conspicuously. "Um, two?"
She chuckled. "We're the only two women you know on this island. Nobody from before, eh?"
"Nope. I'm an innocent."
"Oh if I have anything to say about it, we'll get rid of some of that innocence. We haven't done anywhere near everything there is to do yet."
She grabbed his butt cheek, so he put his hand on hers. They continued their banter as he walked her home, bike on one side, the girl on the other. It worked out pretty well.
The first thing Asch noticed when he got to the bike shop was that several bikes were missing from the sales wall. He thought maybe the place looked like it had been swept, too, and dusted. Bill was taking care of some rentals, so he paged through a few local bike tour guides. He noticed several typos and internally rolled his eyes.
Bill sent off the renters and their bikes and came over. "Do you know what happened yesterday? I—we—Jenny! Sold more bikes yesterday than I've sold all year! A group of scouts came in with their savings and every kid got a bike! And she sold every kid at least one, maybe two accessories. Jenny's a natural! She convinced them not even to bother to check out the other shops! Somehow she assumed they were going to buy here, and they believed her! And she was a step ahead of them with the paperwork and everything! She even had the scoutmaster eating out of her hand. Then she bought their never-dying love by giving each of them an energy bar. Not only that, but every person who came in thinking about renting, rented!" He pointed. "She took them over to these here trip brochures first, got them to decide which ride they'd like, then rented them the "right" bike for that excursion. As if it made much difference which bike they took. And she made Charlie come out and personally adjust the seat and handlebars for each person! Even Charlie was in awe. And he liked the constant praise from the customers. And during the slow time, she bounced some ideas off me—while she was cleaning the place up!"
Some more people came in and Bill left to take care of them. One of them was a fussy 10-year old. Asch called out to him, "Hey kid!" The boy looked at him dubiously. "Do you know what a pirate's favorite vegetable is?"
The kid thought a moment and shook his head. "Uh-uh."
"Why, it's ar-r-r-tichokes!" Asch made a mock ferocious face while he said it.
"Tell me another one!" the kid demanded.
Asch pretended to think hard, then asked, "You know what the pirate did after he graduated from high school?"
"What?" The kid was grinning.
"Why, he joined the ar-r-r-my! And he shot the ar-r-r-tilery!"
The kid grinned and started to think. "You know what happened when the pirate lost his girlfriend?" he asked.
"What?" Asch played along.
"She broke his har-r-r-t of course!" By now everyone in the store was listening, especially the parents, and they all burst into laughter.
Asch shook his head, grinning, "Hey, you're good, kid. Say—you might like this bike trip; it's to Pirate's Cove."
Jenny came in about then and pitched in with the paperwork. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back by a black hairband, and she wore a sensible outfit, casual and summery, but not showing much skin.
Everyone had a good time picking out bikes and coming up with the occasional "ar-r-r" joke.
As they left, the boy's father looked at Asch. "Thank you, sir. That just changed what would have been a miserable day into a pleasant one."
"I'm glad to help out," Asch smiled back." Have fun at Pirate's Cove."
Bill sent off the last of the crowd. "Okay, Jenny, can you mind the store while I take Asch out for a business conversation? You comfortable with that?"
They went to Bob's Beer. Bill offered Asch a brewski, but he declined. "My limit's one a day, and I'm saving up for this evening. I'll take a coke, though." Bill took the hint and ordered two cokes from the cute blonde barkeep. Bill stared at her neckline while she served the drinks, and she smiled and wiggled her eyebrows at him as she left. Bill smiled back, acknowledging and thanking her for the show.
Then he turned to business. "If this keeps up, that girl is going to make more money than I do, with her commission," Bill started.
"Y'know, it's not unheard of for the top salespeople in commissioned sales to earn at the level of the executives and owners. In fact, that's the biggest reason good salespeople change jobs. Their bosses try to reduce their commissions so they can stay on top of the income pile, and the sales champ gets fed up and leaves."
Bill looked down, then looked at Asch. "So you're saying I should be proud of her income, not jealous of it."
"Yup. Unless you want to see her working for Mario. Besides, your income still goes up..."
Bill shuddered. "Yeah, you're right. And Mario needs no help from me, if I can help it." He brightened. "Say, I want to run one of her ideas by you, if you don't mind."
"Sure."
"She thinks we need to have a drop-off point at the terminals so people don't have to come back to the store. Maybe make some arrangement with one of the shops. Put up a bike rack, then we go pick them up after the ships leave."
"Maybe offer it as an option for them—for fifty cents they don't have to bring their bike back, just leave it at the terminal," Asch mused.
"We could have a kid there, and have him work for tips." Bill was brainstorming. "Maybe one of those scouts." He continued, "I'm also increasing our inventory order. Gonna take a chance that Jenny's salesmanship isn't a fluke. Sales skills. Saleswomanship sounds weird. Anyway, it didn't seem like a fluke when I watched her in action."
"It does seem like you're getting some action. Bike action, I mean."
Bill didn't catch the unintended suggestive interpretation. "Yeah, almost makes me want to do this permanently." He sighed, but didn't take the subject any farther. He brightened. "Say! What drug did you use on my mom yesterday? She was actually doing stuff when I got home. Had some supper on the table, the house was cleaner (not that Octavia and I don't take good enough care of things, y'unnerstand), and she was doing some of her needlework, which I haven't seen since Dad died! You are magic, man!" He sobered. "I hope it lasts."
"I hope so too." Asch downed the last of his coke. "I'm supposed to come back and see a finished piece in three weeks, so that's an encouraging sign."
Bill paid for their drinks and they headed back to the shop. Jenny had sold two bikes, to a couple who had been checking out bike shops for a week but not bought.
Asch gave Bill a congratulatory look, and headed for the library to see if he could pick up a couple books on sailing. About 3:30 he headed for Octavia's.
Vivian met him at the door. "Come in, Asch. Octavia's in the bathroom and I have something to show you. She has done nothing but talk about you ever since yesterday, by the way—all good, too. You must be some kind of genius or something. Anyway, here, look at this."
Arranged on the dining room table were what must have been more than a dozen arrangements of needlework. Asch saw immediately that each pile displayed a different style. It was all fine, detailed work, obviously good quality. He was stunned. "You—you arranged this in a pretty nice display. Do you have a marketing background?" He asked.
"No, I go by instinct. Developed it doing classroom bulletin boards, I guess."