20 Million Tiny Particles

12. Business

I received my welcome letter from Diamondesq three days later. Apparently, I met the criteria.

Since I'd put Sheridan down as my referring Ambassador, the fee for signup was reduced from $250 to only $100. They promised that my first box of trial products was already in the mail. When that ran out, I'd have to purchase at least one shipment per month in order to retain my active status. Plus a $15 monthly fee.

But those were only the obligatory startup fees to ward off any potential Diamond Girls who wouldn't take the business seriously, the welcome materials claimed. Once I began selling and recruiting other girls, I'd make up the money I'd invested tenfold. Twentyfold! A hundredfold!

The investment made me nervous, since I knew enough about multilevel marketing to know it tended to take more than it gave. I reminded myself that I was allowed to spend the money, whether I made it back or not. And besides, I really did believe I'd make it back. At least some of it. I really had no idea. Then Sheridan called.

"What's up?" I asked from the basement of the shop, where I was sorting through a recent lot of consignment items. A woman had died and her son had come by with a pickup truck bed of her valuables and otherwise. So far, the most interesting thing was a Fleetwood Mac record signed by all the names you wouldn't know. If Mom were here, she'd already have it on the turntable upstairs, dancing around to a B-side she'd pretend to know the lyrics to. But she wasn't.

Sheridan's breath was shaky following her second spin class of the day. "I sold it all," she exclaimed.

"What do you mean?"

"All of the gel," she breathed. "All ten boxes they sent. And I got four more orders for drinks."

It felt like a lot -- much more than I expected. "How much does that make you?" I had to know.

"Me?" she answered, her voice cracking. "You mean us. You're sharing this with me, Julie. This was all your idea."

"I couldn't. That's not fair, it's your product."

"So? We're a team, Julie. And I've got a bonus coming my way from your signup anyway."

She had a point. And by the structure of the company, she'd get a cut for every new member I recruited too. If I recruited any, of course.

"So," I went on. "How much then?

"About $400. Not bad for a day at the gym." She laughed. "Anyway, you have to come celebrate!" I could hear her guzzling water, or whatever color of Diamond Drink she had the taste for today.

I glanced at my smart watch, the screen layered with a sheen of dust. Almost seven PM. "I don't know if I can," I confessed into the phone. "I told my friend I'd meet her when I finish work, and I'm still knee deep in some stuff here."

I told the truth -- though knee deep might have been exaggerating, I really did want to finish sorting out the collection in the hope that I would find a gem to appease Dad after our blowup the other day. We hadn't spoken much to each other since, not that we ever did, just niceties in the morning and work requests if he emerged from his office during the day. Ms. Lavonne kept asking if he was doing okay, but I didn't know what to say except to shrug. She said she was praying for us. I believed her, but I didn't know if it was working.

The other half was true as well. I had been putting off seeing Mariah for the last few weeks, and aside from a halfhearted Target run, we'd barely been in contact. She wasn't a great texter, and frankly neither was I. The only times I'd been especially at-the-ready with my phone was when Bryce and I had been, well, whatever we were. And now, with Sheridan.