A British love at first sight

Chapter 10

The rest of the week was a repetition of the day before, my customers were informed of the early closure on Friday and the full closure on Saturday, so I had a bit more traffic, more bookings for upcoming arrivals, more orders for upcoming titles, and follow-ups with distributors since the books weren't coming in. I didn't stop for a second. When the door opened to a smiling Mackenzie, pushing her suitcase, I put on my best accent, which I had eventually mastered, shedding the humiliating accent I had learned at school. I slowed down the speed of the Parisian accent, speaking more mechanically while accentuating certain intonations, surprising Mackenzie.

"It almost sounds like a Yorkshire accent, well done, Camille," she praised me, making me blush. Closing my cash register and putting away the money in the safe, I locked everything up. Linked arm in arm with her, we walked around to pick up the car I had rented, parked in my delivery spot.

To say I was excited would be an understatement as we slide the car onto the shuttle.

To say I was wet would be accurate when we got off and I handed the wheel over to Mackenzie, giving me time to adjust to the idea of driving on the other side of the road—an even more interesting challenge for Mackenzie, with the steering wheel on the wrong side of the car.

Following the GPS directions, she quickly navigated us to our destination and parked alongside a shop. As the door opened, I instinctively clutched my wallet, not wanting my Credir Card to witness what I was about to see. When the person greeted us, I knew I wouldn't return home alive from this trip. And suddenly, it hit me. I loved England. Overexposed to TV shows, I had become addicted to the streets, the architecture, the British people, and their accent.

I need an English man in my life!

I muted my libido and introduced myself, then introduced Mackenzie. I let her do the talking as I wandered around. My Credit Card is screaming, I could hear it; it wanted to see too, to touch. I rejoined Mackenzie, congratulated the designer, confessed my love for her designs, and restrained myself from jumping over the counter to kiss her. She was interested in Mackenzie's proposal, not my fantasies. She pulled out a standard contract from a drawer, adjusting the discount percentage provided. We quickly did the math. Mackenzie knew what she would sell them for, and the profit margin was enticing. Assured about availability and delivery times, she led us to her back room to show us her stock before giving us a moment to think.

"It's tempting, Camille. I'm just worried about the initial investment."

"Come with me, my English marvel, show me what catches your eye right now."

Taking a stroll, she showed me models I adored, including the one that really caught my eye, be it blouses, pants, or dresses. I left her and went back to see Colleen, our host, for a one-on-one discussion. We understood each other, exchanged smiles, and she followed me with a notebook in hand as I pointed out specific designs. Mackenzie joined us, and I patted her back, reassuring her and asking her to take a seat. I concluded my conversation with my soon-to-be new friend, who provided me with a bill featuring a very advantageous discount. I didn't show it to Mackenzie, but I negotiated with my amazing new friend. We agreed on a delivery date, and Mackenzie and I signed the contract, officially becoming resellers. I paid and received a top-notch hug from Colleen. I received the folder containing a copy of the contract, her business card, and her personal number handwritten. With our small transaction, we had just helped her finish her week and close out her month. A farewell later, we continued on our route to the second planned stop, but Mackenzie no longer wanted to go, expressing discomfort about the money. However, I kissed her on the cheek.

"Hit the road, Mac!"

She didn't insist, and with the coordinates set, we went to see what we originally came to her country for. We visited several shops, made a few purchases, noted down the names of the designers, but it was impossible to see them, as they didn't work on weekends. We would try online or by phone; it wasn't a big deal, as Colleen had opened up new prospects for Mackenzie, who seemed to be growing more enthusiastic by the minute. I observed the road, then noticed the signs.