Chapter Fifty-One – Racket-Making

Emily occasionally… frequently, thought that Sam was a bit much. The girl was an extrovert’s extrovert, and Emily suspected that Sam had some issues that would take a very good psychologist to untangle. Still, for all that Sam was insane, she was insane in Emily’s favour, so Emily kept her reservations close and didn’t complain–aloud–about Sam’s quirkier habits

Sam was talking to one of the owners of the Yeast Feast, combining a quick, non-stop rattle of sales pitches with gestures deeper into the alleyway where they were standing.

The owner was weathering the storm better than Emily could have managed, with frequent glances at Emily and her sisters who were deeper into the alley. At the moment, Teddy was in her bear form, with Trinity and Athena riding on her back. One of Trinity was using the added height to look into a dumpster deeper in the alley.

Emily glanced at Trinity, met her eyes, then shook her head slowly. The Trinity standing up on Teddy’s back sat back down.

“Well, there’s no doubting they’re the real thing,” the owner said. He gestured vaguely in the girl’s direction. “But what I don’t understand is what you want from us.”

“Oh, it’s simple,” Sam said. “See, the city is growing really dangerous. There are villains aplenty, and worse! Minions! You’re a clever business owner, you know the risks you take just to keep everything afloat. Now, imagine how much safer your shop would be if the girls patrolled it. And even better, think of how many people would visit your place. The bakery with the superheroic customers. No, the superheroic mascots!”

The man rubbed his chin. “I guess I can see the temptation there, but it all depends on how much you’re asking for.”

“It’s really inexpensive,” Sam said. “We have three packages we’re offering to local businesses. We approached you first because we know you have a good rapport with the others in the area, and we thought we could use you as a bridge. Of course, we’ll offer a steep discount for that.”

“Uh huh,” he said. Not rudely, Emily didn’t think, just as a sort of ‘I’m listening’ sound.

“Our base package only costs two hundred a month and includes one-a-month visits from the entire group. They’ll pop in and buy some… bread or croissants or whatever, maybe smile for the cameras, then scamper off to do what we do best.”

“That’s half of what I pay for my security systems now,” he said.

Sam grinned. “Only half! Think of how much you’ll be saving! Our next package up includes two monthly visits, including eating at your establishment once a month. We’ll use our prime detective skills to track down anyone that tries to rob or intimidate you. All that for only four hundred dollars a month.”

“That’s twice as much as the previous tier.”

Sam nodded. “Yes it is. That’s after your discount, of course.”

“That’s getting expensive.”

“Our prime tier is a thousand dollars a month,” Sam said. “But for you, nine-fifty. That’s a five percent discount!”

“That’s insane,” he said. Emily didn’t nod, but she had to agree with him.

Sam shook her head. “No, it really isn’t. For that price, we’ll pop by once a month and spend at least four hours at your shop advertising it for passersby. Taking pictures, signing posters, kissing babies, the whole nine yards!”

“Four hours for a grand?” he asked.

“Four hours for several heroes,” Sam pointed out. “Do you have any idea how much it costs to get a hero to work for you for even just one hour? Look at how many are here right now and tell me that we’re not worth that much and more! Just the sheer social media presence you’ll get from it should be worth ten times as much.”

Emily was amazed to see the man actually thinking about it. If they could secure a deal here. Well, she was pretty sure that was enough per month to cover food and essentials… probably. Just from one place.

“Would all of them show up?” he asked.

“We’re busy people you know. At least two of them each time. We can rotate them around so that the crowds don’t get tired. You’ll get repeat customers just from people trying to get every signature.”

He rubbed his hands together. “We could do special pastries. Bear paws and… well, I’ll think of something owl and racoon themed.”

“Of course,” Sam said. “We will, obviously, need a cut of any merchandising sales.”

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“Pardon?”

“We can start at eighty percent,” Sam replied.

“That’s excessive.”

Sam snorted. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me that people wouldn’t buy twenty-dollar posters if it meant getting a chance to have them signed. They’ll cost you a dollar each and I bet you’ll sell out every time.”

“… Fifty percent.”

Sam shot her hand out to shake. “Seventy-five, we’ll show up next wednesday in-costume at… four-ish?”

“Make it the day after. Do you have official marketing images for posters and the like?”

“We haven’t pushed our racket onto the local printers yet,” Sam said, “but we’ll be heading there soon enough.”

They shook, and Emily had to keep herself from gawking.

“Alright, do you have a number I can text to arrange all of this stuff?” Sam asked. They traded numbers, with Sam handing an extra business card over to Emily who took it gingerly and then wondered what to do with it while in-costume.

Sam and the bakery owner talked for another minute or two, then he headed back inside. “That… was honestly kind of incredible,” Emily said.

“Yeah. Poor dude just got swindled hard. But hey, the allure of heroes will do that to people, I guess.”

Emily shook her head. “Where to next?”

“I wasn’t joking about the printers. We probably can’t set up as good a racket there, but we’ll still need to set something up. Merchandising stuff is probably worth a whole lot, and let’s face it, the brats are photogenic as heck. I swear, take any ten-second clip of them doing whatever and it’ll go viral.”

Emily glanced over to her sisters, then frowned. “Teddy! Trinity! What are you doing to that dumpster?”

It was weird that she could now read the facial expressions of grizzly bears, Emily thought as she watched Teddy carefully step back from the dumpster. The top clanged down and Trinity jumped down and back onto the ground.

“I have to go to that interview,” Emily said. “Are you going to be okay watching over the kids?” She didn’t use the word babysit, mostly because it insulted the girls who admittedly weren’t babies. They were worse.

“I’ll be fine,” Sam said. “Keep your phone on, just in case, but otherwise I’m sure things will be okay. We’ll take it slow, just in case.”

“Alright,” Emily said. She actually trusted Sam. The girl had too much invested not to earn that trust by then. Also, her sisters could take care of themselves, a little, when supervised. If someone tried to hurt them then they’d probably make that person’s life a nightmare.

Teddy would turn into a bear, Athena would do horrific things to their mind, and Trinity was as hard headed as she was immortal.

Emily probably didn’t have anything to worry about.

Which made it annoying when she realized that despite that she had a pit of worry in her gut.

Emily gave her sisters a quick speech, telling them to behave and listen to Sam, and then she was off.

The bakery wasn’t too far from where her interview would take place, in a nicer restaurant just a block down, the sort with a greeter by the door and where tables had to be reserved in advance, even during the middle of the day.

Emily adjusted her costume, made sure her mask was on straight, then she made an effort not to slouch as she walked along the sidewalk to the restaurant.

There were two customers ahead of her, but they slid to the side and stared at her, so she just… walked up to the waiter’s podium and tried to smile. “Ah, reservation for The Cowl?” she asked.

The waiter nodded. “R-right this way,” she said.

Was the woman… star-struck? Or could it be that she was intimidated?

No, that was silly. Emily pushed the thought aside. People didn’t feel that way about her.

She followed the waitress through the restaurant and towards the back where a few booths were tucked away. They had tall walls around them that enclosed the entire booth enough that it was hard to see the people sitting within. With some low classical music playing on above it would be hard for someone to accidentally overhear anyone in one of those booths.

That’s where Emily found the journalist she’d be working with. A gaunt young man in a sweater who looked like he was a shade too warm for his own good and who jumped when she sat across from him.

“Hello,” Emily said. “I’m the Boss. You’re here for the interview?”

***

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