by making oval frames for people outside to look through,” Finn announced. “We’re going for a shadowbox effect. Raise your hands if you have any questions.”
No one did. They knew what he was talking about.
Finn pointed to several members of the group, including Nicole. “You, you, you, you, and you. Grab those cans of spray adhesive.”
Nicole turned to look at the Plexiglas panels with large, peel-off ovals in their centers. The ovals would be removed when the “frame” part was sprayed on and the panels placed in front of the store’s glass windows.
She lined up with the others and took a spray can from the table, plus gloves, a face mask, and goggles.
“Okay. You, you, and you”—Finn pointed to three guys—“follow her. Each window bay has a bucket of dust. When she’s done spraying, throw dust in handfuls until the Plexiglas around the oval is covered with it. Do not, repeat, do not, throw dust at Nicole.”
She smiled wanly at his joke. The guys were eyeing her already. They probably wouldn’t act up—Finn wouldn’t stand for it. But he couldn’t be everywhere. Wouldn’t it be nice, she thought, if Sam were here? He was good at following directions, for a cowboy.
Xandro clapped his hands. “The ovals do not come off until the frame is dusted,” he warned. “And please note the pond liners already installed at the bottom of the window bays. We’re going to fill them with more dust and grit. And some broken bricks,” he added proudly.
Finn glanced at the drawings. “Then the mannequins go in. I need them dressed while the dust people are working.” He pointed to a few more freelancers.
Nicole snapped on her paper mask and pressed the flexible edges to fit her face. She set her equipment by the window she would do and went back to her tote, finding a bandanna to wrap around her head and a worn workshirt to cover her clothes. It wouldn’t be long before she was overheated and down to her tank top. This was the miserable part of making magic.
An hour or so later, she peeled off the large paper oval to reveal the clear space that people outside would look through, and carefully wiped away specks of dust with a squirt bottle of window cleaner. By now she had plastic grocery bags tied over her shoes so she wouldn’t track the grit underfoot into the store. The frame was perfect. Finn gave it a thumbs-up.
Coughing, Nicole took off her improvised booties and gloves, and then the face mask, pitching everything into a huge trash can. The platforms that would hold the mannequins were in position. She’d put on fresh protective gear when they were installed.
She peeled off her workshirt and the sweater underneath. Tank top time. The only advantage to working under hot lights was sweating off a few pounds. She tucked the rib-knit top into her jeans, brushing them off and then washing her hands with a bottle of sanitizer.
Xandro had dragged Finn off to look at a window that wasn’t as far along, and it was another minute before he came back to her.
“Think we should order the pizza now?” Finn asked. “We’re going to need eight. Might take a while. ”
“Sure. I’ll do it. Where’s the phone?”
Finn moved behind the register counter and picked up an old-fashioned landline, setting it out with a thunk. He found a handful of take-out menus and fanned them out. “Here ya go. Make sure one pizza is vegetarian. Other than that, anything goes. And get nine six-packs of cola and one of ginger ale.”
“Got it.” Grease, salt, sugar, and caffeine. Freelancer fuel.
She picked the grubbiest menu, figuring it was the most popular. Then she placed the order and gave the street number.
“Hah? Say what? There ain’t no apartment buildings at that address. You crank callers drive me crazy.” The pizza guy hung up.
Nicole called the next one. Fortunately, the only question they asked was cash or credit.
“Cash,” she replied, waving Finn over. He took out a roll of bills and
No one did. They knew what he was talking about.
Finn pointed to several members of the group, including Nicole. “You, you, you, you, and you. Grab those cans of spray adhesive.”
Nicole turned to look at the Plexiglas panels with large, peel-off ovals in their centers. The ovals would be removed when the “frame” part was sprayed on and the panels placed in front of the store’s glass windows.
She lined up with the others and took a spray can from the table, plus gloves, a face mask, and goggles.
“Okay. You, you, and you”—Finn pointed to three guys—“follow her. Each window bay has a bucket of dust. When she’s done spraying, throw dust in handfuls until the Plexiglas around the oval is covered with it. Do not, repeat, do not, throw dust at Nicole.”
She smiled wanly at his joke. The guys were eyeing her already. They probably wouldn’t act up—Finn wouldn’t stand for it. But he couldn’t be everywhere. Wouldn’t it be nice, she thought, if Sam were here? He was good at following directions, for a cowboy.
Xandro clapped his hands. “The ovals do not come off until the frame is dusted,” he warned. “And please note the pond liners already installed at the bottom of the window bays. We’re going to fill them with more dust and grit. And some broken bricks,” he added proudly.
Finn glanced at the drawings. “Then the mannequins go in. I need them dressed while the dust people are working.” He pointed to a few more freelancers.
Nicole snapped on her paper mask and pressed the flexible edges to fit her face. She set her equipment by the window she would do and went back to her tote, finding a bandanna to wrap around her head and a worn workshirt to cover her clothes. It wouldn’t be long before she was overheated and down to her tank top. This was the miserable part of making magic.
An hour or so later, she peeled off the large paper oval to reveal the clear space that people outside would look through, and carefully wiped away specks of dust with a squirt bottle of window cleaner. By now she had plastic grocery bags tied over her shoes so she wouldn’t track the grit underfoot into the store. The frame was perfect. Finn gave it a thumbs-up.
Coughing, Nicole took off her improvised booties and gloves, and then the face mask, pitching everything into a huge trash can. The platforms that would hold the mannequins were in position. She’d put on fresh protective gear when they were installed.
She peeled off her workshirt and the sweater underneath. Tank top time. The only advantage to working under hot lights was sweating off a few pounds. She tucked the rib-knit top into her jeans, brushing them off and then washing her hands with a bottle of sanitizer.
Xandro had dragged Finn off to look at a window that wasn’t as far along, and it was another minute before he came back to her.
“Think we should order the pizza now?” Finn asked. “We’re going to need eight. Might take a while. ”
“Sure. I’ll do it. Where’s the phone?”
Finn moved behind the register counter and picked up an old-fashioned landline, setting it out with a thunk. He found a handful of take-out menus and fanned them out. “Here ya go. Make sure one pizza is vegetarian. Other than that, anything goes. And get nine six-packs of cola and one of ginger ale.”
“Got it.” Grease, salt, sugar, and caffeine. Freelancer fuel.
She picked the grubbiest menu, figuring it was the most popular. Then she placed the order and gave the street number.
“Hah? Say what? There ain’t no apartment buildings at that address. You crank callers drive me crazy.” The pizza guy hung up.
Nicole called the next one. Fortunately, the only question they asked was cash or credit.
“Cash,” she replied, waving Finn over. He took out a roll of bills and
Similar Books
