“Yes, why don’t you take a whiff. My company uses only the finest ingredients, sourced from international farms, and we blend them with care, by the phases of the moon.” She turned to Ari before I could ask anything else. “And what do you do?”
“I’m a hair dresser,” Ari said. “I think I’d like something that would put my clients at ease in my salon. Also, focus would be good for me too, and since I’m a newlywed, something…romantic for the bedroom.”
Sheryl winked at her. “I have the ticket for turning your bedroom into a boudoir.” She sorted out several oils for Ari and shoved them across the table to her. “Tell me these won’t do the trick!”
As Ari smelled the oils Sheryl had chosen for her, I picked up three of the ones she had handed me, one by one. Truth was, they did smell delicious. But—and this was a big but—I felt very little magic coming off of them, but they made me want to buy them.
I wondered how she managed to persuade witchblood clients that the oils were truly magical, but then I realized that she might not be catering to the witchblood crowd, but instead to shifters and humans, who wouldn’t be able to tell if the oils were legit magical or not.
“They do smell divine. I suppose the magic works on a subtle basis?” I couldn’t say anything about the lack of energy I felt, but I wanted to give her a chance to talk her way out of the corner she had landed in.
“Oh yes, we don’t make it obvious or it might put off some people who have a fear of magic. You know how it can be when working with humans and different Otherkin. Shifters tend to shy away from magic and we wanted to make our products friendly to everyone, so we muted the sensation of the magic used in the oils.”
The answer was glib, I had to give it to her for that. And it was definitely a possibility, though highly unlikely. I recognized a rehearsed speech when I heard one.
“How much are these?” I asked, holding up the three bottles I had selected.
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to take a look at the rest of the line? You might find something you can’t live without!” she said.
I let out a resigned sigh for effect. “Well, I would like to, but I have the feeling that I’d break my budget and I have to stick to it this month. You know, December’s coming and there are gifts to buy, and the economy…”
A glimmer flickered in Sheryl’s eyes. “That’s a hard place to be. I imagine a writer doesn’t make all that much.”
“You said it—it’s a thankless job. I do get some nice letters from readers, but fan mail won’t pay the rent. Sometimes I envy people like you. It must be nice to think you’re making a difference in people’s lives in such a direct way.” I glanced at Ari. “Wasn’t I telling you that the other day?”
“You were. Hell, I make a decent living at my job, but now that I’m married, the expenses are piling up and with us looking to buy a new house, money doesn’t stretch as much.”
Sheryl hesitated, then said, “You should think about joining Majikoil. The wonderful thing is you can do it in your spare time and you can make a full-time living on part-time hours! I founded this company because I was working a fast-food job that barely paid the rent, and now I make three times as much as what my full-time job paid. I sell Majikoil exclusively and demand has grown so dramatically that I decided to bring in other reps.”
I straightened, making sure I looked interested. “Really? How much does it cost to buy in?”
She paused. “It’s worth every cent. It’s worth going in debt to be your own boss. I sold my car to fund my business, and now I own a brand-new car. I’m thinking of sponsoring a cruise for my reps next year as a bonus, they all work so hard.” The more she talked, the more animated she became.
“How would we join? You’d accept us?” Ari asked, with the perfect amount of doubt and insecurity to hook someone looking for suckers.
Sheryl’s eyes narrowed and her energy shifted. I felt like an animal caught in a trap. It was as though she had crafted every moment to get to this point. Even though we were the hunters right now, she felt like a crocodile hiding right below the surface of the water.
“So far, everybody who wanted to sell Majikoil has found a way to join. I’ll bring you on board, since I’m the founder. I think Moonshadow Bay could use a couple more reps and you’d be part of my team. The demand is so high that Majikoil sells itself.” She pulled out a sheaf of papers from her briefcase and slid them in front of me. “Why don’t you look these over while I make out a sales slip for your oils. That will be ninety dollars.”
Thirty dollars for a two-dram bottle? I tried not to make a face, not wanting to scare her off. Instead, I pulled out my credit card and she ran it through PhonePay—a credit card app that worked on any phone’s operating system.
Ari and I glanced over the papers. The onboarding process required us to buy in for a flat $5,000 fee, and then we had to order at least a hundred and fifty bottles of oils at $10 a bottle. We sold them for whatever markup we chose. Sheryl recommended having fifty different oils at three bottles each to start with. She also required that we buy another hundred bottles of oils every month.
“Are you sure you don’t want any more?” she asked, handing me a handwritten receipt.
“I wish I could, but…” I paused, then said, “How soon after starting up the company did you earn back your money?”
Sheryl’s eyes glinted like a fisherman reeling in a fish. “Within two weeks I sold every bottle of oil and had to make more. By the end of the first month I think I made about ten thousand dollars after deducting my costs. That goes a long ways! I reinvested the money in my company and it wasn’t long before I decided to open up to other reps. Now the oils are mass-produced and the company has ballooned in size.”
I stood. “Wow, that’s amazingly fast growth.”
“I have my secrets,” Sheryl said, and I almost detected a smirk behind her smile.
“Excuse me, I have to go to the restroom. I’ll be back in a moment.” I hustled over to the bathroom and slipped inside, shutting the door and pulling out my phone. I sat on the edge of the tub and called Rowan. She answered on the first ring.
“Rowan, if Ari and I buy into Majikoil, will the Court Magika reimburse us? I don’t fancy losing over $6,500 to help out. And I doubt that Ari has that much in savings.”
Rowan hesitated, then said, “I’ll guarantee it. The Court Magika will reimburse you, I promise.”
“Thanks,” I said, disconnecting and slipping my phone back in my pocket. As I rejoined Ari and Sheryl, I said, “That’s better. You know, I’ve thought about it and…I think I’m interested. I can use some extra money. Can you give me a rundown on how it works? How do you find customers?”
“Oh, that’s easy. We’ll list you on the website after you’ve bought $3,000 of oils. At that point, we’ll recommend you to anyone searching for a rep in the area. Also, hit up all your friends—on MyHome, Neighborhood, Magic Circle, all those social media groups. Tweet about it, too, and hold a sales party on Home Page. When I go live on Home Page, I sell out in less than an hour.” Sheryl maintained her cheerful vigor the entire time. She was lit—she was on with a capital O.