Felicity nodded.
“Well, so he’s got stuff to prove to people.” Charles waved to the box. “Unfortunately, the factory was about to send his first bulk order when the landslide wiped out the lot. Well, not just Harvey’s; mine, everyone’s. We’re all in limbo, waiting.”
“I see.” Felicity wondered how he could be so calm in the face of disaster. Then again, calm wasn’t exactly her strength. She did everything at a furious speed, including worrying.
“Now, most people would take that as a sign and decide it’s not meant to be,” Charles went on. “Lotta clients canceled their orders and asked for refunds. Not Harvey. He’s got the bit between his teeth now, and he wants to see his project through.”
“Charles, how many of these things did he buy?” Felicity pointed at the animals. “I mean, paying over a million dollars for bits of plastic? That doesn’t add up. These are…toys.”
“Collectibles,” Charles corrected. “And no, of course he didn’t spend a million on the merchandise. Some of that money is factory setup costs for his production run. They have to retool their equipment for every new product line, and they lost a lot in the disaster. There’s the computer programming, the machine-design costs. Plus there’s the mold-making, which is between two hundred and a thousand dollars per animal, logo printing to add Living Ruff’s name, artists and engineers to make the mold, not to mention shipping, taxes, import duties, and so on.”
Charles drew in a breath and barreled on. “The thing is, he got his prototypes, loved them, then almost immediately the landslide hit. And that’s when he decided to double down and go for it. And I mean he really went for it, expanding his order a whole lot. Now the range he wants is pretty extensive.”
“How so?”
“It’s not just one generic cat, fish, and dog, like you see here.” Charles waved at the prototypes. “After some consideration, he decided to shoot for the rafters. He figures people who love particular breeds will want to buy that one exactly. Say a Great Dane. Or a poodle. Or a Persian cat. A clownfish. You follow? He’s ordered 134 different types of animals.”
“Oh God.” This was where Elena’s money had gone? It’d be faster to just toss it into the Hudson. Felicity felt a headache coming on. “That’s so over-the-top, I have no words. It’s ridiculous.”
“Tell that to someone passionate about their animal breed. It may be no different from a Yankee fan who wants their particular favorite player. Well, Harvey decided that, no matter what the breed, he’d have the product to sell. He’s really enthusiastic about that decision.”
“Do you agree with that approach?” Felicity asked skeptically. “As an expert in merchandising, don’t you have some reservations?”
Charles sighed. “I know, I know. Yes, obviously it’s a gamble. I honestly don’t know if it’ll work. My business is sports, specifically baseball, specializing in the Yankees. You can put a pretty big markup on these products and get your money back, if you’ve picked the right players. Will a bulldog sell as well as a beagle? Your guess is as good as mine. This is his area of expertise, not mine.” He paused. “But maybe he’ll start a collectible trend.”
“I’ve only ever seen these sorts of things used as fundraising fillers,” Felicity said. “A quick way to make a couple of bucks, nothing more.”
“And that’s where the other part of the gamble comes in. Will people pay ten or twenty bucks for quality animal collectibles?” He shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out soon.”
“Harvey seems so cautious normally,” Felicity said. “I don’t understand his sudden appetite for such a risky gamble.”
“He’s a man charged up about a grand plan who wants to prove himself to his way more successful wife, and who are we to say his dream won’t fly? And maybe there is a huge untapped demand for high-quality figurines of all the popular pet breeds. It could even become a collecting craze, if he markets it right. He could use the celebrity angle.”
“How?”
“I suggested he get some A-list animal lovers to sign his pieces and auction them off to draw attention to the product. I could probably provide a few New York Yankees, too—some of those guys really worship their dogs. So getting someone popular to post photos on social media holding an animal collectible? Maybe Harvey’s right and his collection could take off. Stranger things have happened.”
That was true. The things people turned into fads had little logic to her. Also no denying that people loved their pets. Felicity could tell the cartoon creatures were cute enough to catch on. “So when does the first shipment arrive after the plant retooling?”
“Not sure. The factory hasn’t confirmed the new schedule yet, but we’ll know more in about three months. Gotta tell you, the waiting is giving me heartburn. I’ve already run out of Babe Ruths and Willie Randolphs entirely, and I hate not having any. People love ’em.” He straightened. “Let’s go back to my office. The storeroom makes me sneeze.”
Felicity paused. “Would you mind if I had one of the prototypes? Something to show my boss about where her money’s invested?”
“Sure. Which one do you want, cat, fish, or dog?”
“Cat.”
“Really? It looks a little snooty.” He grinned and handed over the white cat with its nose stuck in the air.
“The best kind.” Felicity smiled. Besides, with its white fur, it looked a bit like her destructive lilly pilly kitten. Which she absolutely did not find cute in the least, she reminded herself.
Charles shook his head. “Can’t say I’m much of one for animals. Can’t stand them, to be honest, dropping fur everywhere, chewing up your best shoes.” He led her out of the room. “It’s about the only thing Harvey and I don’t agree on. He’s nuts over animals.”
Felicity followed him wordlessly.
“Hey, can I just confirm one last time my brother-in-law’s not crazy?” Charles continued. “Harvey only needs one influencer to put a pic of one of these collectibles on Twitter, and who knows? It could wind up an income stream for Living Ruff for years to come.”
“Possibly,” Felicity said as they entered Charles’s office. “I’d consider offering to help connect him with a media influencer if he’d actually be upfront with me about any of this.”
“Don’t mind him. He’s still a bit gun-shy about being made fun of, and he wants the goods right in front of him before he announces his new collectibles program. On that note”—Charles put a stilling hand briefly on her forearm—“can you remember this is his big project? Don’t spread what I’ve told you around the office or outside until Harvey’s ready for his reveal.”
“My boss will want to know where her money went.”
“Oh, of course. Tell her, by all means. I just meant everyone else. This is for Harvey to announce to the world when the day comes. Hell, he’s so focused on it being a big, exciting surprise, I’m not even sure he’s told my sister yet.”
No, he certainly hadn’t, given that Rosalind thought Harvey’s new program was about vet techs. Had he lied to his wife? Or had she just assumed?
Well, he’d lied to Felicity about that vet-tech scheme at the very least, hadn’t he? Saying it was on hold and—
It suddenly occurred to her that not once had Harvey claimed Elena’s donation was earmarked for Cooper’s scheme. She and Cooper had assumed it was because of Rosalind’s belief it was.
But when confronted, all Harvey had said was that Cooper’s program was not ready to be implemented yet. Then Felicity had instantly jumped down his throat, arguing it should be ready as Cooper had fully costed it out.
Harvey had just sat there. He hadn’t corrected them, and he hadn’t lied, either. He’d said only that he was working on a new program. Of course Harvey hadn’t also explained, “Oh, that vet-tech scheme isn’t going ahead. No, I threw Elena’s money into a risky, stupidly expensive high-quality collectibles venture that I’m not going to talk about yet in case everyone rains on my parade or mocks me.”
What an unbelievably foolish approach. He’d rather be accused of embezzlement than admit what he’d really done and possibly be embarrassed?
Men truly did fear being laughed at most of all, didn’t they? Margaret Atwood was onto something.
Honestly, she didn’t understand that mindset and never would. Did Harvey truly not grasp he almost had a police investigation land in his lap along with terrible publicity because of his secretiveness? It was just a dumb merchandise order, for God’s sake!
“Ms. Simmons?”
She looked up.
“I said do you have everything you need?” Charles asked.
“Oh. Right.” Felicity shouldered her bag. “You’ve been very helpful. Thank you for your time.” Her hand formed a fist around the little white cat. She glanced down at it. “It’s been…informative.”
“You’re most welcome.” He followed her eye to the cat. “They did do a good job, don’t you think? Look, I know Harvey’s gambling big. I’m not sure even I’d have the balls to do what he’s doing. But at least it’s not cheap crap they’re making for him.”
“One thing we agree on,” Felicity said as she pocketed the cat, “is that nothing about this exercise has been cheap.”
* * *
Felicity slid into the back seat of her car. “Living Ruff, thanks,” she told Amir, then tapped out an email to her chief of staff.
