Page 19 of Mountain Man’s Mystic Touch

“There are nuts.”

She walks toward her booth. I fall into step beside her because it lies within my patrol route. The fact that my route could include any of the other sixty-three booths is irrelevant.

“Did you post the video?” I ask.

Loralee glances at me. “I thought security companies used social media.”

“They do.”

“Then you know how posting works.”

“You agreed not to show my face.”

“Your face isn’t visible.”

“My voice is.”

“You gave me permission to leave it.”

“I remember.”

“Do you remember everything?”

“Most things.”

We reach her booth. Loralee places the tray beneath the sales counter, then takes out her phone. She opens the video and holds the screen toward me.

The edited version begins with the empty canopy against the mountains. A quick sequence follows as fabric, shelves, lanterns, and displays appear in stages. Loralee moves through the frame arranging candles and crystals. Occasionally, my arm enters the shot to secure something beyond her reach.

My voice is clearer than I expected.

Fabric creates a fire load.

The video cuts to Loralee smiling into the camera.

Apparently, change also requires a safety inspection.

She added quiet music, captions, and several close images of her products. The final shot shows the completed booth glowing beneath the maple tree.

The video is good. Professional. More polished than anything my company has posted in six months. It also has more than four thousand views.

I examine the number again. “When did you post this?”

“Last night.”

I scroll through the comments.

The security man’s voice.

Who is Mr. Fabric Creates a Fire Load?

Ask him whether dangerously hot counts as a safety violation.

I hand the phone back. “Delete it.”

Loralee laughs. “No.”

“You said my face wasn’t visible.”