Merry With A Milkman (Love Beach, Holiday Collection)

One

one

Tegan

O ne of the detriments of having an apartment above our store Choco-Love is my brother and his new wife have a tendency to disappear when business is slow. I’ve learned to knock then wait before barging in. Today I waited until the last moment to interrupt and now I’m running late.

I hate being late.

It’s not that big of a deal today though since I’m headed to the Sandy Sipper bar for a sex toy party. of my new friends in Love Beach is trying to make extra money with this venture and I’m happy to help however I can. Besides, it’s been some time since I’ve gotten a new toy. Adding variety to my toy chest always makes me happy.

Since that’s the extent of my sex life, I deserve options.

There’s quite a few cars in the parking lot, but it’s far from full. I frown before remembering the bar is closed on Monday. The party is on the deck facing the beach so I take the path around the building. The sound of women’s voices and laughter relaxes my shoulders as I turn the final corner.

side of the deck is brightly lit and more women than I’d expected mill around the area, nibbling on snacks and refilling their wine glasses. I’m excited for Boots. This could be a profitable party for her.

Nyla, the owner of the bar, sits to one side. She’s recently married and her husband watches everyone and everything. He doesn’t miss much. There’s a story there that I’d love to hear. I don’t expect either of them to ever explain, though. And that’s okay.

I grab a glass of sweet, sparkling Moscato and take a tiny sip. Delicious. I need to grab some food before I drink too much since I haven’t eaten since breakfast.

Boots appears at my side and hands me a small plate filled with appetizers. “You look hungry,” she says with a nervous grin. “I’m glad you’re here. This is the biggest group I’ve ever had. What if…”

Her voice fades and I set down my wine to touch her arm. “You’ll do fine. Stick with your plan. These ladies look excited and more than ready to buy. I know I am.”

“You don’t have to order anything. I’m just glad you’re here. For emotional support.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I will if I see something I like. Go on now, hon. You’ve got this.”

Wine in one hand, food in the other, I follow Boots to the tables she’s moved into a semi-circle facing a table covered with a sheet and choose my seat. Each table has an attractive low centerpiece of fresh flowers and greenery.

Once Boots has everyone’s attention, she starts her presentation, only uncovering one item at a time to show off before replacing it on the table. She intersperses hilariously fun games with the product demonstrations. The games both embarrass and delight her customers. I even win the final game and as prizes the winners are given one of the centerpieces.

“Ladies,” Boots says, “There’s a special surprise in with the flowers for our winners. But if you like what you see, you’ll also find those items on your order form.”

A surprise? I carefully move the red and white carnations and deep green leaves to discover a thick, smooth glass candy cane. Interesting, but I’m not sure about the usefulness of the red-swirled toy without any bumps or ridges. How to use it doesn’t matter, it’ll look great in my toy chest. And winning makes me happy.

Once Boots invites everyone to take closer looks at her display, she sinks onto the chair next to me. “It’s going well, isn’t it?”

I glance at the women crowding the table, order blanks in hand. “I’d say so.”

“Can I… Can I ask your advice?”

“About sex toys?”

She rolls her eyes. “No. About how I can increase my business. Get more sales. Your business is so successful and I need the money.”

Hoping nothing is seriously wrong, I try to ignore a niggle of worry. “Unfortunately you’re working in a niche market here.”

“No kidding.” Her shoulders droop. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Just keep giving parties like you did tonight. Word will spread. You’ll get repeat customers so give them perks and reasons to buy again. Like the game prizes tonight. Hiding something special in these fabulous arrangements is genius. Where did you get them made?”

A rosy blush covers her cheeks. “I made them. You see, that’s what I really want to do. What I’m saving my money for. I want to work with flowers. I’ve taken classes in arranging and now I need to go to college. Get a business degree so I can open my own flower shop.”

“If you can make exquisite arrangements like this, you’ll definitely be a success.”

“That’s what I keep telling her,” Nyla says as she sits and offers me a refill.

After a refreshing sip, I continue, “While a degree can be beneficial, you don’t need one to start a business. Just a few specialized classes in things like bookkeeping, taxes, marketing. Along with a product people want—which it looks like you have—and of course strong determination.”

“Oh, I’m determined, all right. As much as I enjoy bartending, I don’t want it to be my lifetime job.”

“Hey,” Nyla complains with a good natured grin.

Boots hurries to explain. “No, I mean I?—”

“Hush,” Nyla says with a wave of her hand. “I know exactly what you mean. You’re a fantastic employee but you’ll be better as your own boss. What you need…” She stares at me. “Is a mentor.”

Before I can speak, Boots is called away to start processing orders. Nyla arches her brows and returns to where her husband is doing paperwork at the bar. I tap my fingers against my order form. But instead of deciding which scent of massage candle I want, my thoughts spin around Nyla’s suggestion.

A mentor. Helping others start new businesses appeals to me. The world needs fewer big box stores and more small businesses. Not that I want to give up my place at the candy shop. That’s home.

A couple other businesses opened shortly after Choco-Love and have already closed. I’m fairly sure I can list most of the reasons without trying too hard. If there would have been someone to offer suggestions, simple solutions, encouragement, maybe those shops would still be open. Many people new to the retail world are uncomfortable asking for help and often don’t join local business associations.

There needs to be something here in Love Beach, somewhere they can bring questions and concerns. A place for practical learning.

I’m still deep in my thoughts when Boots returns to the table. “I’ve gotten more orders than I hoped for.”

“Oh, and I haven’t completed my order yet. I’ll hurry. I’ve been thinking. You’re probably not the only person in the area who’d like to go into business for themselves. I’m considering arranging a gathering to see if there’s enough interest to start a group to support each other. I might be able to convince some established business owners to speak to the group. Maybe become mentors. What do you think?”

Her eyes shine with hope. “I think that would be wonderful. I want to learn everything I can to make my flower shop the best ever.”

“Great. I’ll get something going. First I need some place to hold the initial gathering.”

Behind me a throat clears. I turn to Nyla’s smile. “What about here? As a small business owner, and a woman, I want to help others find their passion. You can meet on a Monday when the bar’s closed. Or if another night is better, I’ll close off part of the deck for you to use.”

major problem solved. “Perfect. How about I help clean up then we can check our calendars and pick a date. No sense wasting time.”

Half an hour later I place my flowers carefully on the floor of the passenger seat then sit in the parking lot for a few minutes. What did I just agree to do? We’re coming into the holiday season, typically a really busy time in a chocolate shop. Especially since I’m also trying to bump up our business by coming up with a way to sell our chocolates during events on the boardwalk.

At home I set the flowers on the coffee table and add a little water according to Boots’ instructions. I leave the candy cane in place so I don’t ruin the arrangement. My planner is under a pile of papers on the floor and I find a pen between the couch cushions. Time to make some plans.

Good thing I like being busy and don’t have any other distractions. I glance at the curve of the candy cane peeking between the flowers. Like a man.