Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Eden
Iwould never look at a cat the same way again, not after spending three weeks trying every natural and chemical odor removal on the market in an attempt to get the smell of cat pee out of the back corner of my new store.
Ringing in the new year with cleaning products was not how I’d imagined life in my thirties.
“Why me?” I asked aloud, throwing a rag soaked with enzyme spray down on the stained carpet. “I have always been a friend to feline-kind. My dream is finally coming true, and now customers will be hit with this god-awful smell while they shop for lingerie. Perfect.”
“Are you talking to yourself again?”
I leveled a glare at my cousin, Adelaide, though it melted away when I saw her brother standing behind her. A toolbelt hung low on his hips and he tossed a measuring tape up and down with one hand like it was a baseball.
“Rob! Please tell me you’re here to work your construction magic on this freaking floor.”
He winked at me as he playfully bumped Adelaide aside. “That’s exactly why I’m here. It’s going to get loud, so I suggest you ladies go get some lunch while I work. Bring me back a roast beef sub, would you?”
“Get rid of that smell and I’ll provide a year’s worth of subs. You’re a lifesaver,” I yelled over my shoulder as Addie tugged me out the back door of my new shop.
It wasn’t much to look at just yet. We’d papered over the picture windows at the front to stave off curious passers-by.
The clothing racks were still empty and crammed into one of the back rooms, and my stock covered every available surface in the other one.
The cat pee had taken more time and attention than anticipated, much to my dismay, and I needed to see what miracles my cousin could work before Addie and I started on the decor.
There was a chance the shop would be an epic failure.
I warned myself of that fact every seven minutes or so since I’d first secured the location in a cute-but-slightly-rundown plaza with street parking only.
Spruce Hill was a bustling small town, but I knew some of the residents wouldn’t be particularly happy about a lingerie store popping up out of nowhere.
My own parents were among those who’d hate the store’s existence, if they’d known about it.
Fortunately, I was an adult. I no longer needed their permission or their approval, and they didn’t live near Spruce Hill, so they’d probably never find out what I was doing.
After washing their hands of me years ago, I wasn’t even sure they’d care about my shame or salvation anymore.
As far as they—and their church—were concerned, I’d been a lost cause for a long time before I left home.
I’d spent the last ten years working a variety of jobs, scrimping and saving and researching and planning for this moment—ever since getting the hell out of Dodge the minute I heard my parents discussing potential husbands to throw me at after high school.
I’d thought my years of rebellion up to that point would convince them to let me go my own way, but in that moment, I realized I was wrong.
They spent my entire childhood telling me I was sinful, trying to shape me into the kind of woman my mother had become, and I wasn’t about to let some stranger from their church step in to “guide” me the way they wanted.
So I left home immediately after graduation, took a bus to seek out my cousins in Spruce Hill, and moved on with my life—without any contact with my parents.
They might see a lingerie store as further proof I was destined for damnation, but as for me?
I was ecstatic about finally opening Garden of Delights.
The shop would be more than just a retailer for size-inclusive lingerie, it would be a haven for those who needed it.
Addie and I left town together for college, rooming together in the dorms and then sharing an apartment for over a decade in the city, but she’d recently moved back to Spruce Hill to work for a rape crisis center.
When I followed her here to bring this dream to life, she offered to help me out part-time with the store as well as hosting weekly support groups for survivors of sexual assault in one of the back rooms. Her friend and coworker, Monique, would be offering sex ed classes—and the occasional sex toy party, since she was a sales rep for Pleasure Players, a company that sold all kinds of fun accessories that went well with the shop’s theme.
“Once Rob is done, I’ll draft up the layout we talked about,” Addie said as she pulled me down the sidewalk.
I’d scored a prime parking spot just in front of the shop, so we bundled up and walked down Main Street to get lunch. Parallel parking was not my forte, but hopefully my parking luck would continue. That was the only downside to this particular location—no parking lot.
However, it was also a big factor in the significantly lower rent than the other places I’d scoped out further into town.
“Do you think we’ll need to replace the whole carpet?”
The calculations running through my head were not promising if that was the case. Not only would that cut into my budget for getting the store up and running, it might mean weeks more in delays.
The rent was low, but not that low. Every day I spent waiting would cut into my savings—every dollar I wasn’t earning with the shop was one that might mean the difference between affording my own place and having to accept Adelaide’s offer to share the loft above her parents’ garage, which she’d moved into when she returned to town.
We’d lived together long enough for me to value my new one-bedroom apartment in Spruce Hill, even if it was on the dumpy side. Finally moving forward meant I did not want to take a step back.
“Nope,” Addie replied brightly. “I’ve got it all sorted, don’t worry. We’ll position the counter so it hides that corner. Rob found a scrap of that same carpeting anyway. It’ll be totally disguised.”
I adored my cousin, and one of my favorite things about her was the way she spoke about anything she was invested in.
Her voice was as effervescent as her personality, like the embodiment of pink bubblegum.
With pale blonde hair to my dark brown and her extra four inches in height, we didn’t look related at first glance, but she was the one who’d introduced me to pin-up style makeup and retro dresses.
We were as close as siblings, without the bickering.
Or, in the case of my actual brother, without the shared religious trauma that made communication pretty much impossible.
“My mom has been talking up the store to all of her friends,” Addie continued. “You’re probably going to be swamped with middle-aged housewives right off the bat. I told her she doesn’t get commission for those sales, but she doesn’t care. She’s like a one-woman ad campaign.”
A fond smile tugged at my lips. “I hope she knows how much I appreciate her support. And yours.”
Addie winked and formed a heart with her hands. “Love you, babe.”
Growing up, Addie and Rob had been my best friends and greatest champions, even though I didn’t move to Spruce Hill for good until six months ago.
My cousins and their parents, Aunt Jocelyn and Uncle Mike, kept me from floundering through tumultuous times at home when I was a kid.
Even now, with the store, they were my biggest cheerleaders, always ready to come to the rescue.
Someday, I hoped to return the favor.
We ordered our sandwiches and sat at a little table in the front corner to eat them, mostly because I couldn’t stomach the thought of taking them back to the store until Rob had proven successful in his endeavors. The ammonia smell was enough to put me off food completely.
After my first bite, my gaze caught on a woman standing on the sidewalk across the street, staring at the cafe like she could see straight into my soul.
She was dressed like my mother—a long denim skirt paired with a blouse that covered every inch of skin from neck to wrist—and her expression an all-too-familiar mix of righteous hellfire and condemnation.
I froze, my heart plummeting into my now-queasy stomach, until my cousin’s voice broke my concentration. When I glanced outside again, the woman was gone. Maybe she’d just been a figment of my imagination.
Just thinking about my parents had me jumping at shadows.
“So, two weeks until the grand opening?” Addie asked around a mouthful of tuna salad.
Shaking off the weird moment, I very pointedly finished chewing before responding. “If all goes well, yes. Is that enough time to get the word out?”
“Absolutely. Eden, you’re going to knock this out of the park.
I feel it in my bones. Monique’s already got two parties booked, I have at least a handful of ladies signed up for my first group meeting date on the calendar, and you know everybody who walks through that door is going to buy something.
I’ve seen the stuff you ordered, it’s all hot. ”
I knew all of that, but it was much more convincing hearing it out of my cousin’s mouth. “You’re right. It’ll be great.”
“And you’ll still be able to get to badass class?”
Choking on my bite of sandwich when a laugh burst out of me, I nodded.
I’d started taking Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu several months ago, partly because a friend of ours had been mugged during a girls’ weekend trip to the city and partly because I needed an outlet while my dream of opening the store was still up in the air, ephemeral and just out of reach.
I’d enjoyed the four-week session so much that I kept at it, even when I had to trade working shifts at their front desk in order to afford classes.
“Yeah, but I’m taking some time off before and after we open, just until we get into a good flow. I still think you should join me at class when I go back. You’d like it.”
“I do like the idea of being as badass as you,” she mused.