Chapter 10 #2
“I…” For a second Jenna couldn’t speak. She managed a laugh, barely.
“Okay, you might have a point there,” she finally said.
She felt almost unbearably raw, like he’d scraped off a layer of skin with his words.
For a second, the painful memories rushed through her—loving Ryan so desperately, with a kind of frantic hunger that never signified anything healthy or good, changing everything about herself to be what she thought he’d wanted her to be—her clothes, her hair, her laugh —being told she still wasn’t good enough, and never would be, and not only that, but she was ridiculous to think she ever could be—that he would ever see her that way.
It all came back in a horrifying, humiliating rush, causing her eyes to sting and her stomach to churn. She found she couldn’t manage any more words, and so she just shook her head, her gaze on her plate and the barely touched risotto.
“Jenna.” Jack leaned over and covered her hand with his own, warm and dry and strong. Jenna liked the feel of it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so… brutal. I suppose I’m still used to the corporate world. Cutthroat, remember?”
“You weren’t brutal, just honest.” She found she had to squeeze the words through her throat.
“I appreciate that. And you know what?” Her voice wobbled, and she forced herself to look up at him, even though her eyes were swimming with tears.
“You’re right. I have equated the store with myself in a way that I can see is unhealthy and hard to explain.
” At least not without going into her romantic history, which she really didn’t want to do right now.
Zach had guessed a little of it, it was true, but he hadn’t skeweringly psychoanalyzed her the way Jack just had.
She brushed at her eyes. “I’d tell you why I’ve been doing that, but I’m holding on to my composure by a thread as it is, and I really hate crying in front of people, so… ”
“Oh, Jenna.” His voice sounded almost tender, along with low and rumbly, and Jenna decided Zoe had been right.
It was a very sexy voice, not that she was thinking that way now.
She was really, really just trying not to cry, because that would be seriously embarrassing.
It was embarrassing enough that he knew how close she was to it.
“Anyway.” With what felt like superhuman effort, she drew in a ragged breath and managed to blink the tears from her eyes. Crisis averted… for now. “If you were going to suggest some changes to the store, and assume that I would be willing to make them… what would they be?”
Jack nodded slowly, seeming willing to take this conversational route, which was a relief. She could deal in practicalities. Hopefully.
“You identified some challenges,” he began, his gaze narrowing in thought.
He’d removed his hand from hers and stupidly, she found she missed it.
“The quickness and convenience of online deliveries, and the fact that your store can’t stock everything, so people will have to shop elsewhere, as well.
Those are significant, although not insurmountable. ”
“They aren’t?”
“I think you need to decide what you want Miller’s Mercantile to be.” He met her gaze directly, and the icy blueness of his eyes made her feel like shivering. “You could go the gift shop route, with candles and blankets and overpriced kitsch, but I wouldn’t advise it.”
Jenna couldn’t keep a gurgle of laughter from escaping her. “That was Zach’s advice. He wants it to be all artisanal, a place for local craftsmen and carpenters. And yes, with candles.”
“I think his furniture business could do that very well,” Jack agreed without missing a beat.
“But general stores that don’t actually sell anything useful are a dime a dozen around here, I’m afraid, or at least in Litchfield County.
Overpriced everything for city slickers like me, who want a candle or some cute sign to remember their jaunt in the country. ”
“So…” She cocked her head, waiting for more.
“I like that you want a store that is useful,” he told her.
“With plenty of grocery staples. But at the moment, you’re missing a lot of staples.
And the space is big enough that you could provide everything a local needs, or almost, and at reasonable prices.
And there would be still enough space to offer something a little extra for the out-of-towner—an olive bar, or a buffet station, or a coffee kiosk, or all three.
You don’t get a lot of foot traffic here, but this is the road out to Winsted.
There’s no reason why you couldn’t entice some cars to turn in, to take a break, if you advertised it well. ”
It sounded obvious when he said it, but Jenna hadn’t considered appealing to people traveling to somewhere else, only the residents and local tourists.
And the attempts she’d made to do something different hadn’t worked out…
although admittedly she hadn’t given any of them a wholehearted effort.
It was a lot to think about. “I’m not getting those cars at the moment,” she told him.
“Because you’re not trying.” Even though she’d basically acknowledged the same thing to herself, Jenna couldn’t help but wince, and Jack noticed.
“I’m not being mean, just honest,” he reminded her as he filled up both their wineglasses.
“The sign out front is ancient, and the wood looks rotten. The broken gas pump and the old sofa on the porch are basically functioning as ‘Stay Away’ signs for any tourist, never mind a discerning one. And while the store itself has a lot going for it—a certain rustic charm, shall we say—you’re not capitalizing on it at the moment.
At all. It’s like you’re daring people to come in and accept the store as it is, rather than enticing them to a retail experience they’ll enjoy.
It’s got a definite ‘take me as I am or screw you’ kind of vibe, and that generally doesn’t appeal to people, especially people who want to buy things. ”
There was a hint of gentle humor in his voice, and Jenna tried to smile, even though it was starting to feel personal again.
Very personal. And yet she knew he was right.
The resistance to changing the store wasn’t actually about the store at all.
It was about her. About how she’d changed herself inside out for a person once and she never wanted to do it again.
How messed up was that, and also… how had she not fully realized that before? How had a man she barely knew seen something she’d been so blind to herself? Deliberately blind, and maybe that was the reason why she hadn’t seen it.
“Have I overstepped?” Jack asked, sounding wry as well as regretful. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You have some good ideas.” Jenna took a sip of wine.
“And you’re right, the store could definitely use a major refresh.
I might take some new ideas on board, although putting in a coffee kiosk and an olive bar…
” She shrugged. “I don’t have the financial resources for any major change, I’m afraid.
” It was a little humbling to admit that to someone who was obviously not strapped for cash.
For a millisecond, she thought Jack might offer to loan or maybe even give her some money, and Jenna tensed, readying herself for a polite but firm refusal.
She was not about to become his charity case.
But then he sat back, his wineglass cradled in his hand and simply said, “You could always get a small business loan. There are some banks that have initiatives particularly for rural regeneration. I’ve looked them up, and I could forward you some links. ”
Relief coursed through her; that had been an awkward moment she was glad to avoid. “Thank you,” she said, meaning it, because already Jack had gone above and beyond for her. “I’d appreciate that.”
He smiled, and it felt like things were easing between them; she wasn’t going to cry, and he wasn’t going to offer her money. Good.
As for what the rest of the evening held… Jenna had no idea. What had happened so far had already wrung her out completely.