Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
After Nolan left, Olive walked up the stairs from the store to her apartment. Her husband, Dylan, met her at the door with a big smile. Even though they’d been married for two years, seeing him still gave her a thrill. Olive had known Dylan was the one from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. She was certain they’d be growing old together.
“You said you’d be back in ten minutes,” he said, giving her a hug. “That was nearly an hour ago.”
It was so cute, the way he missed her. “I got caught up doing a few things, and guess what?” She took a step back and fished the hundred-dollar bill out of her pocket. “I sold that pricey outfit in the window. This guy, Nolan, rapped on the glass and said he had to have it.” Olive waved the money triumphantly. “And you said it wouldn’t sell at that price.”
“I honestly didn’t think it would. You were right. You called it.”
Olive had to admit that one of Dylan’s many good traits was his willingness to admit when he was wrong. So many men lacked in that area. “It couldn’t have happened at a better time. We’re coming up short this month.”
“We’re coming up short every month.” He gestured for her to follow him into the kitchen, where she found the table was covered with paperwork, bills, and printouts of spreadsheets. He sat down and shuffled through the papers. “I’ve gone over this a dozen times and can’t see any way we can get out from under. I haven’t gotten any new landscaping jobs, and the store just isn’t doing the volume we need to keep it open.”
Olive’s heart sank. She knew he was right. They were still in their twenties, and both of them had already failed at being entrepreneurs. Against the advice of her parents, she’d gotten married young. Her father had said, “You might feel differently six months from now. Can’t you wait a few years?”
And she’d said, “No, I cannot.” Wait a few years? Why? They were in love. She was as certain as she’d ever be, and Dylan felt the same way. Her parents had also been against her starting her own business, predicting failure before she’d even gotten started. If she had to admit defeat, there would be no help from that direction, and they’d be certain to tell her all the ways she’d screwed up.
Both she and Dylan had made a good go of their respective businesses, and they were open to other moneymaking opportunities as well.
Recently, they’d both signed up to drive for Lyft during their off hours, but they’d only gotten two jobs so far. Clearly, that wasn’t the answer. She pulled up a chair and joined him at the table. “So we have to get regular jobs?” The idea was horrifying. Who wanted to show up at some building day after day, then sit at a desk or behind a cash register doing some kind of dreadful work that would make someone else rich? When they met, they’d both agreed they wanted freedom from a conventional life. Being her own boss was living the dream. And now the dream was dying.
“Not necessarily. We’re both willing to put in the work. This town’s just not big enough to support our businesses.”
“So we move.” She rested her chin on her interlaced fingers.
Dylan nodded. “At least we’re not in debt. Once the lease on the store ends, we can sell all the clothing and jewelry in the shop, and my equipment too, and we’ll come out a little bit ahead.”
“And then what?”
“With our savings, we can rent an apartment somewhere with a larger population. Then we start over.”
“Doing what?”
He shrugged. “Whatever you want. If you don’t want to do retail anymore, we have other options. You love to bake and cook. Maybe we could start a catering company or a small café?”
“I love to cook and bake at home. I don’t want to do it in large quantities for complete strangers.”
“We’ll think of something else, then. It’ll work out. You’ll see. Something always turns up.”
Another one of Dylan’s positive traits: his nonstop optimism. It made being in his presence a complete joy. Olive hoped he was right and that something would turn up. She could tolerate almost anything as long as they were together.