14. Trinity
Trinity
“Earth to Trinity. Come in, Trinity.” Macy slumped against the back of her chair.
“What?” I glanced up, my attention drawn by the loud huff Macy let out.
“Where are you? I’ve been talking about making plans for your grand opening for the past five minutes.”
“Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” I took a sip of my coffee then set the mug back down on the table.
“I still have a lot to do before I can start planning the opening, you know.” I’d finally spilled my plans to Macy who’d been beyond excited that it looked like I was putting down some sort of roots.
But now all Macy wanted to talk about was the co-op.
“Distracted by something?” Macy leaned forward and snagged a piece of bacon off my plate. “Or maybe someone?”
My head snapped up. When I got home this morning, Macy’s bedroom door had been closed. There was no way she could know I’d spent the night with Oliver.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Better to play it off than admit to anything. I wasn’t ready to talk about the night I’d shared with the buff bartender.
Macy narrowed her eyes. “I think you know exactly who I’m talking about. Is that where you were last night? I know you didn’t come home until this morning.”
“Now you’re spying on me?” I crossed my arms and let out my own huff.
“Sweetie, I’m thrilled for you. It’s about time you got involved with someone.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Someone stable who you can count on for a change.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I scowled. There were definite drawbacks to having someone in my life who knew me as well as Macy did.
“You know what I mean.” When I didn’t respond, she continued. “You always go for the love ‘em and leave ‘em type of guys. The kind who don’t stick around?—”
“That’s not true.”
Macy put her hand on my arm and gave it a slight squeeze. “It is true. Name one relationship you’ve had that’s lasted more than ninety days.”
I slid my arm away. My foot tapped on the tile floor as I racked my brain, trying to come up with a name. I couldn’t.
“See?” Macy shook her head.
She was right. There hadn’t been anyone special in my life. At least no one who lasted longer than a few weeks of fun. But she was wrong about me going for the wrong kind of guy. I was the one who didn’t want to get tied down.
There had been plenty of men who’d tried to get me to commit, to settle down and stick around.
But as soon as they did, I felt their expectations closing in on me.
They wanted to make plans and talk about the future when all I wanted was to play it by ear.
I’d only disappoint anyone who placed their hope in me.
As soon as I sensed that shift from a meaningless fling to something more, I’d hit the road and take off on my next adventure.
Until now.
With the promise to my grandmother hanging over my head and time to claim my trust fund running out, I’d had no choice but to commit to something. But just because I’d decided to take a crack at the co-op didn’t mean I was ready to take on anything more.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I finally managed.
Macy’s brow furrowed.
“Don’t frown. You’re always telling me every time I frown, I make a new wrinkle.” I grinned as Macy rubbed her fingertips over the space between her brows.
“So when can we talk about the grand opening? I can have the mayor come, and one of my co-workers is dating a news anchor for channel eleven?—”
“Stop. I’m nowhere near opening. I still have a ton of clean-up to do inside. Fixtures need to be ordered, and I’ve got to secure some other artists to take space.”
“Just give me a ballpark date range. Come on, I need something to work with.” Macy pulled out her phone. “Two months? Three?”
Sighing, I shook my head. The only way to get Macy off my back would be to give her a date. Otherwise she’d push until she got what she wanted. She’d always been that way. “Fine. October first.”
Macy glanced up, the space between her eyebrows crinkled again. “That’s way too late. You need to open earlier than that if you want to take advantage of holiday shoppers. Seems like they barely take down the Fourth of July decorations before they’re putting up Christmas.”
“Okay. September first. But that’s it.” I wouldn’t admit it, but Macy had a point.
“Great. I’ll start working on invitations.” Macy tapped something into her phone.
“You don’t have to do that, I don’t even have a sign made yet.” It wouldn’t do any good to try to curb Macy’s enthusiasm. Once she added something to her “to do” list it was like it was carved in stone.
“Then we’d better make that first on your list.” Macy tucked her phone back into her purse. “Let’s finish our lunch then you can show me what you’ve done to the place so far.”
I unlocked the front door and stepped aside so Macy could enter the space first. Butterflies flitted through my stomach like they always did when I stepped into the warehouse.
Macy turned in a full circle, her gaze bouncing from the walls to the floor to the countertop.
“So, what do you think?” I asked. “Give it to me straight.” As if Macy would ever be capable of doing anything but telling it like it was. She might turn on the charm for her clients, but she’d never been anything but brutally honest where I was concerned.
“It’s got major potential.” Macy nodded, making her blonde waves bob up and down. “Yeah, this could be fantastic.”
I let out a relieved sigh. Macy’s opinion mattered. Besides my grandmother, who’d been one hundred percent on board with the idea when I first brought it up all those years ago, Macy was the only other person whose support counted.
“What are you going to put up over there?” Macy gestured to a spot on the exposed brick wall where someone must have tried patching a crack at one point.
“I was thinking of hanging a painted canvas or something big enough to cover it up.”
Nodding, Macy stepped farther into the space. “And what’s upstairs?”
“Studio space. Maybe even a room I can turn into an apartment for the time being.”
“You’re going to move in here?” Nose crinkling, Macy turned toward me. “Is it safe?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t had any trouble yet. Besides, Oliver lives in the apartment over the bar.”
“Ah, the bartender I’m not allowed to ask about.”
Heat prickled over my cheeks. I ignored the comment and turned to the counter. “What do you think of the antique bar? I got it from a friend.”
Macy stalked across the room on her heels to run a hand over the wood.
“Nice. I’m picturing a kind of industrial, eclectic vibe.
You’ve got the warmth of the exposed brick, and the wooden beams. Maybe add a little color in that canvas you’re talking about, and you should be in good shape. What are you calling it?”
“Calling what?”
“Your business. Don’t you have a name picked out already?”
“Oh. No, not yet.”
“Seriously, Trin, you’ve got to get your act together if you’re going to make September first. You need a sign, you’ve got to get your social media accounts set up…”
I shook my head. “Stop. One thing at a time. It’s all going to come together.”
“Not without a plan, hon. I’m going to run home and grab my white board for you.”
“No, not the white board.” I’d seen how Macy organized her life down to the millisecond with her stash of dry erase markers and the giant whiteboard she hung on her office wall.
Every color corresponded to a type of task, and Macy could tell exactly where each item stood based on the symbols she drew next to the list.
“If you’re not going to use the whiteboard, you’ve got to do something to get yourself organized.”
I nodded. Macy was right. Again. “Okay. I’ll come up with something. Just promise me you won’t bring the whiteboard into my space. It’ll mess up my juju.”
Macy rolled her eyes. “Fine. For now. But if you don’t get something going in the next few days, I’m bringing the whiteboard and the markers, and I’m going to start a color-coded spreadsheet.”
“Out.” I put my hands on Macy’s shoulders and spun her toward the door. “You can’t say that word in here, it’ll give me hives.”
Laughing, Macy didn’t resist as I nudged her toward the door. “Spreadsheet, spreadsheet, spreadsheet. You’re going to have to embrace it if you want to keep track of inventory and stuff.”
“I need to get to work. Don’t worry about me if I don’t come home tonight. I’ll probably work late on the space. I have some contractors coming tomorrow to take care of a few things and need to make sure I’m ready.”
“You’ll let me know if you need help?” Macy turned around and pulled me into a hug.
“Don’t you have that fundraiser with Mitch tonight?”
“Yeah, but slopping paint with you would be more fun.”
I laughed. “You’d have to go out and buy something to paint in. I don’t think you own anything grubby enough.”
“I could do grubby.” Macy glanced down at her cream-colored capris. “Or maybe sophisticated grunge?”
“Go.” I held the door as Macy brushed by.
“Can I tell you something?” Macy turned, her eyes soft and dewy like she was about to get emotional.
“What?” I cocked a hip.
“I’m so proud of you. And I know your grandmother would be too.” Macy traced a fingertip under her lower lash line, brushing away a stray tear.
I didn’t trust myself to speak. A bubble of emotion had worked its way up through my chest and threatened to burst. Instead, I pointed to the sidewalk.
“I know, I know. But it had to be said.” Macy blew a kiss as she cleared the doorway. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I choked out. Then I pushed the door closed and flipped the lock.
Leave it to Macy to go all teary-eyed on me.
It was true though. Grandma Ryan would have been proud of me.
That thought warmed my heart and caused the tears I’d been holding back to well up and fall.
I wiped the back of my hand across my cheek.
Sharing my plans with Macy made it all so real.
Not that signing a purchase agreement hadn’t been real enough.
But having Macy, the one person who knew me better than anyone else, kind of give her blessing, made me all the more committed to making it work.
But damn, she’d been right about other things too. I needed to get organized. For the first time in my life, I had a goal to work toward—something bigger than myself. If I wanted to succeed, I’d have to embrace some of her suggestions. The whiteboard might be overkill, but I did need a list.
I moved to the counter where I’d left my journal. Opening it to a blank page, I grabbed my pen.
Item number one, come up with a name. I sank to the floor, tucked my feet under me and started to brainstorm.
But before I could write the first name down on the list, someone knocked at the front door.