Chapter Twenty-Six
Jesse
I can tell within seconds that something is wrong. It’s been almost two weeks since our dinner with my father and her mother and I made some important life announcements. Fourteen days of domesticated life that I can safely say I’ll never get tired of.
Over the past two weeks, I’ve helped her at the store, gone shopping with her for furniture, and even played nice with Dane—who really does seem like a good guy—when he’s come by with his crew with all the wood and tools that they need to put together shelves.
It seems like everything has been moving smoothly, yet I can tell something is wrong.
I step in front of her, snapping her out of her thoughts. “What’s wrong, Bells?”
Her thumbnail is in her mouth, chewing at the yellow nail polish she’d put on them last night while we watched a Fast and Furious movie. Well, I watched it. She was focusing on her nails and the mental to-do list taking up residence in her head.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, wiping her hand off on her thigh and sighing.
“Rae came by this morning when I first got here and told me there was some pushback happening with the other store owners. Apparently ‘they’ are threatening to go to the board with their concerns hoping to stop the approval for my food permit.”
My brows furrow. “Why would they do that? Who’s complaining? Is it the woman who looked like somebody ran over her dog?”
She makes a face. “Ew. Don’t say that. It makes me feel bad for the hypothetical dog.
” Rolling her shoulders, she brushes off whatever thought she’s having.
Probably about the dog and not the woman who’s sour for no real reason.
“It is Karen who’s starting things, but Rae mentioned she made one or two other owners concerned that it could be bad for their cafes because it’s competition on the street.
The nearest café is a block away, not on the main drag.
And I won’t be offering meals, just light snacks.
I could have sworn I mentioned that in my presentation when I was asked what food I planned on serving and if I’d need a liquor license after mentioning after hours book clubs. ”
“Do we know why she’s acting out?”
She rolls her neck, like there’s tension coiled there. “Karen doesn’t like me. For a lot of reasons. I thought it was just being an outsider, but not that long ago she said—” She stops talking, pressing her lips together and wincing.
My eyes narrow. “She said what?”
Belle shakes her head. “Never mind.”
Now I need to know. “What did she say?”
I can tell she doesn’t want to tell me, but whatever it is has been eating at her. And if it’s something I can help her with, I want to.
Eventually, Belle tugs me into the back of the café and away from Dane and his men currently working on the opposite end of the store.
“She made a comment about our relationship being inappropriate. And she thinks I’ve been using this relationship to get things.
I know she doesn’t know me, but it makes me angry that everything I’ve worked for could be put on hold because one person is making stupid assumptions. ”
“The board can’t put a pause on anything you’re doing because of personal feelings.
As long as you follow code and policy, none of what she thinks or says matters.
You know you’ve worked your ass off. Besides helping you paint and move stuff around I’ve barely had a hand in anything.
She has no evidence to back those claims. She’s just trying to get a reaction out of you because she can. ”
“Fairbanks is a closeknit community,” she counters matter-of-factly. “And we’re not grandfathered in like everybody else seems to be. If they think that outsiders are out to get them somehow, I don’t know what to do to make them think differently.”
That’s the thing, isn’t it? She can’t do anything but prove them wrong.
“This is a completely different atmosphere than Pittsburgh,” she murmurs, almost defeatedly. “The other businesses nearby didn’t really care what I did.”
The businesses near hers were seedy bars, a strip club, and a twenty-four-seven diner that seemed to attract a certain kind of crowd. Great food, though. But she’s right. This town is a far cry from the city we left behind.
“Then let’s brainstorm a way to include them,” I reason, trying to get her to stop frowning. I hate when she isn’t smiling. It dims her whole face and I want nothing more in the world than to fix it for her.
She drums her fingers against the counter. “I don’t know how. Or if somebody like Karen would care enough to see the effort made. I feel like I could buy the most expensive piece of jewelry she has and—” She stops herself again, this time getting a thoughtful look on her face.
I have a feeling I know what she’s thinking, and I don’t love it. “I don’t think buying her approval is a good idea. People like that love to have something to complain about. It’s their personalities.”
Belle smiles at me for the first time since I got here. “I’m not going to buy her affection. You’re right, it probably wouldn’t work. Or she’d try bleeding me dry. Not worth it.”
So why is she giving me that smile then?
“For opening week, we can do different raffle baskets that are full of different items from different businesses. Or we could do one of those business hops. Kind of like the bar hops I used to do in college, except nobody will go to the hospital to get their stomach pumped.”
I vaguely remember her roommate needing to be transported to the hospital after doing way too many shots during that Christmas hop.
“Although, a hop may be difficult to organize if the owners are skeptical of me. That would mean putting together some sort of deal on their products to lure customers in.” A line forms between her brows as she thinks about it.
“A raffle would be better. I can collect things from different stores, hopefully mostly donated, and it would promote the businesses!”
It isn’t a bad idea, but that would still mean getting items from people. And I doubt donations will be freely handed over, especially by Karen Hardy. “I still vote no to spending any money at her establishment. Why support somebody who won’t support you?”
“Because we aren’t going to stoop to her level,” she says with confidence.
“We’re better than that. I think this could work.
It’ll cross promote other places. Maybe we can even stock some of their products and do monthly features to help build them up if we get the consumer base over time.
They’ll see that I want to work with them, not against them. ”
I can see the determination on her face and agree to do whatever she wants, which is writing down a list of names of people to visit to ask if they want to partner for a raffle over the next few days. I volunteer to go to Hardy’s Jewelers so she won’t need to. Thankfully, she doesn’t argue with me.
The rest of the week goes by a little smoother.
Belle stops by a handful of stores to reintroduce herself and propose her idea, getting a few phone numbers to chat more about it, a couple of yeses, and one maybe.
Nobody has flat out turned down the idea, which tells me Karen Hardy doesn’t have as much pull as she wants to here regardless of how long she’s been in business.
But I call Rae just in case I have any issues dealing with her during my visit. After what she told Belle, I don’t feel like having her twist my words or try using them against me. And Rae told us she’d help deal with her if she tried stirring things up again.
Which is why I find her waiting outside the jewelry store forty minutes after I called her.
“Thank you for coming,” I tell her, holding out my hand. “I appreciate you being willing to help Belle. She really wants the bookstore to do well, and I want her to be happy.”
Rae’s grip is firm. “I always look for an excuse to knock Karen down a few pegs. That woman has gotten on my nerves for far too long. Likes the sound of her own voice too much if you ask me.”
I can tell, but I don’t agree aloud.
The bell on the door chimes when we enter, and Karen Hardy appears from the back with a big smile on her face. Until she sees me. It doesn’t reappear even when Rae follows me in, which isn’t a great sign that she’s changed her attitude.
“Unless you plan on buying something, I have nothing to say to you,” she informs me, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve said plenty to your…friend.”
She sneers the last word, and I don’t like it one bit.
“I’m aware you’ve spoken to her, and I didn’t like what I heard.
You don’t know her. Or me. Or anything about us.
But one thing you’re going to learn very quickly is that Belle is one of the hardest working people I know, and I’ll do anything for her. Include deal with people like you.”
“People like me?”
Before I can get a word another in, and none of them would be particularly kind to describe her, Rae decides to step in.