Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Lola
You’re mad.
I’m picking you up from a police station, Lola. I’m more than mad.
I didn’t know who else to call.
- Conversation between Lola, age 17, and Roman, age 24
I’m sitting cross-legged in the middle of the shop, my eyes closed as I play my mantra like a hit song in my head.
“I can do hard things,” I say the words under my breath, visualizing the shell of the hardware store transforming into my dream coffee shop.
“I can do hard things. I can do hard things.”
Feet scuff to a stop beside me. “Uh, Lola, can you maybe do hard things somewhere that’s not the middle of the space you hired me to renovate?”
I blink my eyes open and crane my neck to look at Henry, my contractor. His long hair is tied in a low ponytail and held back by a light blue bandana. Awkward amusement glimmers in his eyes.
He’s thin as a pine tree but his biceps bulge as he holds the wood for the coffee bar on his shoulder. “So, uh, what do you think about that whole moving out of the way thing? I mean you’re the boss so it’s up to you but…”
“Right, sorry!” I hop up and clear his path.
Henry arrived on the dot at eight this morning and he’s already cleared the old shelving units out and cut the wood for the coffee bar that’s going to run along either side of the door and look out through the glass shop front.
He’s great and the only reason I can afford him is because he’s twenty-two and just starting out. It was a risk, but he’d showed me the work he’d done on his and his fiancée’s apartment, including this adorable castle crib he’d made for his future baby girl, and I’d fallen in love.
I move out of his way and join Skyler over by what was formerly the check out.
The design plans for the coffee shop are spread out on the counter alongside an inventory of the stock we’ll need.
Skyler runs through the list, comparing prices from different wholesalers for the small selection of pastries I want to stock.
I already know who I’m getting my coffee from because I made a deal with the Oliviera brothers while I was staying in Brazil. It was from their shop that Scott got that first cup of coffee which set me on this whole path.
I hop up onto the counter and look out at my shop. Henry is measuring for the bar, a pencil gripped between his teeth. We helped him pull up the flooring this morning, so dust and debris still litter the space, but it already looks better without the old, gray linoleum.
I gaze at the large piece of driftwood leaned up against the wall, ready for the shop name to be burned into it and butterflies flutter in my stomach. I can’t believe this is actually happening. I spent years drawing up plans for this business and now it actually exists, right in front of me.
Skyler plants her elbow on the counter and rests her chin in her hand. “No, you go ahead and daydream while Henry and I do all the hard work, it’s really no problem.”
The corner of my lip curls up. “I got told off for meditating in the construction space.”
Skyler flicks her French braid over her shoulder and turns back to the laptop. “Well, try a little harder. If you master levitation, you won’t be in the way as much.”
“Funny. If you master how to talk to your boss, you won’t get fired as much.”
She sticks her tongue out at me and turns the laptop so I can see the screen. “What about this one? She’s not wholesale but she’s local so could hand deliver and we only want a small amount, right?”
I lean over and look at the cute pink and white website. Mouth-watering photos of handmade croissants and muffins are displayed below the site name, Maddy’s Bakes.
“Those look incredible. Remind me why I skipped breakfast?”
“Because you moved into a storage room which didn’t come pre-stocked with groceries and you’re too lazy to go shopping.”
My mouth drops open. “I have things to do,” I protest.
“Like talk to Jarred about buying his apples?”
I jump off the counter and drum my fingers against my leggings. “I’m getting to that.”
“No, you’re procrastinating. It’s a good deal, he’ll go for it.” Skyler picks up her phone. “You visit Jarred, I’ll call Maddy and hold down the fort with Henry.”
She’s right. I’ve been putting it off all morning but that is not how responsible, independent businesswomen deal with their problems.
I bury my nerves and pick up the purple folder with my business plan in it.
“Okay, I’m going.” I hold up my hands and walk backwards towards the door.
“Duck,” Skyler says, not looking up from the laptop.
“What? Oh—” I duck down just in time to miss getting whacked in the head as Henry turns around with a large level. He stares at me, his eyes wide and light brown skin pale.
“Oops.” I smile at him and back out of the shop. Maybe it’s a good idea for me to get out of the way.
I step out onto Main Street and tie my hair up in a ponytail. It’s late summer and we’re having a mini heatwave, so it feels good to get my long hair off my neck.
I check behind me to make sure I’m not going to walk into anything else then turn back to look at the front of my shop.
Gregor’s old sign still stretches above the windows but it’s coming down later today.
Pride swells in my chest. I have a space on Main Street.
I’ve been all over the world but this road in Pine Rock, with its old red brick buildings and striped shop awnings, is one of my favorite places. And I have a shop on it.
Skyler catches me staring and shoos me away through the window.
I roll my eyes but get on my way.
I spent so many years traveling I was never in one place long enough to learn to drive, so I walk to Jarred’s place.
It’s not far, only about a ten-minute walk past the colorful clapboard houses that spring off from Main Street and then down the road that runs parallel to Surfer’s Bay.
There’s no sidewalk on the last stretch so I’m walking along the carpet of pine needles on the edge of the road when an old rusting pickup comes speeding towards me.
A couple of guys are sitting in the bed of the truck, leaning over the edge and hollering, beer cans in hand.
I shake my head and look away because I was stupid as a kid, but I was never that stupid. But then the truck swerves, veering towards me.
I rear back, tripping over the sand bank and landing on my ass just as the truck’s tires flatten the space I was standing.
My heart races in my throat.
Laughter drifts on the air as the truck straightens up and carries on down the road.
What. The. Fuck.
I collapse back on the bank, the heat of the sand sinking into me as the adrenaline leaves my system.
When I’m no longer shaking, I retrieve my folder and stand up.
There’s sand in places I really didn’t want to have sand when I’m pitching my big idea to a potential business partner, but I dust myself off as best I can and walk the rest of the way to Jarred’s.
By the time I get there, my nerves about talking to Jarred have made friends with the shock from almost being run over and the pair are ganging up on me. My heart squeezes hard and my hand shakes.
I stop at the end of the drive to Jarred’s and take a moment to compose myself.
I spent a fair amount of time at the North house for various parties when I was in school. Ones Hux threw and Jarred shut down.
The Old Farm House, as everyone calls it, is as gorgeous as I remember. The apple orchard backs onto the property and neat rows of trees trail off into the distance like lollipops on either side of the house.
The deep blue siding makes me think of the sea and late summer nights sitting out on the wrap-around porch, drinking cheap beer and chatting about crushes.
I only ever had one crush even if none of my friends knew who he was. I used to date other boys, just to see if it would make my feelings go away, but I stopped that after the last party Hux threw.
God that night feels like a lifetime ago, but now I’m here, the memory filters back.
Hux looks down at me from where he’s sprawled on the porch swing, a solo cup in hand. “You know you’re kind of beautiful.”
“Uh huh, and you’re kind of drunk.”
Hux grins. “Gotta have fun while I can before Jarred comes and ruins everything with all his responsibilby- responsah-bil-it-y.” He sounds the word out to stop from slurring.
I swipe his drink off him and take a sip.
“At least you only have one annoying, holier-than-thou older brother lecturing you.” I love that Roman’s in my life, but I don’t want him treating me like the little sister he has to keep out of trouble.
I take another swig of the sweet alco-pop because lately that feels like all I’ll ever be and maybe if I get drunk enough, I can crush on someone else for a change.
That night ended badly. Someone called the cops on us, and I found myself in lock-up. The only person I could bring myself to call was Roman and the lecture I got on growing the hell up was enough to put a damper on my more wild streak. Until my eighteenth, at least.
I shake the memories away. I’m not a teenage girl anymore, I’m a grown-ass woman, with a grown-ass business plan.
I step up onto the porch, eyeing the cute white bench swing with envy.
I try not to think about all the work I have to do in my apartment.
Henry is contracted for the coffee shop, but I didn’t have enough money to hire him for the apartment too, so my plan is to DIY it.
And bribe Skyler into helping me with the promise of more apple fries.
I ring the bell and step back from the door, hugging the purple folder to my chest. It took me nine months to finalize the business plan with countless rounds of back and forth between my tutor and I to make it what it is today.
The plan is strong, I know that, but my heart kicks at my ribs like it’s a taekwondo specialist.
Footsteps sound on the other side of the door before it opens. Jarred tilts his head, his brows furrowing. “Lola?”