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For a whole half second, I’m jealous.Why her? Why not me?We share the same DNA, right?
But then my eyes land on the display of hand creams. The one missing a couple of jars from yesterday’s teenage crime spree. And I’m painfully reminded that cosmetics are the most stolen retail item in North America. A fun little tidbit I picked up in my old job. However, big-box retailers, like my former employer, have resources to cover shrinkage. An organized high school crime ring could sink a small store like Wilde Beauty.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I say accidentally out loud to Dax, who has been worrying about this stuff for years. “There’s just so much that can go wrong,” I clarify.
There’s a longer-than-normal beat before Dax answers. “You’re right. Owning a place like this isn’t easy on the heart.”
I look around again, weighing the loveliness of Wilde Beauty against the boulder that has taken up residence in my gut since I first walked into this place. “I don’t know if it’s worth it….”
“Well…” Dax pushes open the door to my store, holding out his hand to me. “As the treasurer of the James Street Small Business Association, I feel as though it’s my sworn duty to tell you about all the cool things that come with the deal. If you have a few minutes, I’ll show you the best one.”
—
It takes mea full block before I realize where he’s taking me. And when he pushes open the door, and the smell of roasting coffee beans floods my senses, I wonder if the high is my body anticipating the caffeine buzz or the fact that maybe…just maybe, Aunt Livi’s idea worked and I manifested this moment.
Brewski’s has always been our spot.
“So the best part of owning a store is coffee?” I ask as he steps into the line and motions for me to take the spot in front of him.
“And being the boss. Opening up a few minutes late because caffeine always takes priority.”
This fact I agree with. My workday mornings in my other life are usually so filled with meetings that my coffee gets cold before I can finish it.
“Good coffee is a perk. But I’m still not sold on the rest of it.”
Dax thinks for a moment. “If you’re not won over by the coffee, I might be in trouble. The only other perks I’ve got left are complete artistic license over your work and being the one who benefits from the long hours, instead of some suit in a corner office. Plus, no one ever argues when you show up in shorts.”
I snort at that last one, but Dax makes a point. There is something satisfying about knowing that when the grind is long and hard, you’re doing it for yourself. But it’s not the hard work that freaks me out.
“I get what you are saying, but what I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around are the what-ifs. Like what if I wake up tomorrow, and something bad that’s completely out of my control happens, like a flood or a hurricane or, please don’t hate me for saying it, another pandemic. Not only could I lose Wilde Beauty, but I could lose everything else. My savings. My ability to make rent.”My security.
“You’re right.” Dax slowly nods. “It can feel heavy at times. It’s just…” He runs his hands through his hair. “All of the very best things in my life have come when I’ve saidfuck itand listened to that feeling in my gut that tells methis is right. It doesn’t always make sense at the time, but I have to think that sometimes it’s worth taking a leap of faith.”
The smile on his face makes the heaviness inside me dissolve. Dax has always loved owning Kicks. It’s his baby. His soul. And part of me wants what he has. The ability to ignore the what-ifs and focus on only the what could be’s.
The coffee line moves, shifting us up so we’re the next ones in line.
The woman in front of us has a stroller the size of a small Buick, so when she spins it around, I have to take a quick step back. The action throws me off balance, and I worry I’m going to fall until I feel Dax’s fingers on my hips steadying me.
“Thanks,” I tell him, suddenly aware that the line logistics are leaving nothing more than a small span of air between our two bodies. It’s a feeling that intensifies as he leans forward, bending so his mouth is level with my ear, close enough that I can smell his morning shower still lingering on his skin.
“You know I’m going to judge you on your coffee order.”
He’s joking. Well, maybe 10 percent serious. But it makes me stop and consider. Why not try something different? I’ve been ordering the same drink since I was sixteen. Maybe the Gemma who has sexy one-night-stands and isn’t afraid to start her own store orders something wild.
Snake appears at the counter. “Hey, Gemma, want your usual this morning?”
“Actually, no.”Fuck it. I’m listening to my gut.“I’m going to take a wild leap and order an oat milk Americano misto.”
Snake doesn’t comment on my drink order other than to tell me I owe him seven dollars and fifty-three cents.
Dax, however, gives me a funny smile. “Make it two.”
“What is your usual?” he asks as we wait for our coffee.
“Oat milk latte.”
Dax’s eyes flick to the barista making my drink, then to me. “Isn’t that the same as a misto but with more milk?”
