After all this time, the person I have to thank most wasn’t there to see me close down my first store.
Eric, despite the sharp turn our relationship took while still in its infancy, did more to turn things around for me than anyone. He gave me the courage to sit back and accept help and, despite the fact that I still think the plus section would have looked better indented a little further into the ground, the work he did inside the store and outside of it really took things to a place I didn’t think they could go.
It’s a shame he couldn’t make it to the closing today.
That being said, he’s got a lot of work to do.
I walk into the nearly complete building and, even though I’ve been through these doors dozens of times now, I’m still taken aback by the size and the brilliance of the new store.
José almost runs over me as he’s helping one of his guys move a large display stand.
“Have you seen Eric?” I ask.
José still never says more than a few words at a time to me. I think he’s still holding onto some lingering fear that I’m going to have him fired for breaking into my first store.
“He’s in the back,” José says and keeps going, telling his worker to speed it up, that they haven’t got all day.
So, I make my way to the back of the new store, dodging Ian as he tosses what I can only hope is a shelled pistachio nut over twenty feet into an electrician’s mouth.
“Is Eric back here?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Ian answers and then dodges to the left with his mouth wide open, but misses the poorly thrown return volley. “Last I saw, he was back near swimwear.”
“Thanks,” I tell him and quickly move out of the way so the two can continue cluttering up the floor of my otherwise pristine new building.
Eric is crouched down, making sure that a small platform is level.
“Hey, could I talk to you a minute?” I ask.
He turns around and stands, brushing his mid-length hair away from his eyes.
“Yeah,” he says. “Just give me a minute to finish checking this. I don’t know if it’s my level or what, but this section right here is off-center.”
“It can wait,” I tell him. “Come with me, please.”
He leaves the level behind and follows me back to what will be my office when the new store finally opens.
“How are we doing on cost?” I ask.
“Well, your last-minute changes have driven things up a bit, but I don’t think we’re going to end up too far above what we’d originally talked about,” he answers.
“Will you close the door?” I ask.
“Sure,” he says and kicks the door closed.
Before the door is latched, our arms are around each other and I’m pressing into his firm chest, kissing him deeply on the lips.
When I pull away, he’s smiling.
“How did it go closing up over there?” he asks.
“Not too bad,” I tell him. “It was a bit rough saying goodbye to the old place, but with all the volume we’re moving, it just wasn’t going to work keeping it open.”
“You know,” he says, “if you weren’t such a major control freak, you could have left the other store open and just let someone else run it.”
“Oh, shut up,” I scoff and hit him playfully on the chest.
“What did you want to talk to me about, boss?”
“You know,” I tell him, “we’re getting married tomorrow. I really think you can start calling me by my name from now on.”
“Eh,” he shrugs, “while we’re at work, you’re the boss and don’t pretend like that doesn’t turn you on a little.”
He’s right about that.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks.
“Well,” I start, “first off, Linda wanted to know if you’re going to be able to pick up Jessica tonight.”
“Yeah,” he says. “She just called. I told her I’d swing by just as soon as I’m off work. I was thinking we could take her to the park tonight.”
“Cool,” I say. “Now, I know we’re running out of time and everything, but I’ve been looking at pictures of some of the more modern clothing stores, and there are a few things I’d like to implement before the paint is dry. I know the schedule is tight, but I really think we can get this done and it’s going to look so much better.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams