6
LILYBUDS AT LAST
Girls, you’re here! Look at you three!” Sharmin Aunty said as we came in. “So fashionable. My customers are going toloveyou. I hope you had a pleasant walk.”
I put on my smile, ready to lay on all the praise for Bakewell, but I didn’t really have to. I forgot I had Gia the Positive with me.
“It was lovely!” Gia said. “This town is not just cute, butcu-ute. So picturesque. I can’t wait to check out the little shops and restaurants! The bookstore was just darling!”
Sharmin Aunty chuckled at Gia, then turned to me. “What about you, Tahira? What did you think of Bakewell?”
“I think this is going to be an awesome place to live, Sharmin Aunty.” I was pretty proud of that enthusiasm, to be honest. It sounded real, at least to my ears.
“It’s a wonderful little town. Tourists will start invading heavily next week; then it will really pick up. And you don’t have to call me Sharmin Aunty here. Everyone calls me Shar. You too, Gia. I’m Shar, okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
“Excellent.” Sharmin Aunty—Shar—nodded. “Why don’t you three look around a bit while I finish this paperwork. Then I’ll give you the grand tour and train you on the computer. Sound good?”
We split up to look around Lilybuds. After a few minutes, I was just as underwhelmed as when I’d first peeked in the window. Walls painted boring beige. Gray, industrial carpeting. And the clothes? Yeah, the stock was clearly leaning into either the Sunday-church crowd or the new-age-hippie crowd. Except with more flowers. Because this was Bakewell—flowers were a given.
Shar’s official tour took about five minutes. Stockroom in the back, small bathroom. And the selling floor.
“I usually showcase merchandise by color,” she said, “but I like to change out the front stock often. Like these.” She held up a long, daisy-printed skirt. “I’ve had them since April, but I sold three yesterday because I moved them here with the yellow tops.”
I nodded. She didn’t need to tell me about the power of merchandising.
Gia flipped through some dresses on a rack. “Do you sell any, you know, casual stuff? Streetwear?” she asked.
Shar looked confused, so I elaborated. “Denims, maybe some cords, graphic tees? Urban looks?”
Shar shook her head. “I carry primarily dresses and skirts. Florals do well because that’s why people come to Bakewell. No jeans or T-shirts, other than the festival T-shirt.”
“I heard they’re not doing a festival shirt this year,” Juniper said.
“Really?” Shar asked. “Why not?”
Juniper shrugged. “Not enough people bought them last year. The BFF logo is kind of lame. The art is, like, from 1988 or something.”
I raised a brow. “BFF?”
“Bakewell Flower Festival. Mom said the acronym predates texting, so we can’t complain.”
Gia snorted. “But who even says ‘BFF’ anymore, anyway?”
Exactly. I tried not to roll my eyes.
It didn’t matter what I thought about Bakewell or Lilybuds—I was here for a purpose. I pushed my hair behind me and mentally got towork on the reason I’d been hired—to rebrand Lilybuds. “I’m excited to get started with the changes to the store. There’s this exclusive line out of Copenhagen we should look at—I think it’s going to be a big deal next year.”
“Ooh, Søren Anker! Good call, T,” Gia said. “They have this bag that—”
Shar put her hand up. “Copenhagen! Heavens! I’m sure that’s not right for my little shop.”
“Oh, are you trying to keep to Canadian lines?” I asked. “That’s cool. Buy local and all that. Nilusha Bhatt might work. What are the price points you’re looking at? Maybe we can get her to make an exclusive capsule collection.” I pulled out my phone. I could use my connection here. This would be great for Shar and Bakewell as a whole.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Tahira,” Shar said. “I’m happy you’re here to help me choose some new pieces and freshen up a bit, but I’m not looking to change suppliers. I’ve built good relationships with my wholesalers, and they have a large selection. We could bring in new hats!”
Hats? I looked over to a rack near the counter that already contained hats. Straw ones, with flowers on the brim.
