“I’m excited to work on them. I’ll be in touch.”
I hold the red velvet curtains aside for her, and we step into the front of the shop.
The smell changes.
Lavender and warm vanilla give way to amber and leather.
The bell hanging on the front door jingles as two women leave after Cindy. Laughter trails out after them.
Tess spins to face me. “We sold out of the bullet vibes before noon,” she squeals, hopping in place.
She grabs my arms, shakes me, then hugs me too tightly.
I laugh. “That’s fast for a soft opening.”
Tess twists her hair into a messy bun, a few strands escaping around her face.
No mirror.
No second-guessing.
For someone who lives online, she doesn’t fuss about things like her appearance. She’s just comfortable, however she shows up.
I admire that about her.
“Exactly.” Her hands fall to her hips. “No ads. No announcement. Just friends, friends of friends, and vibes. If this is the warm-up, imagine the grand opening.”
“Busy. It’ll be busy.”
“I told you.”
She did.
Bigger market. Better foot traffic. A fresh start.
She’d pitched spreadsheets and neighborhood stays for weeks during late-night wine arguments.
I told her flat-out I wasn’t moving for a man.
So we didn’t.
We moved for us. Signed the lease, hauled the boxes, and built the shop.
He just... happens to live in the same city... and has no idea I do too.
“Please tell me you’re inviting Cash to the grand opening.” Tess straightens the straps on a lace teddy, then steps back to see the whole display.
“I will.”
She squints at me, fingers moving to straighten the second teddy. “You should’ve invited him today.”
I shrug. “He doesn’t even know I’m here.”
Her eyebrows spike in the air. “You should’ve told him that too.”
She’s been pestering me to do just that since we rolled into town, and I’ve almost blurted it out a dozen times. But every call, he sounded exhausted, buried under prep and permits anda hundred moving pieces. I didn’t want to drop something this big on him between orders.
Not through a screen.
