I saw my teeth across my bottom lip. I guess there’s no harm in him making a site if it’s going to help him out. But it’s pretty damn arrogant of him to just sweep in here and expect me to fall on my knees in gratitude.
Myles pulls up a stool at the end of the counter, opening his laptop. And as he begins to type away, I feel myself start to soften. Even though I’m a little annoyed he’s here when I told him I didn’t want his help, I’m also kind of impressed.
And—okay, I’ll admit—alittlegrateful.
“Fine,” I say, picking up my sandwich again. “Just don’t get in my way.”
He gives me a look.
“And… thanks,” I mumble.
He asks me to write down my login details so he can access the site. But once he loads the old site again, he grimaces. “I’m going to start from scratch. Is that okay?”
I nod, feeling a wry smile twist my mouth. Our old site is awful—I’m not surprised he wants nothing to do with it.
We sit in silence for a while, me eating and him banging away on his keyboard. A few customers come and go, but no one buys anything.
“You’re not working today?” I ask.
He shakes his head without looking up.
“Why’d you come here to do this, anyway?”
“I don’t know anything about you or your business. I don’t know your branding, your message. I can’t create a site if I don’t know anything.”
My branding, my message.
The words sift through to my brain and I sag. “Actually… there’s a chance I might lose the store.”
Myles stops typing and raises his gaze to mine. “Really? Why?”
“Because…” I hesitate. Why did I tell him that? Ah, what does it matter? He’s probably already got the gossip from Cory, anyway. “I can’t afford the new rent, as I’m sure Cory told you.”
He gives a little nod.
“I’m in a bit of debt,” I admit with a cringe. “I made a bad business decision a few months back.”
Myles spies the sewing machine over my shoulder. “You said you make clothes?”
“Yeah.” I gesture to the rack behind him with my designs. “Those are mine.”
He turns in his seat, taking a second to look at a couple. “They’re awesome. Why don’t you have more of those and less of the vintage stuff?”
“My own designs have always been more of a hobby. Mark—my ex—told me it didn’t make financial sense to prioritize them, because there’s more money in vintage stuff.”
“And you believed him?”
“Well… he had experience in business.” I look down at my hands. “I just loved to sew.”
Myles glances at my dresses again, then lets his gaze wander out across the store, saying nothing.
The truth is, I’d love to do more with my designs—I was thrilled when Mel’s friend agreed to stock them in her store a few months back. That’s why I jumped at the chance without taking the proper precautions. That’s why I’m in this mess.
“Anyway, my accountant told me I need to increase sales by twenty percent if I want to make the new rent while still paying off my debt. And that’s just to scrape by. It’s not exactly how I imagined my business—struggling to make ends meet.”
“Yeah.” His face creases with sympathy. “That’s rough.”
Unease scratches at my insides—like it usually does when people pity me—and I force a bright smile. “Doesn’t matter. Everything happens for a reason, right? I’ll move onto other things.”
