Chapter Twenty-Four
Grayson
Six months later
I scanned my eyes across the small studio, taking stock of every detail. Small wooden shelves I had installed with Demir held my clearly labeled supplies, and a display of some favorite pieces was set up in the glass window that opened to the rest of the shop. There were a few photos hanging from the wall, and across the back, a large worktable and bench were set up with two dedicated table lamps.
“Perfect,” I whispered to myself.
It was funny how easy it suddenly felt to imagine myself, working in the studio for years, practicing my craft and nurturing my client list. Unlike the old days, when I spent all my time holed up in the apartment alone, talking to no one but Lou, the studio was going to be different. I’d be able to meet clients in person, and when we opened in a couple of weeks, I would be able to wander out to the shop and chat with the people who passed through.
Not to mention at least one very special man was always going to be close by.
“Hello hello!” Marco called out, entering through the front. “You here?”
I popped up in the window to wave, then pushed open the door that divided his part of the building from mine. It was particularly cold and windy out, even for an early spring day in Philadelphia, and Marco had a long pink scarf tied tightly around his neck and a puffy green jacket that hung down to his knees.
“A new order arrived,” he said triumphantly, holding a large box in the air. “Want to check it out with me?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I could take a break from staring at my studio and daydreaming anyway.”
Marco laughed as he plopped the box onto the table, then yanked it open. The shop was about half set up around us, with some small displays completely assembled, including products, sample wares, and a placard that gave some introductory information on the craftspeople behind the objects. Simple, sophisticated lighting and interior design allowed the object themselves to pop, putting all the attention where it belongs.
“Oh, the paper crafts!” I exclaimed. “I love these!”
Marco carefully removed the items, each cut from handmade paper. Mostly a combination of decorative and practical in nature, they ranged from a few three-dimensional pastel greeting cards to small, sleek journals. The real highlight of the bunch, though, and the part of the display Marco expected to be most popular, were the samples of hand-painted, custom wallpaper.
“So chic,” he cooed, holding a strip of the wallpaper in his hands. There were slight golden lines painted on a soft gray background, with the occasional purple rose sketched into the background, almost like a colorful shadow.
“Beautiful,” I agreed.
“I wonder how long until you and the wallpaper ladies get to collaborate on a custom order together?”
“I hope so,” I said, leaning into Marco. “Chances for collaboration came through the craft center every now and then, but there seems to be much more potential here.”
“Thank you again for putting me in touch with Gladys, by the way.”
“She’s great, isn’t she? I think she’s just the right person to fill out the woodworking stock.”
As we kept talking, Marco’s eyes lit up, and he filled me in on all the latest developments in preparation for the opening. For me, shifting over to the new building was as easy to relocating my stock, installing some equipment, and relocating my routine. For Marco, though, the endeavor was a whole new chapter in his life. Over the past months, I’d watched him throw himself into the work with a passion I’d never seen him exhibit at the club. All of the business skills he had picked up over the years came into play, and I knew he kept a shrewd eye on things like overhead and profit margins, but it was clearly the passion for the craftwork and the design that was driving him.
We both leaned up against the desk at the back of the store, and I took Marco’s hand in my own. “I love building this with you,” I said. “And watching the store come together.”
Marco rubbed his hands through his hair, then shook his head back and forth quickly with a laugh. “Wow,” he said. “I knew I wanted this, but I can’t believe how much I love it now that it’s happening. I just hope it’s profitable enough.”
“It will be,” I assured him. “Trust me, I know the craft market in this city pretty damn well. You’re going to be a star.”
“He’s already a star,” Demir said, emerging from the back of the shop.
I turned with a surprise. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
“With how much he’s stomping around?” Alex said, emerging from behind it. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear him coming from a mile away.”
Demir chuckled as he took his jacket off, revealing the casual gray trousers and black sweater beneath. “Alex is just grumpy that I’m not around the club as much as I used to be,” he said.
“I’ll take the quiet,” Alex said with a laugh. “I miss a little about of those Saturday night tips, but with the dance party moving across the street, I’m actually functional on Sundays now.”
“The trials and tribulations of the fabulous,” Marco answered, kissing Alex on the cheek. “I know them well.”
