I pause, trying to imagine a world where I’m a casual dater.
I suppose that’s what I’ve been doing, hilariously.
“I don’t want to become one of Miles’s two-dates-and-he’s-out women,” I say. “We’re friends. Good ones, it turns out. And I still don’t have many of those.”
“You have me,” she says. “I’m a great friend.”
I smile. “You are. But I didn’t call you to talk about boys. This is a business call.” I try to put on my most professional voice.
“Oh, okay. Let me shift gears,” she says. Then, lowering her voice, sounding like an announcer, she says, “You’ve reached Lennon. How can I help you?”
I smile at the change in her tone. “The storefront we looked at—did... the chiropractor lease it?” I realize once my question is out that I’m nervous.
Nervous she’ll say no.
More nervous she’ll say yes.
“Let me check,” she says. “Since it wasn’ttechnicallymy listing, I haven’t kept track. But... why?”
“Oh, you know.” I try to sound casual. “Just curious.” I’m amazed I can hear her shuffling papers over the sound of my heart pounding.
“Okay, here it is.” More shuffling. “No, the chiropractor didn’t lease it, but...”
I hold my breath as I listen for what’s next.
I hear the clicking of her computer keys. “Nope. Still available.”
I blow out the breath in one hot stream, shocked at how happy this makes me. “Okay, so... what do I need to do to lease it?”
“You want to lease the storefront?” I can hear the excitement in her voice.
“I think so,” I say. “If I can swing it. I want to open a bakery.”
“No way, Claire! That’s a great idea!” Her enthusiasm is like a confetti popper inside me.
“Yeah?”
“Yes! I love this!” She’s back to clicking. “Hold on.” She must’ve set her cell phone down and picked up her office landline because I can hear her talking to someone else. “Yeah, I’ve got a very interested renter.” Pause. “Right. Okay, great.” Pause. “Sounds good. I’ll call when I have more details, but don’t show it to anyone else.” She laughs, then comes back on the line. “All right, let’s figure out what we need to do to make this happen.”
And it hits me then that I’ve just taken the first real step toward starting my own business. In a new city.
Because I want to.
Over the next few days, I work on the logistics of owning a business and opening a bakery.
It’s... a lot.
There are things I never thought to think of, but thankfully Lennon—and Miles—are both willing to lend their expertise.
I should probably make more of an effort to stop thinking about Miles, but it’s hard when he keeps coming around. Last night, after I texted to tell him the ball is rolling, he showed up with a pizza and a six-pack of Dr Pepper. “I’m here to tell you everything I know about starting a business,” he’d said.
“What are we going to do after those four and a half minutes are up?” I cracked.
“That’s funny,” he said dryly. “I mean, I can take my Dr Pepper and go—” He raised a brow and turned to leave.
“No, no, no! I’m kidding. I might actually need some help here. There’s so much to think about. I thought it would be about the baking, and it’s totally not.”
“Yeah, lots of people start businesses to do something they love. The problems start when what they love turns into a job.” He walked into my apartment and set the pizza and soda down on the counter, then looked at me. “Do you have a pen? You’re going to want to take notes. I’m very successful. A very big deal.”
