She gives me a look—you sure?—then disappears into the crowd.
I turn back to Holly. “This is really good,” I say again, quieter this time. “The booth, the setup. All of it.”
Her eyes flick to mine. “Thanks. I read the book you told me about, started following some local business owners on social media, and found this great blog on new business ventures in the beauty sector.”
I stop, stunned that she has taken my advice to heart so quickly. “Wow, that is some deep research.”
She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but gives herself away next, speaking at 1.5x speed, not quite meeting my eyes. “I realized if you want to make something happen, if you really believe in it, you have to invest yourself fully. That’ssomething I wanted to talk to you about actually, your investment in the salon.”
I stiffen at the word investment, and Holly notices. “Well, that might be the wrong term to use in this situation … but I met with an accountant and some other business resources. I have a few details to iron out, but I want to schedule a meeting with you soon to discuss the payback details. Unfortunately, by the time I realized the situation, much of the cash was tied up in various ventures …” she trails off momentarily. “Anyway, don’t want to bore you with all the business jargon at the market, but I will have the finalized details to you soon.”
“You could never bore me with business jargon,” I respond immediately.
Holly begins to laugh but checks herself when she realizes I’m serious.
“Anyways, how is the cabin going?” Holly switches gears.
I stop myself from asking the million questions I want to; this is not the place. “Good, still a ton of projects left to complete, but habitable now. I’ve got to clear out some of the brush near the back before it gets worse. It’s … not cute. Isn’t providing the Insta-worthy photos I want my guests to be taking.”
Holly nods immediately. “That makes sense. You don’t want anything getting too close to the structure, plus the social postings will be vital to bringing in new customers, setting the whole vibe and all.”
I glance at her, a little surprised at how knowledgeable she is. I cautiously respond to her, “Yeah … that’s right.”
She hesitates for a second and asks, “What day are you tackling that, and what time should I be there?”
I blink. “What?”
“I want to help.”
My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “Help with what? With the brush clear out? No, Holly, you don’t need to.” Nor can I imagine her with a rake and leather gloves.
“I want to.” Holly laughs. “It isn’t even because I owe you …”
“Like 75,000 times owe me?” I bluntly eject.
“Um, yes, exactly. But more than that, I realize I never thought much about what it took to build the life you and Sam have. I want to be a part of it.”
There’s no pressure in it, just an offer to help someone out. I study her for a second longer than I mean to.Who is this Holly?
“Okay,” I say finally. “We’ll probably start late-morning tomorrow.”
Her face shifts, something like excitement, quickly checked. “Tomorrow might be tight,” she says. “I actually picked up a catering shift.”
I frown slightly. “Catering? I thought you were focusing on the salon?”
“I am,” she says quickly. “But we’re not open yet. And I …” She shrugs, a little sheepish. “I wanted to start covering more of my own stuff. Not just … relying on everything working out. After I saw you working at the gala, I thought that would be a great part-time gig. So I reached out to Vanessa, she connected me with the company she uses. It’s just odds and ends shifts, but it’s a start.”
I nod slowly, too stunned for words. “What kind of event?” I ask.
“Business lunch, some corporate retreat at the Butte.”
I glance down at her shoes, noticing they’re perfectly stylish. “Don’t wear those,” I say automatically. “You’ll hate your life by hour two. Just wear tennis shoes, dark color preferably, for spills.”
She nods immediately. “Okay. Tennis shoes. Got it.”
A small smile pulls at my mouth. “Come Sunday afternoon,” I say. “We’ll still have plenty to do.”
“I’ll be there, you can count on it,” she chimes with no hesitation.
