Page 45 of Silver Linings
“Have you thought about changing the name of the store?”
It has crossed my mind, but when I tried to come up with another name, the commitment and permanence of that decision started to make me feel panicky. So, I threw it to the back of the filing cabinet in my mind to be looked at another day.
“A little. But there’s just too much else to focus on. Hendrix and I spent four hours working last night, and this is all we got done.” I point to the wall we finished.
“Speaking of Hendrix…” She trails off, raising her eyebrows and looking to me to spill any kind of dirt on the previous night.
I consider telling her, would have in the past, but something stills my tongue. It’s a weird sense of wanting to keep that moment with Hendrix between just me and him, like if I don’t put the moment we had into words, I can pretend it didn’t happen and it’ll make ending it with him easier.
“We’re just friends, Hols.”
“That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing. I was practically being hotboxed with sexual tension. It made me a little horny myself, actually,” she pouts.
“You’re ridiculous.” I laugh. “Can we get to the task at hand, though?”
She squints her eyes at me. “Fine. Let’s talk about events.”
“Perfect! So for now, we can have events here on the main floor by shifting these tables off to the sides and setting up chairs. When we fix the second floor, we can do them up there so we won’t have to disturb the main floor.”
“What other events are you thinking about other than the book club we’re starting next week?”
“I was thinking we could host writing socials. Once a month, we offer a free space where writers can come together in a safe space and just get out of their head for a bit.” I can see the happiness in her eyes. Holly may work here, but writing is her first love.
“Silver–”
I cut her off. “I was also thinking we could do author events eventually, book release parties, signings, that kind of thing. Maybe a localized mini market once a month to give artists aplace to sell their work on weekends. Dating mixers could be fun?—”
“You know who could benefit from a dating mixer?” She points a direct look at me.
“I don’t date.” Holly opens her mouth to continue, but I cut her off. “I’d love any and all sorts of ideas from you and Carmen, though.”
“Craft events would be fun—like a make your own bookmark station. Maybe we can partner with that craft store over on Mulberry and help drive business to them too.”
We bounce ideas back and forth throughout the day while helping shoppers and shifting around stock to make room for the newer titles released this week, trying not to think about Hendrix every time I see the new paint color adorning the left wall.
“You have tokneadthe dough, Silver,” Seraphina shouts at me from the kitchen of her and Holly’s home in Brooklyn.
I am fulfilling my bargain to be a test dummy for Sera’s baking workshop. That way, she can work out any kinks in her curriculum before she takes the announcement live to her blog, Mental Bake Down, and starts booking regular classes.
“I do need the dough. Ineedit in my mouth,” I quip while Kena snorts next to me.
“I told you bringing her here would be a disaster.”
“Hey!” I huff out in a grumble and settle my flour-coated hands on my hips in indignation.
“Sweetie, I love you,” I smile at his words, “but we both know anything to do with cooking or baking is not your strong suit.”
“And that’s what makes her the perfect student,” Sera says, walking back into the dining room where we’re at. “Knead,” she directs with a tilt of her head toward my slab of lumpy dough.
“Will you come show me how? Like we’re Patrick and Demi in Ghost at the potter’s wheel?”
“Stop hitting on my wife!” Holly shouts from their bedroom, where she’s working on her current manuscript.
We settle into our work with gentle but firm instruction from Sera as needed. When we’re done forming the dough into balls and placing them in a greased bowl to rise, Sera says she’s going to make us all something to eat, leaving me and Kena to rest with a glass of wine each.
“How’s everything at the Atelier now that you’ve been there for a bit?”
He heaves out a deep sigh, worry lines bracketing his mouth. “The work itself is amazing. I’m getting a lot of great client referrals and working in the most insane homes…” He lets the sentence drop off.
