Page 33 of Sandbar Storm
“I haven’t explored much. I’ve been knee-deep in getting the store ready.”
“Are you a designer like your mom?”
“Yes and no. She is a clothing designer; her degree is in fashion design. My degree is in merchandising to help the family business. That’s what this project is all about. Expanding Mom’s business.”
“Cool.”
“You work at your dad’s marina?”
“That I do. He fixes the boats, I schedule the dock space, help winterize, and sometimes gas ‘em up. Whatever we need to do. We had been keeping up with only two of us, but it’s getting busier. Need more hands-on deck.”
“Oh, I’m so appreciative that you had time for this.”
“Are you kidding? I was dying to meet you. Now I have a legit reason.”
Siena blushed and changed the subject. “Well, thank you anyway.”
They drove through country roads, painted barns dotted the landscape, and Siena wondered again about what she’d planned for the store. She saw clearly that she needed to bring more of what was special about the area into the boutique, not just her mother’s clothing designs but her mother’s designs against a backdrop of the Irish Hills.
Cole wasn’t overly chatty, nor did he interrupt her train of thought. But the periods of silence were comfortable, not awkward. She asked him about the different places he lived and his family. She found out his mom passed a few years back, cancer.
“We all took on a lot of the things she used to do, but we couldn’t quite do it was well as she did.” He was being self-effacing.
“Yeah, my mom is in recovery. That’s why I’m doing all the stuff for the store. I just want it to be easy for her.”
“Sure.”
She hadn’t expected to meet someone who knew exactly what she was going through with her mom, but there he was, right next to her behind the wheel. Giving up a Friday to do her a favor. It was pretty darn sweet.
Cole slowed down and swooped his hand across the dashboard as if to present the Tecumseh Trade Center like he was Vanna White.
“You’ve been here before?”
“Yes, my mother insisted, back when we bought the marina. She has vintage Miller High Life signs and an old Coca-Cola cooler. It’s all pretty cool, that stuff.”
“I’m betting you’re glad she did.”
“I learned never to say no to a woman who wants to go antiquing, from the best of ‘em.”
“I owe her a debt of thanks.”
“Just so you think, I’m not a saint, I also had a bad date here, and that girl and I did not work out.” Siena was weirdly glad to hear that.
“Well, this isn’t a date. It’s a mission.”
“Roger that.” Cole gave her a salute, and they set off into the wilds of the flea market.
There were booths outside, but also two massive red barns with rows and rows of vendors.
They strolled the booths. Siena spotted three tables with glass tops that were perfect for displaying scarves and accessories, and she could probably use one in the breakroom.
“Oh, these are perfect. Can we load these?”
Cole easily hoisted the things she’d found onto his shoulders and transported them to the truck. She also discovered a vendor with the coolest vases she’d ever seen. Maybe she could use those on a few shelves, fill them with flowers, and warm up the vibe in the store.
She bought half a dozen, and those made it to the truck too.
“I’m thinking you need to buy something soft to be sure this stuff doesn’t break,” Cole said as he puzzled over how to secure her growing pile of treasures.
