Page 69 of Scoop Me Up
A few days passed and things were going well. I was on track to open the shop the following week. Luke was doing a final walkthrough of the space with the county inspector and I was hiding in the shop office, praying to Mabel the Maplewood cryptid that everything would go smoothly and we’d get our certificate of occupancy—the final sign-off from the town that we were good to go.
It didn’t take long, and as I heard the bell ring above the door to indicate the inspector had left, Luke knocked on the doorframe of the office.
“Sam?”
I jumped to my feet. “How did it go?”
Luke nodded slowly, a smile spreading over his face. “We got it.”
My heart leapt in my chest. “We did?” I held my breath, afraid to get excited.
He gave me a thumbs-up. “We did.”
I exhaled in a rush, letting out the breath I’d been holding and releasing the tension in my body. “You’re amazing, Luke.”
He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
“Now what?”
“You’re just waiting on your last few deliveries, right? Other than that, you’re good to go. You’re free to open.”
Those words—free to open—echoed in me. I could hardly believe how quickly everything had come together. I wanted to throw my arms around Luke and hug him. Instead, though, I thanked him profusely before we said our goodbyes, Luke promising to return for opening day and anytime I needed him.
The second he left, I texted Gabe.
Sam: Inspector just left. We’re good to go!
Gabe: That’s amazing! Now what?
Sam: Just waiting on the furniture to come in and then opening day, here we come!
Gabe: Let’s celebrate when I get home. I’ll bring pizza and we can watch a movie and stay in.
This was accompanied by a winking emoji.
I laughed and put my phone away, my mind on the furniture deliveries I was still expecting. I couldn’t remember when the tables and chairs were supposed to come in, but it had to be soon—right? I clicked through some of the files in my email before I found what I was looking for. An email with the subject line Furniture Delivery.
After reading through it, I spotted a delivery date, and glancing at the calendar, I realized that the furniture was supposed to have been delivered the day prior. Frowning, I picked up my phone and called the supply company to find out where the hell my tables and chairs were.
It only rang once before someone picked up on the other end. “Burlington Furniture, this is Amber. How can I help you?”
“Hi, this is Sam Thatcher. I’m the owner of Scoops on Maple.” A thrill ran through me at the words and I continued on. “Weordered some furniture from your store and it was supposed to be delivered yesterday. I was hoping you could help me figure out what happened.”
“Sure thing, give me just a minute.” Amber asked me for a little more information as she looked up my order. “Oh, right. Here it is. It says your delivery is delayed.”
My stomach sank. “Does it say why?”
On the other end, I heard the clicking of a keyboard before Amber responded. “It says… oh, here it is. Manufacturing delay. Sounds like your furniture isn’t finished being built yet.”
I suppressed the urge to panic. “What does that mean for my delivery timeline though?”
More clicking on her end of the line. “Hmm. It says at least two more weeks.”
“You’re kidding me.”
Her tone was sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I wish I had better news for you.”
“My store opens next Friday. What am I supposed to do without furniture? And why wasn’t I notified sooner?”
