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Shae reached across the counter to shake my hand. “I have a good feeling about our partnership.”
“Me too. You should stop by our Shops on Main meetings. We meet one Monday a month, but if you need anything in between, we have an email chain for questions. I’ll text you the next date.”
“That sounds great, and I’ll send the meditation program out to my clients in the next newsletter, and get it posted on the website. I need a couple of weeks’ lead time to generate interest. I’ve got to open the studio for my first class. But I’ll see you soon, Remi.”
“You too. Have a great day,” I called after her.
I was already having an amazing day. The more established businesses in the area hadn’t wanted to take a chance on carrying my juices, but Ava and Shae had. I couldn’t help but think it would snowball, and more businesses would want to take part. Or the meditation program would increase to a weekly or daily class.
Maybe it was time to think about contacting local organic grocery stores to see if they’d want to sell my juices. I hadn’t done it before because it felt too big. Something that was out of reach, but now, anything seemed possible.
In between serving customers, I researched what I could find on the internet about pitching to grocery stores and made a list of potential places, listing the contact person and phone numbers. Then I planned my pitch.
I decided to stay late and finish. Everything in my body was telling me this was the perfect time to take this next step.
When Colton texted that he was working late and wouldn’t be able to stop by, I took that as another sign that I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.
I texted him to be safe and kept working. What made my juices different than the others? Should I go through the purpose of each juice? The best ones for breakfast, post-workout, and an afternoon pick-me-up? Should I recount the healthy components of each? What made me stand out?
When I decided to focus on being a local brand, eating healthy, and feeling good, my fingers flew over the keyboard. I outlined a healthy lifestyle of clean eating, juices and smoothies, meditation, yoga, and exercise. I was more than a juice company.
Realizing I hadn’t eaten anything for dinner, I grabbed a granola bar from my top drawer, then I contacted my website designer to add a page about the partnership with Shae’s studio, the meditation class, and a page on the new direction I wanted to take. I didn’t have any coaching clients yet, but I wanted everything in place.
I needed to research pricing, but when I looked out the window, it was dark. Later than I usually left to drop my deposit at the bank.
Standing, I groaned at the pain in my neck and back. I stretched to ease the kinks and gathered my things.
Colton would be worried I’d left so late, but this was Annapolis, not Baltimore. The person responsible for the area’s incidents had been found. There wasn’t a reason for me to be worried anymore. I paused, taking a few deep breaths. Feeling more at ease, I locked the store’s door and walked briskly toward the bank.
It was busy tonight with families out getting ice cream and locals walking their dogs. People were going to dinner and enjoying the evening. Feeling better, I slowed my steps, taking in the beautiful night. I focused on the sounds of laughter and the stars overhead. I was thankful for everything I had in my life: Colton, my parents, Delilah, my friends, the store, and Shae.
My chest was bursting with happiness. Everything was great. I walked to the side of the bank where the door for the drop was. Looking around and not seeing anyone, I opened the door. Before I stepped inside, I was shoved hard from the side.
I fell, and my head bounced on the pavement, causing it to throb. Something warm trickled down the side of my face. I touched the spot, and my fingers came away sticky. The deposit bag was ripped from my other hand. Opening my eyes, I saw a man in jeans and a dark hoodie. With a roar, he kicked my stomach, sucking the air from my lungs. I curled into the fetal position, protecting myself. I couldn’t catch my breath.
I heard footsteps running away, and then nothing.
The pain overwhelmed me, threatening to suck me under, but I needed to move. I needed to go somewhere safe. I needed to call someone. Colton.
Blinking my eyes open, I was alone. I heard conversation, but it was far away. The alley felt like a tunnel. I needed to move to somewhere more public. What if he came back? Panic rose up my throat, making it tight.
I eased to a sitting position, leaning on my hip. I took stock of my injuries: my head hurt, I had some sort of abrasion on my forehead, and my stomach was on fire. It hurt to breathe. I looked around at the ground, my purse was a few feet away. Dragging myself toward it, I searched for my phone.
Not finding it, I remembered it was in my back pocket. It wasn’t anymore. I searched the alley, finally finding it a few feet away with the screen cracked, but hopefully, it still worked. I grabbed my now-empty purse and phone, painfully making my way to the sidewalk. Leaning against a nearby building, I felt slightly safer. I could see other people.
I needed to call the police. I needed Colton. When his voice came over the speaker, strong and comforting, I rasped, “Colton. I need you.”
“What happened? Where are you?” The words came out clipped.
“The bank on Main, down from my store.” I couldn’t remember the name; my mind was foggy.
“Stay with me. I’m on my way.” I didn’t respond. “Remi?”
“Yeah?” My voice cracked.
“Stay with me.”
I slumped against the brick building. “I’m not going anywhere.”
