Page 48 of Do It With Me

CHAPTER 21

ELLORA

The next afternoon, I was in my shop, my sleeves rolled up and coffee cup number four cooling on the counter beside me. The front door was propped open to let in any folks from the neighborhood who’d gotten word of the meeting and my excitement—and my caffeine levels—were running high.

Every time I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, my heart skipped and my grin widened. Marguerite, Josie’s daughter, appeared next. She smiled excitedly when she saw me, holding up a small box she was carrying.

“Scented candles,” she explained. “Where do you want them?”

“Just right over there.” I pointed at the section I’d cleared for this project, the antique bookshelf and tables I’d moved over there not yet overflowing, but at least they were filling up. “Thanks for being here. We’ll get started in a minute.”

So far, a handful of locals had gathered, a mix of regulars and a few curious newcomers I’d tracked down through one of our neighborhood group chats. These were people who’d used those same chats to try to sell their wares. Today, I was hoping they would agree to let me help them—and myself.

Marguerite went to set her box down with the other handmade items that had been brought in. Then she went to join the group huddled near the coffee station at the kitchen. Mrs. Castillo from down the street had brought in a basket of crocheted baby blankets that looked like clouds spun from cotton candy.

She turned to greet Marguerite, waving her over to join the conversation she was in with Janelle, an art teacher, who had come in with hand-painted mugs. Old Mr. Park had brought a box of small birdhouses he’d built himself.

There were a couple more people too. After a night of barely sleeping, I was glad my call to arms—or more accurately, my call to crafts—was paying off. In between planning and setting up the space, I’d been texting Holden all morning, bouncing ideas off him. He’d been great, with quick replies, thoughtful comments, and little jokes that made me grin like an idiot every time my phone buzzed.

Holden: Maybe add a sign saying ‘Locally Made.’ It tells people why those items are special before they even ask.

That was his latest message, so I grabbed a chalkboard, wrote Made Right Here across it in my neatest handwriting, and hung it up over the display table. The others cheered like I’d just won an award when they noticed what I was up to.

Feeling a little giddy, I dipped into a bow and grinned. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

Marguerite whistled and I laughed, the excitement positively contagious. For the first time in a while, the shop didn’t feel like a sinking ship. It felt alive. People were laughing, talking, swapping ideas about prices and materials. I went to join them, but after a few more minutes of locals joining us, I finally called the meeting to order.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” I started after climbing onto a chair in the corner. Looking out over almost a dozen people gathered now, I tried not to let tears of joy start flowing down my cheeks, clasping my hands in front of me instead. “Thank you all so, so much for being here. Especially on such short notice.”

I dragged in a deep breath, meeting their eyes pair by pair as I spoke. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Ellora Kinney and Second Story belongs to me, but you’re here because I’m hoping each of you wants to become part of this story.”

They all watched me intently.

“I’m sure most of you have heard that there’s been a lot of movement on our block recently, and truth be told, this store probably isn’t going to be unaffected, but for now, while I’m still here, I’d like to use this space to give all of you the opportunity to showcase your goods.”

A smattering of applause broke out.

I smiled. “If you have any friends or neighbors who might like to make use of this opportunity themselves, please tell them that they’re welcome. This is open to everybody local who has a talent and would like to make a bit of extra money with it.”

Mrs. Castillo pulled out her phone and started texting immediately, her fingers surprisingly fast and nimble for her age. I waited until she’d stuck it back in her pocket before I went on. “What I’m hoping is that together, we can turn this into a one-stop shop for affordable, quality, local products. I’ll be putting the word out on social media today and I’m looking into other options to market it.”

“How about an actual market?” Marguerite suggested. “I can also help you design some flyers if you’d like.”

“That would be great.” I hopped off the chair and grabbed my notebook. “What have you got in mind for a market?”

Our meeting lasted about another twenty minutes before everyone started setting up their items on the display. The creativity in this room at the moment was astounding, with everyone helping each other to arrange their wares in the best possible way.

As they jumped in, I stood back and watched. The shelves were fuller than they’d been in months. Sunlight shining in through the windows hit the polished glass cases just right, giving the entire store a bit of a mid-afternoon sparkle.

All we needed now were customers to take some of this stock off our hands. With that thought in mind, I pulled my phone out to take some pictures of the progress when it buzzed again.

Holden: How’s it going over there? Meeting a success?

Once again grinning like a schoolgirl with a crush, I snapped a picture and sent it to him.

Me: Better than I hoped. You might actually be good at this business thing. Who knew?

His reply came almost instantly.