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“You two are stunning today.”
Eric and I each carried a box through the shop door.
“Thanks, Garrison.” I set mine on the counter. This was our first stop and I was already dragging. The compliment helped, even if only temporarily.
“Boy, am I glad to see your faces.” He slid the box toward him and cut it open. “I’m already out of what you brought Friday.”
“Really?” Eric added his load to the counter. “People like it!” He beamed.
“They do. And so do their dogs.” Garrison restocked the glass jars in a refrigerated case.
I stepped back and examined the display. The product truly did look beautiful. It was surreal to see what Eric and I had worked so hard to build in an actual gourmet pet shop. Garrison’s Pet Gourmet—superior food for the four-legged. People came from all over the city to Garrison’s for his legendary treats. That he’d given us a chance—and coveted space—still hadn’t fully set in.
“Can I have some treats for Millie?” Eric asked.
I hid my smile. My brother could barter with the best of them.
Garrison pulled out a tin from under the counter. “I had these ready for my favorite group of dogs.”
“I bet you miss them now that they’re not just around the corner.”
The tragedy of Grey Paws burning reached more than just the immediate circle. There was a hole that could never be filled in the neighborhood now.
“I do,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve made it over to the new place once, but it’s hard to carve out time with the shop being so busy.”
I nodded. It wasn’t a bad problem to have, particularly in New York City. “We’d better let you get back to it.” I collected the empty boxes to reuse. “Thank you again for giving us some space in your shop.”
He put his hands in the pockets of his apron. “Are you kidding? The dog food is officially my bestseller. It’s a fantastic partnership.” He cocked his head. “Just promise me when you get your own shop you’ll still let me sell your dog food.”
I nearly dropped the boxes. Our own shop? We were so busy with word of mouth orders we hadn’t planned beyond what we were doing now. In so many ways, we were winging it. I could talk to Beau about helping us with business plans, but that seemed invasive to our friendship. She wouldn’t mind. Actually, she’d welcome the conversation, but I . . . I wasn’t ready to shift our relationship into something else. Besides, if she became involved we’d have an entire skyscraper on Fifth Avenue with plans to go global.
“We’re not quite there yet,” I brushed off. “But we’d never forget your kindness.”
“I’ll text you later about how much I need for tomorrow.”
I tried to hide my excitement. It seemed we had a new steady customer. One who needed quantity.
“Thank you for the treats.” Eric high-fived him and clutched the tin to his chest. “Millie’s going to be thrilled,” he said as we walked back to the van.
“We’ll see her this afternoon.”
“Are we opening our own shop? Can I work the register?”
I slid open the van door and tossed the empty boxes inside. “One step at a time. But if we did, you could most definitely work the register.”
“Cool.” He climbed into the passenger seat and kept the tin of treats in his lap. “We never got donuts.”
I snickered at the reminder. “But you know where our next delivery is and what’s beside it.”
He thought for a second before he lit up. “The Donut Hole!”
I cranked up the van and “Me and Bobby McGee” picked up right where we’d left off. I glanced at my brother. What we had, the business we were building, I liked it. We had fun. We were out and about. We met nice people. I wasn’t sure a store was what we needed.
But we’d figure it out.
All that mattered was I had the best business partner in the world.
