by Amanda Tru
Finally deciding to forgo the noodles in favor of a bowl of popcorn, Brooke got off the couch, started the popcorn air popper, and poured in the kernels. She waited as white fluff started shooting out and into the bowl. As it came out, she doused it with a little butter and salt.
As soon as she flipped the machine to off, she heard a knock at the door.
Her heart leaped in panic. There was no way she was going to open the door in her bathrobe! She tiptoed quietly to the couch, hoping that whoever was at the door would simply assume she wasn’t home and go away.
But the knock sounded again, this time more insistent.
Brooke brought her fingers to her mouth, literally chewing her nails in sudden anxiety.
Her phone rang, and she jumped almost a foot in pure startle reflex. The instant she landed back on the couch, she leaped off again, making a quick dive to grab the phone off the counter before it rang again.
Catching it in the middle of the second ring, Brooke answered with a barely audible whisper, “Hello?”
“Brooke, it’s me. Come on. Open the door.”
“Dylan!” Brooke yelped, letting her breath out in a rush. “Where are you? I’m not exactly available right now.”
“I’m right outside your door,” Dylan said, tapping a snappy beat on the door. “I know you’re home. I can smell the popcorn.”
Brooke bit her lip. Obviously, it wasn’t going to work to just pretend she wasn’t at home. “What are you doing here?” she asked, gazing at the front door with trepidation.
“Trying to talk to you! Now open up!”
“I can’t, Dylan. I’m not dressed for company.” Padding over to the door, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was half-way back in a messy ponytail that had started unraveling itself hours ago, and her eyes were puffy from crying. She looked scary, and there was no way she was going to let anyone see her like this, even if she had to be completely honest. “I have no makeup on, and I’m in my pajamas and bathrobe.”
“I don’t care!” Dylan insisted. “I need to talk to you. I need to tell you about your loan application.”
“Just tell me over the phone!” Brooke said stubbornly.
“Come on, Brooke,” Dylan said, tapping insistently at the door. “I am not going to talk to you on the phone when I’m standing three feet away behind the door. This is ridiculous. I’m hanging up the phone now. If you want to hear about your loan, then open the door.”
The line went dead.
She really did want to know about the loan. Even though she was sure it was a no, she didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to find out for sure.
Unlatching the deadbolt and turning the lock, she opened the door about two inches, just enough to peer out. “There, now you can tell me from right there.”
Dylan laughed “I’m not going to tell you through the door, Brooke. Do you really want all of your neighbors to hear the details of your new business?”
“My new business? I got the loan?” Brooke swung the door wide.
Dylan stepped through quickly and shut the door behind him, as if afraid Brooke would change her mind and push him back out of the apartment.
“Not exactly,” Dylan said hesitantly.
Brooke angrily folded her arms across her front. He’d just tricked her into opening the door.
“While your loan application was officially denied, I think there might be a slightly different option that would work,” he explained.
His words didn’t unfreeze her frosty attitude in the least, but he continued. “What if the building was purchased as an investment and you were allowed to rent it for your business? You wouldn’t hold the mortgage or own the building, but getting approved to rent is much easier than getting approved to buy. I don’t know the details yet, but I’m pretty sure it will be affordable, especially if you’re willing to help with some of the building renovations and clean up. What do you think?”
Brooke’s arms dropped. “Are you serious?” she asked, her breath catching.
“Yes,” Dylan said, looking unsure of her reaction. “I know it isn’t exactly what you had in mind but—”
Brooke threw her arms around him. “It’s perfect! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
Realizing that she was in his arms, Brooke suddenly pulled back. “Sorry,” she said, wiping at the happy tears squeezing out the corners of her eyes.
Dylan swallowed. He looked pleased that he’d made her happy, but there was a sadness still about him. “Nothing is set in stone yet. There needs to be approval from a few different places, and Helen will need to sign the papers agreeing to the sale. I don’t think it will be a problem, though.”
“How soon can I get started?” Brooke asked, wondering how she would manage until she had some kind of income, especially if she had to pay up front for rent on the building.
“Helen wants a quick close on the property.” Dylan wearily took a seat on one of the barstools as he explained. “You may be able to occupy as soon as next week and start taking orders as soon as you’re able. I think we can arrange to have your rent deferred until the end of the month after you’ve earned some income. You’re going to need some start-up money. When I get the green light, I’ll have you go down to the shop and pick out any furnishings or supplies that you want from Helen. She’s selling everything anyway, so it will save you some money to take over some of what she has. You will need money for that, plus you’ll need a way to pay for your apartment rent, stock, and the other supplies you’ll require before money starts coming in. We can probably get you set up with a small business loan that you can pay off on a monthly basis. Do you think $5,000 would be enough, or will you need $10,000?”
Brooke’s mouth dropped open. “You can do that?”
“Sure,” Dylan said with a shrug. “Richard wasn’t right when he said the income potential of your business wouldn’t be enough to sustain it. With the increase in tourism in the area, a shop like yours is necessary and will do very well. Any online business will be frosting on the cake. You have good ideas, a lot of talent, and a wide-open market with no competition. You will do very well.”
Brooke looked at him, seeing the tiredness around his eyes. Though he hadn’t given any clues, she knew he was the one who had made this happen. She was sure that, just like all of the others, Richard Dunst hadn’t wanted to give her any kind of assistance. But Brooke could read between the lines and knew that Dylan had worked tirelessly to grant her dream. And she knew, without a doubt, that he’d done it for her.
Brooke impulsively stood close to Dylan’s stool and planted a gentle kiss on the stubble of his cheek. “Thank you, Dylan. Thank you for convincing Mr. Dunst and whoever else you needed to in order to get approval. I know it wouldn’t have happened without you.”
Dylan opened his mouth to say something, but then he changed his mind and his eyes slid shut as if he was having difficulty with his emotions. “Please don’t do that again, Brooke,” he said hoarsely, finally opening his eyes and standing from the stool. He stepped away as if to get some distance. His hand ran through his hair, his tension obvious.
“I’m sorry!” Brooke said, immediately feeling embarrassed. “I know I’m yucky right now.”
Dylan turned back to her, his eyes stormy, and he came back close. So close that he slowly reached out and fingered the band around her messy ponytail. He pulled it gently, watching mesmerized as her blonde hair fell loose. His fingers caressed through it separating the locks gently and watching the way they ran like spun gold over his hand.
“No, you’re beautiful.”
His hand dropped suddenly. “I need to go.”
A myriad of emotions cascaded through Brooke. She didn’t understand what this was between them. She couldn’t define her emotions. One second she wanted to throw herself in his arms, and the next, she wanted to run away. The only thing she was sure of was that she didn’t want him to leave.
“Do you want to stay for some popcorn and a cheesy movie?
” Brooke asked, longing to delay him, if only for a little while.
For just an instant, Dylan looked as if he’d just been offered what he wanted most in life. Then he shook his head as if clearing it. “No, I can’t. I need to make sure all of the paperwork is ready to go tomorrow morning. Thank you though.”
“Rain check?” Brooke couldn’t resist asking.
The corners of Dylan’s mouth curved up in a sad smile. “We’ll see.”
After the door shut behind Dylan, Brooke’s heart was slow to return to its normal pace. Instead, it was far too occupied beating a staccato pattern and whispering the lie that she was already more than half in love with Dylan Masters.
“What are you doing here?” Helen gasped before the bell finished jingling at Brooke’s entrance.
Brooke was startled. “I thought you knew!” she said, glancing around at the mess of packing boxes littering the store. “I was told I needed to come down and look through things to tell you what I wanted to purchase for my store.”
She thought Dylan or someone at the bank would have told Helen that she was the one who would be taking over the building.
Like pressure building up in a boiling pot, Helen’s face went from blank to irate in the space of about ten silent seconds. “You! I will NOT be selling a single thing to you! Nor will I consent to any sale of the building if you are involved! Where is my phone? I’m going to call this thing off right now! This is not at all acceptable!”
Panic shot up Brooke’s spine, and she didn’t know what to do. She thought the papers had been signed and there was no way Helen could back out. Dylan had told her that the money for her business loan was funded, the initial inspections complete, and that Helen had dotted every i and crossed every t. Brooke was to come over today and get started. But if there was some loophole…
Helen fumbled for her phone, lifting it out from beneath an empty box. Right as her hand touched it, it rang.
After her initial sharp greeting, Helen listened silently for about two minutes. It was like watching a balloon slowly deflate. When she did speak again, she wore a smile. “Yes, I understand. It won’t be a problem. We’ll take care of it. Thank you very much!”
Helen pushed the end button and looked at Brooke brightly. “What would you like to see first, dear? Mr. Masters said to just make a list of what you want and let him know the price. He warned that he might dicker a bit, but that he would give a fair payment for anything you want or need. Then he will have the money funded to me from your assets.”
In complete shock over the dramatic change in Helen, Brooke tried to swallow and gagged. She started coughing and couldn’t manage to stop until Tylee rushed over with a cup of water.
“Are you okay, dear?” Helen asked, patting her gently on the back.
“I’m fine,” Brooke finally managed, shying away from Helen’s touch. She couldn’t help but worry that, even though her former boss had a smile on her face, the hand patting her back might also hold a knife!
“Can I see the florist supplies?” she finally rasped out. “Maybe I can just pack them in some boxes to get them out of your way.”
“Of course!” Helen said, leading the way to the back of the store. “Just let me know what you need. The furniture is up for grabs as well as any of the gift inventory. I have to say, my dear, I’m so relieved it is you who will be taking over. I wouldn’t want to leave the building in the hands of an outsider, so I just think it’s perfect.”
Brooke couldn’t help but look at the woman as if she’d lost her mind. Helen, however, didn’t seem to notice and busied herself showing Brooke a wide variety of things she wanted Brooke to buy. Over the next few hours, it became clear to Brooke why Helen had a change of heart. Money. Dylan had told her that Brooke would buy what she wanted from the store. But no, she really didn’t want the half-broken Christmas lights from the 1960s.
When it became clear that Brooke wasn’t interested in the vast majority of her junk, her frustration and sour attitude began to show through once again.
“You only have three boxes of supplies,” Helen complained. “I don’t know how you expect to run a store without the necessities.”
“I will buy what I need,” Brooke said. “I’m really only interested in the more recent stock of floral supplies and a few of the shelves and tables.”
“So you don’t want to purchase any of the home décor stock?” she asked, waving her hand to indicate her eclectic assortment at the front of the store. “I would rather sell it to you at a discount than box it up to take it home to sell it.”
Brooke tried not to wince at the idea. “No, thank you, Helen. Maybe you can have a yard sale and sell some of it. I’m going in a different direction with the store, so I can’t really put it to use. Except for that toad right there. I want the toad.”
Tylee reached down and held up the ugly toad that had caused all of the mess to begin with. “This one?” she asked, a puzzled look on her face. “Hey, isn’t this—”
“Yes, that’s the one,” Brooke said, taking the toad from her friend and plopping it into one of her boxes. “Mr. Toad and I have a love-hate relationship, and I’ve decided to keep him around.”
“He’s bad luck if you ask me,” Tylee mumbled.
Brooke just smiled. Tylee obviously didn’t see what she saw. If not for the toad, the orders wouldn’t have been messed up, Dylan wouldn’t have insisted she accompany him to make apologies, and she wouldn’t have lost her job. That certainly sounded like bad luck.
But if not for the toad, she also would have never gotten to know Dylan, Helen would never have decided to sell the store, she would have never had Dylan’s help in getting approved for her business, and she would not be opening her own shop.
No, she was pretty sure she loved that little toad, and she would give the ugly creature a place of honor in her new shop—somewhere where she couldn’t trip on him ever again.
The next few days passed in a blur. She ended up giving a great deal of help to Helen, spending hours and hours helping her sort and pack boxes. While the older woman never once thanked her, it was enough for Brooke that, as Tylee carried the last box out to the truck, Helen handed her the keys to the building.
“I guess I should tell you ‘good luck,’“ she said stiffly. “But I’ll be really surprised if you last six months, especially since you refused to take any of the inventory of collectibles. Those really gave the shop flavor, and now? Well, you’ll have to find out for yourself that people like to see those kinds of things in a shop. I guess we all have to follow our dreams, though. Best to get it out of your system and hope it doesn’t ruin you financially.”
With that touching bon voyage, Helen left to the tune of the little bells ringing overhead. The door fell shut, and Brooke walked over, reached up, and removed the bells. She set them down gently in a box of donation items, careful to make them ring as little as possible. She may get another set of bells for above the door, but it would not be this set.
She looked around at the empty shop, relishing in the silence. It was hers.
Thank you, Lord! she prayed, fully appreciating that God had used an ugly, little toad and some unfortunate circumstances to do something wonderful in her life. While she didn’t expect everything to be smooth sailing from now on, she was grateful that God had gotten her this far and confident he would see her through tomorrow as well.
Mentally weighing the overwhelming task in front of her, she tried to imagine what it would look like in a few weeks. Her mom and sisters had offered to help, and she would definitely accept their free labor. But first, she needed something for them to do.
Taking out her paint samples, she walked around the shop and chose the colors. Dylan had already set up some renovations to begin as soon as tomorrow. Brooke was excited to be having new lighting and the floor redone, but she wanted to be ready with everything else as soon as she got the green light.
Satisfied that she at least had a few paint options to discuss with Dylan,
she walked to the back of the shop and sat on a barstool pushed up to her working counter. She took out her supply catalogs and started making a list. She intended to place the order online for faster shipping. Then she could begin setting up her website tonight. Tomorrow she would pick up her mom, and they would go shopping at some thrift stores, looking for anything she could transform into something cute for the shop. She was also sure her mom would help make some of the decorations she hoped to design. There was just so much to do, especially when she really needed to be making at least some kind of income by the end of the month.
Brooke looked at the calendar and wondered exactly when the building rent would be due. She glanced at her list and mentally estimated the cost. Maybe she should be a little conservative and reserve enough of her start-up money to make her rent at the end of the month.
She frowned. It was rather difficult to know how to plan when she didn’t yet know how much rent she would owe, or when it was due. Picking up her phone, she pressed the buttons to dial Dylan.
The only times she had spoken to him in the past week had been to discuss business. She had seen him twice to sign paperwork. But at none of those occasions had he said anything of a personal nature.
The phone rang.
“Hi, Brooke, can I call you back?” Dylan said by way of a greeting.
“Ummm... sure,” Brooke said, caught off guard.
“Thanks. I’m leaving for Seattle on business in a few hours, and I’m trying to finish up a few things here at work before I go.”
“Ok,” Brooke said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Then he was gone.
Brooke sighed and looked down at her list. She couldn’t place her order or do anything else until she knew the specifics of her rent and how much money she had available to work with.
Had Dylan meant that he’d call her before he got on the plane, or after he got to Seattle?
Brooke glanced at the clock. It was still a few minutes before 5:00. Maybe she should just be brave and give Mr. Dunst a call. He would know the specifics of her arrangement with the bank. That way, she could find out and get her supplies ordered without needing to wait for or bother Dylan.
