by Annora Green
Because of the internship, she applied for graduate school, during which she apprenticed for a fine lingerie designer. While she was absorbing all of the information she could during the apprenticeship, she filled many notebooks with her own original ideas and sketches for lingerie. She felt she could make better, more beautiful, more functional, and certainly sexier, pieces than the man she was reporting to, the lead designer at the company. Nevertheless, she was grateful for the experience and learned how to hone her eye for detail and enhanced her taste and natural abilities to create beautiful and romantic pieces that people could enjoy buying... and wearing. So, while her eye for detail and imagination propelled her designs, it was really her business acumen that allowed her to make her ideas into an actual, successful venture and survive in a competitive market.
Her hard work had entailed hours of toiling at all hours of the day and night in endless classes, apprenticeships and internships during her grad school years, then in the months after graduation, taking a few random, short-lived jobs at a couple of fashion houses. Eventually, she finished a small collection of pieces made from some of her favorite textiles and sold them in an online shop. That was how FORBIDDEN was born: in the small living room of her first apartment after finishing graduate school. She spent long days designing and sewing and posting her pieces online from her home, then personally packaging and shipping them out the door.
Unlike many creatives whose dreams are short lived, at least Sophia’s hard work paid off, because eventually she could quit all of her other jobs and work on her business full time, and as she applied herself towards her goal of growing it into something sustainable and successful, the years ticked by quickly. Eventually, she found she had little life outside of work.
After the FORBIDDEN line was featured on a few prominent style blogs, she started to see her orders increase. Finally, she could afford to expand her line, more frequently change the designs, hire employees to work with her on designing and sewing, purchase from better suppliers, and gradually increase the range of items in her line. And that was when she opened her first retail space, here at home, in the little pedestrian shopping district of Palo Rosa.
At 5pm, Sophia caught herself rubbing her eyes. Yes, all of the work she had put in over the past decade was finally paying off. Attention and print and online media coverage, boosted by a few high-profile clients who had raved about her products on their social media accounts, had actually grown her business into where she always hoped it might be. Popular and profitable.
She yawned.
Finally, a little after 5, she put her computer to sleep and clicked off all of the lights in her office and went back downstairs. At the moment, there was no one in the shop, but things tended to slow a bit around dinner time. They stayed open until 8:30 on Saturdays to try to catch shoppers - couples, ideally - who were in a good mood after dinner and drinks and were out for an evening stroll.
Elle was artfully arranging a display of black brasseries on a mirrored table. The shop was sleek and modern; the floors dark polished wood, the walls painted a deep, velvety grey, the lighting dim and relaxing, but with additional spotlights that were specifically pointed on her favorite designs, hanging strategically along the walls or displayed on tables. There were candles placed around the store: this year, copper was a popular accent metal, so candleholders glimmered throughout the space, and generous bouquets of white roses sat in massive mercury glass vases in the center of some of the tables, impregnating the air with their sweet perfume.
The interior of the shop was like a precious jewelry box: both sleek and soft, exactly the way Sophia had always imagined her store should look. It was her own little world, a space created in her imagination, come to life. She was proud of it
“I trust your interview with The Cut went well?” Elle asked, smiling kindly at Sophia. “I didn’t have a chance to ask earlier.”
Sophia forced a tired smile. “It did. And how were the customers today?”
“Not bad,” Elle said. “Sales seem even better than last year.”
“Percy hasn’t been by yet, has he?” Sophia asked.
“Oh, yes, he has. But when he saw you weren’t downstairs yet, he told me that he wanted to try out a donut from the place next door. He said he’d wait for you over there.”
“Oh. At The Little Cafe?”
Elle nodded.
Sophia grimaced.
“What is it?” Elle asked.
“I didn’t exactly have the most neighborly interaction with its owner earlier.”
“Oh,” Elle said, evading the topic, looking down at a stack of tissue paper and putting it away in a drawer.
She was used to Sophia’s lack of people skills. After all, it was part of the reason Elle even had a job: Sophia needed her to be the positive customer facing ambassador of her business, a shining, bright, friendly, pretty face, while Sophia was firm and drove a hard line with the rest of the aspects of her work.
“Well, I suppose I should go pick him up,” Sophia said, hoping that the cafe would be too busy for Ari to notice her stepping in.
She took out her phone and sent him a text, asking him to meet her outside.
As she waited for a response, she adjusted a negligée, which was hanging slightly off-kilter on its silk hanger. She then adjusted a few Christmas ornaments, simple spheres that had been hung artfully through the boutique, her only holiday decorations.
A customer came in, an older man in a pinstripe suit and holding a cane. Sophia glanced at him. She had seen him in here before.
“I have everything under control here,” Elle told her gently, touching her on the arm to try to snap her out of her compulsive fussing, something Sophia was prone to doing when she was tired.
Elle then moved towards the gentleman to ask him if he needed any assistance.
Sophia nodded in agreement, too tired to argue, and left the shop.
Outside, her temper flared when she saw that Ari had not, in fact, removed the decorations. She had not even moved the garish Santa over. Instead, she had actually added to the grotesque display. She had since covered her windows in what appeared to be a sheet of twinkly lights, and the multicolored white Christmas trees were now fully lit and created a miniature winter wonderland lining the entrance, cheerfully directing visitors inside.
Despite herself, she had to admit it looked festive. She might have even vaguely appreciated it if the place wasn’t neighboring her precious, sleek, minimalist storefront, casting an unflattering, colorful glow on her windows and no doubt blinding pedestrians as they walked past.
She pushed open the door of the shop.
And when she stepped inside, it was not what she expected.
Judging from the flamboyant decorations outside, she had expected sticky chairs and tacky round tables, the smell of cheap coffee and overly glazed donuts. Or, she expected something like the former tenant of the space, Flourish Cupcake Co., whose owner, Carrie, had been as sickly-sweet in both disposition and taste as they came. The cupcake shop had not exactly been FORBIDDEN’s ideal neighbor, either; the cutesy, twee pastel colors in that shop had clashed with the vibe that Sophia tried to cultivate for her own storefront. She had been relieved when Carrie decided to close up shop to pursue other interests. Or maybe she had gone out of business. Sophia was not sure.
The name “Flourish” had proven to be pure irony.
In contrast, The Little Cafe reminded her of the type of sophisticated cafe she might step into if she were in Paris or Vienna; it looked like a cafe one might stumble upon in a quant alley of a centuries-old city center, a hidden treasure, a cozy spot to pass an afternoon reading a newspaper or sketching or unwinding after a day of walking around the Louvre. Despite her outrage at Ari earlier, Sophia couldn’t help but be slightly impressed by the elegant, yet comfortable, atmosphere.
The rustic wood floors, sleek benches punctuated by small round bistro tables, and the long counter where customers could be served on high barstools were
all dark and sleek, but that was offset by all of the lighting around the room: there were many chandeliers hanging from the textured tin ceilings, casting a glowy light around the room. Tiny, twinkling lights were tastefully strung under the counter, and behind the bar, a giant copper-colored coffee machine glistened. Throughout the cafe, the walls had built-in bookshelves containing hundreds of books, photographs and paintings, adding an intellectual and well-worn feeling to the space. The whole environment seemed vaguely magical. It was certainly stylish. And, as she watched a patron snap a photo of a bookshelf on her phone while waiting for her coffee, it was a very social-media friendly space.
Not a bad advertising tactic, Sophia thought, impressed.
After gazing around for a moment or two, Sophia located her son sitting at the end of the counter, perched on a high bar stool.
“Here you are,” she said quietly as she slid into a stool next to him. His hand was on a giant mug of what appeared to be hot chocolate - at least she hoped it was, even though Percy was now 13, she still discouraged him from consuming caffeine - and a plate with what appeared to be an enormous chocolate frosted donut on it.
“Hey mom.”
“That looks good,” she said, and put a hand on her stomach as she realized it was growling. She had only had a small salad for lunch, and that had been hours ago.
“It is,” Percy said.
“Well. Didn’t expect to see you in here,” said a voice, and Sophia looked up to see Ari walking towards them from behind the counter.
Sophia clenched her jaw. “Ms. Little, this is my son, Percy.”
Ari smiled at Percy and nodded. “We’ve already met. This guy’s got great taste - chocolate-cinnamon donut and hot chocolate with a dash of nutmeg and cayenne powder. One of my favorite combos.”
“It’s great,” Percy said.
“Thanks,” Ari replied, beaming. “So, what can I get for your mom?”
“Nothing. We’re going soon,” Sophia answered.
“I insist. On the house. Anything you want. We have great pour-over coffee, cappuccino, cafe au lait, a massive collection of organic loose leaf teas... and of course, donuts.”
“Do you make the donuts?” Percy asked.
Ari shook her head. “Nope, I’m in charge of coffee, but it’s all I know, aside from my rapidly-increasing knowledge about keeping a business afloat. My employee and friend Rachel - the one over there - makes the donuts.”
“I think I’ll be quite all right,” said Sophia, hoping neither of them could hear her stomach as it betrayed her by growling in the fragrant cafe.
“The kid’s still got a ways to go on his snack. Let me at least make you a coffee? On the house. Neighbors always get coffee on the house,” Ari explained.
Sophia studied Ari suspiciously. They’d stood on the sidewalk fighting hours ago, and now she was generously offering her a coffee?
She took off her black trench coat, resigned. “Cafe au lait, please.”
Ari nodded. “Great choice. Never been to France, but had a French friend who taught me how to make them the right way.”
Percy continued to munch on his donut hole and thumb through a comic book. Sophia gazed around the room, still impressed by the ambiance.
“I like what you have done with this place,” Sophia said to Ari as she presented her with what appeared to be a perfect, milky cup of cafe au lait.
“Thanks,” Ari said.
“It’s better than the last place that was here. A cupcake shop, with whitewashed walls and crumbling antiques and pastels everywhere. You half-expected to see a unicorn wander in.”
Ari’s face fell. “Oh, well, that was my mother’s shop.”
Sophia bit her bottom lip and frowned. Great. Just when she was having a civil conversation with this woman - one that made her think she might be able to talk some reason into her about the display outdoors without making a scene on Monday night - she ended up insulting her mother.
Sophia nervously cleared her throat. “Your mother is Carrie?”
Ari nodded.
Ari was barely 30, if that, and she had always thought Carrie and her husband Dave were maybe mid-40s. A young-looking mid-40s. Barely a decade older than Sophia.
“My parents had me young,” Ari added by way of quick explanation, reading her mind.
“I see,” Sophia said. She knew a thing or two about that - Percy had been born when she was in her early 20s; she had not been ridiculously young, but younger than when she probably would have chosen to have kids otherwise. If she would have ever had kids at all, that is. She did not exactly have any romantic prospects at the moment, and she was rapidly approaching her 36th birthday.
Sophia decided to cover the awkward silence following that comment by taking a sip of the cafe au lait.
And it was divine.
Ari had wandered away to serve another customer who had just sat down at a small round table, so she missed the look of absolute bliss that crossed Sophia’s face: her first truly happy expression all day.
The coffee was perfect. The beans were sweet, but deep and rich in flavor. The cafe au lait had been prepared to perfection, with whole milk, which was absolutely sinful, and likely the coffee had been poured into the warm milk and not the other way around, which was the authentic way to make a cafe au lait.
It was the best coffee she had had since the last time she was in Paris.
Sophia savored every moment as Percy munched on his donut and finished his hot cocoa. Sophia managed to steal a small bite of the donut. That was good, too, but a little too sweet for her liking.
Ari had disappeared; the cafe was getting busy again with the after-dinner crowd starting to wander in, and a few musicians with guitars and a violin were setting up on a small platform in the back.
She had to get Percy home, though. Mainly because she was exhausted. They left before the music began to play (and before Ari could make her way back over to talk again).
As they left, though, she made a mental note to send Elle over to The Little Cafe next time she was at work with her broken machine, and in dire need of a cup of coffee.
2. Battle with the Barista
Sophia woke up on Sunday morning and she rolled over, her limbs feeling heavy under her crisp white Egyptian cotton sheets. She looked out her window: the day was cloudy.
She wanted to lay in bed forever.
But running a business meant there was always something to do, even on a cloudy morning in December. She dragged herself out of bed and put on her standard uniform, a red cashmere sweater that she had bought in London a few months ago and some black trousers. As she was waiting for a large pot of coffee to brew, she stood at her kitchen counter, her eyes glued to the screen of her laptop, page after page of sales reports that she didn’t get a chance to review yesterday reflecting in her glasses.
Before she could dig her impeccably manicured nails deeper into the reports, however, the doorbell rang.
And thus began a day of unexpected visitors.
“Morning, sis!” A chipper voice greeted her from the front porch.
Sophia’s heart dropped at the sound of her sister’s voice.
Her auburn-haired sister - who had a temperament that matched her flaming hair - pushed her way inside before Sophia could react.
“Sabrina,” she said, uttering the greeting through gritted teeth.
“How’s my dear nephew? Where is he?” her sister trilled, trotting into the foyer without waiting to be invited inside, peeling her leather gloves off of her hands and dropping them onto a chair near the door.
“He’s a teenage boy and it’s 9 am on a Sunday, so he’s asleep. Coffee?” Sophia offered, moving over to her pot, which had just finished brewing.
“Oh, I don’t drink coffee anymore. Would love some green tea, though. Loose leaf, organic if you have it,” she said, handing Sophia her heavy wool cape and hat.
Her sister had a unique sense of style for a Saturday morning, thought Sophia, as she hung the cape and
hat in a closet. Not that either one of them would ever be caught dead in jeans and a t-shirt, though, even on the weekend. Somehow their upbringing - with parents who were always dressed to the nines, even if it was a day when they were just staying home - prevented them from wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
Sophia silently walked into the kitchen after Sabrina, who was already making herself comfortable on a stool at the kitchen island, helping herself to one of the cranberry-apple turnovers Sophia had pulled out of the freezer and defrosted on a plate earlier that morning. They were something she had made from scratch last month on Thanksgiving weekend for Percy, and had frozen the extras for a rainy day.
Sophia filled a kettle for Sabrina’s tea.
“I’ve been so busy,” her sister sighed heavily.
Sophia rolled her eyes, her back to Sabrina while she turned on the stove and put the kettle on.
Sabrina had no job, children, or even hobbies to speak of, other than racking up bills on her credit card and paying them off with her piece of the family fortune. She lived to burn through piles of money each week, for little to no good purpose.
“How is the wedding planning going?” Sophia asked, making some attempt at civil conversation with her younger sister. She had no doubt their conversation would likely end in disaster, as it always did, but she could at least try.
“Oh, splendidly,” Sabrina said, her bright eyes sparkling. “Everything about William is perfection... he is letting me make all of the plans. He’s given me full control over the menu, the wine selection, the music we’ll be dancing to... mummy hired the best wedding planner for the ceremony and reception, which is quite a lot to manage considering it’s all going to be at home. I just hope mother and father can handle all of the excitement in the weeks leading up to it. And of course we booked the Japanese Garden for the bridal shower and engagement photos. Mother made a little call. Oh, and we decided: we’re going to Barbados for the honeymoon! Two weeks of nothing but ocean, lush, tropical sun, dancing and drinks.”
