“She’s right,” Sophie says, her face turning down.
“Hold it, hold it,” Robin says, hands on hips. “Jackie’s proven she can decorate an apartment with class, style, and money. That furniture she bought last year for Emily is to die for, and you know fashion. You know style, Jack. In fact, I wouldn’t even say the DIY deal should be your angle.”
“I like this,” Lara says, eyes still trained on her phone.
“Okay…” I wait patiently for the next bit of advice.
“All right.” Lara finally sets her phone down. “That’s exactly it. Jackie, you have an eye for design. You know fashion. You know what works and what doesn’t. Robin’s totally right. And,” she holds up a hand, “this is the seal-the-deal part, the angle you can totally play up.”
I wait with bated breath. “Yes?”
“You know how to work within a budget. Any budget!” Lara says, face aglow. “You can work with a few hundred dollars and turn drab to fab.” She waves her hands behind her, gesturing to the apartment. “You can work with several thousand; if Em’s budget was a bit more, you so could have followed through with the sleek and elite style you originally had going with the furniture. So, you’re versatile. Any budget, any style, any time! Design By Jackie!”
Slowly I’m beginning to see where the girls are going with this, and I’m becoming as excited as they are.
I tell Lara to go on as I rub out my cigarette and pull my legs into a criss-crossed position on the sticky, plastic lounge chair.
“I just blocked out some of my lunch breaks next week,” Lara says, “so I can spend some time figuring out a mini advertising plan for you.”
“Advertising?” I say, mouth agape. “That sounds big and fancy.”
“If you want to do business, you need to advertise.” Lara picks up her phone again. “This’ll be a fun side project for me.”
“Lara—”
“Hey, we all have hobbies and projects,” she interrupts. “I just so happen to love my work so much it’s my hobby, work, project, all in one.”
“That and a little someone named Worth,” Robin says. She dances two fingers across Lara’s leg.
“Yes, I have a boyfriend now. Yes, I’m having the time of my life. Yes, I’m getting screwed six ways to Sunday. Or…something like that.” She flutters her lashes.
“And you wouldn’t have it any other way?” Robin says with a friendly grin.
“Hell no,” Lara says. She looks at her phone. “So, a little bit of advertising—we can start with fliers!”
“I can sketch out logo ideas!” Robin offers.
“Ooo, I can put the fliers in my café!” Sophie says.
“I can spread the word at the hospital,” Claire says in a sweet voice. “Could get a bite or two…”
“What do you say, Jackie?” Lara grips my knee, smiling wide, her eyes glittering with enthusiasm.
Chapter Fifty
“You’re going into business?” Dr. Pierce says, his bushy eyebrows knitting together.
“That’s right!” I twist around my wrist the orange and brown leather cuff that Emily brought back from her Baltics trip some years back. “I, Jackie Kittredge, am going into business for herself!”
“I have to say, I’m surprised.”
“Didn’t think I had it in me, did ya, Doc?” I make a clicking sound with my tongue.
“No. I know you’re capable of many things, Jackie. I’m just surprised that you’re becoming aware of what you’re capable of so soon.”
I look off to the side thoughtfully, pondering for a moment Dr. Pierce’s words.
Ha! I think. I’ve surprised the doc! Jackie Kittredge is really movin’ on up, and she’s knockin’ off a few socks along the way!
I sit up a little taller and pull at the hem of my grey and white pinstriped vest, a bohemian find I got in Paris.
“So a business?” Dr. Pierce leans back in his chair. “What kind of business are you getting into?”
I tell Dr. Pierce all about my design business—Interiors By Jackie. The name isn’t all that creative, but Lara suggested I choose something straightforward. She said I don’t want to fall into the kitschy group, trying to call my business something creative and playful and trying too hard, maybe giving off a cheap or throw-together vibe or something. Rather, she said, I should shoot for honest, simple, and approachable. Interiors By Jackie says all it needs to say, and I can be available for a wide range of budgets, since I want to design anything from DIY-fab to sophisticated-chic.
Robin’s already designed a logo that meets the simple yet sophisticated theme Lara’s talking about. Robin’s so excited about the new venture that she spent all her free time over the weekend sketching and playing around on the computer. One of her earliest logo designs, using slate and a Tiffany-blue color with a thin-lined font, the letters ‘I’ and ‘J’ standing out boldly, is the winner.
With the logo and name done, Lara had some fliers printed out and even ordered me some business cards. She insisted I make things official and register for a business title and something or other—some kind of tax-related stuff.
I whined about how I didn’t know any of that stuff and couldn’t care less, but she promptly came over one evening and showed me how I could do it myself on my laptop.
“So this is an official business?” Dr. Pierce says, sounding very impressed.
“That’s right! Paperwork’s filed, marketing material’s on its way, and this week I’m spreading the word!” I clap my hands together. “My friends really came together to help me pull this off so fast. I’m so excited!”
“Congratulations, Jackie.”
“Thanks. Now all I need is the flood of customers.”
“That’s the greatest trick,” Dr. Pierce says with a kind smile. “Tell you what—how about you give me some cards when you have them, and I’ll give them to my landlord.”
“Really?”
“Sure. I can’t guarantee it’ll result in any business, but he owns properties… Perhaps they need a designer’s touch.” He shrugs. “Can’t hurt to try.”
“Thanks, Doc!” Gosh, this owning a business thing isn’t so bad. It’s a cinch, really!
Okay, true I’ve gotten all of my friends to rally to my cause and help get this thing off the ground. But if I get, say, at least one client from Claire giving out fliers at the hospital and one person picks one up from The Cup and the Cake, and then maybe Dr. Pierce’s landlord will call and—
“Hey, Doctor,” I say, halting my wild train of thought. “Do you have an office or space at home that needs redecorating?”
Dr. Pierce chuckles. “I don’t think that’d be appropriate, Jackie.”
“Why not?”
“You and I stick to our sessions, how’s that?” He wields his pen.
“Breach of ethics or something?” I say with a crooked face, and he nods.
“So,” he says, his voice upbeat. “Let’s begin our session.”
***
“Hey, Tom!” I greet peppily as I step inside Hodge’s Bookstore. It’s the first time I’ve been back since I was let go.
“Jackie!” Tom says, making his slow way around the register counter. “Surprise seeing you here.”
I see Shirley’s head pop out from the inventory room, and I wave hello.
“This is my son, William,” Tom says as a stocky man, much like Tom himself, walks up, extending his hand to shake.
“Nice to meet you,” I say as I move the small sheaf of papers from my right hand to my left.
William and I shake and he says, “So this is the Employee of the Month my parents have raved about?”
I feel myself blush as I begin to fan the papers. “Oh, I wasn’t that great. They’re such nice people to work with.” Tom and I exchange a smile.
“William here’s taking the bull by the horns,” Tom says gaily. He shuffles about a bit before finally resting his weight on the register counter.
“I’ll really start plugging away once I
can convince these two to go home and enjoy retirement,” William says.
“Awww,” Tom waves off.
I glance down at my papers and instantly turn to the reason why I dropped by today. “Well, uh, I wanted to come over and bring you something.” I look from William, to Shirley, then finally to Tom. “I’ve found a new job.”
“I’m not surprised,” Tom says, now maneuvering, slowly, over to a stack of books set messily on the nearby table. “You did such great work here.” He pauses and turns around, holding up a knobby finger. “It’s not a job that involves alphabetizing, though, is it? Because then—”
I laugh and tell him no. “It’s my own business, actually.”
Launching into my quick spiel, I hold out my fliers, printed in color with my sleek Interiors By Jackie logo at the top. “I’m trying to spread the word,” I explain. “Trying to get some first clients.”
“Sure,” William says with a warm grin as he takes my small stack of fliers. “We’d be happy to set these out.”
“And some day, when we can get our numbers in order,” Tom says with a look of dismay, “we might even give you a ring to come on over and fix up this shop.”
“When the finances are in order,” William asserts himself.
“Definitely. When you’re ready, just call me. Here,” I say, hastily pulling open my large Louis Vuitton Neverfull handbag. “A few business cards, too, if you like?” I hold out a thumbnail-width’s stack. “Hot off the presses!”
The instant Lara called this morning to say my initial box of business cards were finished, I flew to her office downtown.
“I stole some,” Lara had said when I excitedly tore open the box and gushed over my very first business cards. I, Jackie Kittredge, a businesswoman!
“Even kept some fliers, too, and I also gave Worth some,” Lara added with a wink. “He knows moneyed people and said he’d be happy to help spread the word. You never know.”
Would you look at this! People I never imagined are pitching in to help a girl make something of her life, of her newfound independence. Don’t get me wrong, it’d be so much nicer if I had my husband to come home to, to swap day-at-the-office stories with, to have around to share my news and excitement. For now, though, I have to do what I have to do, and I need to stay standing—it took long enough to get upright.
I’m enthusiastic when William agrees to lend a hand, too. Pair the fliers and cards here with the ones I’m going to drop off at Claire’s next, then the load Sophie’s generously agreed to let me set out in the café, not to mention everyone else who’s pitched in, and I could very well have my first client come a callin’ any day now!
With Hodge’s Bookstore checked off the to-do list, I begin the drive across town to Claire and Conner’s.
Not only has Claire agreed to pass out some fliers at the hospital, but she’s got something else to help me out. She and Conner are in the midst of packing for their big move, and they’re taking the opportunity to get rid of a bunch of stuff they don’t really need anymore. They want to lighten their moving load, so Claire’s gathered a bunch of craft items, furniture, and decorative pieces for me—things I might be able to use for that staging project Lara and I talked about.
I did some Googling last night after Lara and I chatted about my next steps in forging ahead with my business. I found out that many interior designers offer staging—getting a home all dressed up as if it were a model home. It can really help get a house off the market quickly. I read on almost every informative site that potential buyers love walking into a home that feels like it’s ready to be lived in. Even if staging isn’t something I want to focus on with my business, it can be a great way to make a name for my company.
If I can get one or two people to agree to a staging project—a mini-redecorating gig—then I could take photos and use it in my portfolio, even a website! I have Emily’s apartment to start with, even though that’s not quite an example of the high-end stuff I’m eager to do. Lara insists it’s a start, and while I’m aggressively trying to get my first clients, I should be just as earnest in finding someone who’d be willing to be my second guinea pig, and preferably someone who’d be willing to pay for the out-of-pocket expenses.
It seems daunting at times, and there are moments throughout each day I get really anxious, wondering if I’ve lost my mind about coming up with Interiors By Jackie. I panic about getting in over my head and want to pour myself a hearty glass of wine or call Andrew up and beg for another chance—I can’t do something like this on my own! I’ve tried to stay standing! Disasters happen! I fail!
Then, I look around me, at Emily’s gorgeous apartment, at what I’ve actually been able to do, and I see the framed picture of my best friends—my supportive team—and I know that I can try to do this. They believe in me, so perhaps it’s time I believe in myself. Just take one day, one step at a time.
Chapter Fifty-One
“Hey, Jackie!” Conner says, swinging open the front door to his homey Madison Park home.
Instantly his Jack Russell Terrier mix, Schnickerdoodle, makes a flying leap through the door, yapping incessantly.
“Hey,” I say, looking behind me as Schnickerdoodle begins to run rapid doughnuts on the lawn.
“Schnicker!” Conner calls, opening the door wider. “Get in here right now.”
Finishing off one last tightly made doughnut, the rambunctious dog shoots back into the house. Conner briskly closes the door behind him.
“Damn,” I say, followed by a whistle as I take in the mayhem of boxes stacked about the living room. “You guys really are moving!”
Conner runs a hand through his unkempt sandy-blonde hair. “Claire’s crying about it every night.” He struts into the kitchen, hiking up his baggy brown cargo shorts. “Can I get you something to drink?”
I cast about the room, the realization that Claire and Conner Whitley are actually moving out of town hitting home harder than it has yet.
“Water? Iced tea? Beer?” Conner’s voice carries from the kitchen. His head appears around the corner, a carton of milk in hand. “Milk?” He holds the carton up, then takes a sniff. “Nix the milk. Looks like all we’ve got is water, iced tea, beer, a Coke…coffee!”
I laugh at his offer of beer at half past nine in the morning. “No thanks,” I say, setting down my Neverfull handbag on the half of the loveseat that doesn’t have boxes covering it. “I’m heading to The Cup and the Cake after this to drop some fliers off. Gonna get my coffee and pastry fix there.”
“Damn,” Conner moans as he emerges from the kitchen with a can of Coke. “That’s definitely a downside to Chad not working there anymore.”
I dig through my handbag, searching for the stack of fliers and cards I’d organized for Claire. “Oh yeah?” I say, half-attentive.
“Whenever he’d come over and hang out, like after a weekend shift or something there,” he pops open the can of soda, “he’d come with cupcakes and cookies and crap like that. Awesome.” He takes a quick sip, followed by a satisfying smack of the lips.
“Yeah, well,” I say, still searching in the never-ending depths of my handbag for the fliers. “Maybe if he didn’t sleep with his coworkers then he’d still be playing cupcake delivery boy.” My fingers finally alight on the papers, and I declare an “Aha! I found them!”
“Coworkers?” Conner asks, his voice a hint unsettled.
“Yeah.” I brush a hand over my hair.
“Co-work-ers?” he says slowly.
I crinkle my brow. “Yeah.”
“Shit, he and Sophie didn’t…again?”
I look to my left, my right, then back at Conner, completely nonplussed.
“I knew he still had it bad for her, but no way in hell did I think he’d actually act on it. That she would!” Conner brusquely shakes his head and takes a drink. “That’s why she fired him, isn’t it? I knew it!” He smacks a free hand against his thigh. “Knew it!”
I want desperately to hear more of this insanely ju
icy and totally unexpected gossip. I try not to blow cover that I have honestly no idea what Conner’s talking about, so I say in a vague sort of way, “You knew it?”
“I may not be the most astute when it comes to love triangles, but I know my best bud.”
I nod slowly and take a seat on top of the cluttered coffee table.
“Sophie didn’t fire Chad because he started dating Evelyn,” he says with a sneer. “She’s—and I don’t mean any disrespect; Sophie’s a great girl, Claire’s best friend, and I like her—but she’s a controlaholic, and I can’t believe she sank so low.” He wags his head and sets his soda down next to me.
“Well…Sophie’s a bossy little one…” I say in a distant way. I fake a laugh.
“She fired the poor lovesick guy because she’s upset he’s with Evelyn now and not her. God! I can’t believe her! If she wanted him so badly, why didn’t she take him when she had the chance? Before he hooked up with Evelyn? That’s a real jealous and bitchy move, toying with him like that.”
“Lovesick?” I say, feeling beleaguered by what I’ve just become privy to.
“Yeah—” Suddenly, Conner’s eyes grow large and round, his mouth agape. “Shit.”
I grip the edge of the coffee table and look down at the tips of my high heels, unable to believe my ears.
“I’ve just opened my big mouth, and you have no idea what I’m talking about. Do you?”
I shake my head quickly.
“Fuck.” He runs his hands awkwardly through his hair and lets out a guttural sigh. “Jackie, listen.” He leans forward in his seat. “I just thought that when you said coworkers you were implying that Chad hooked up with Sophie and Evelyn, and I got to wild thinking…”
“Yeah, like a zillion years ago!” I say in a high and a hasty tone. “Back in college! As in, ‘has hooked up before’!”
“I know, I know.” He continues to run his hands through his hair in anxiety. “I’m so stressed with the move and the new job, and everything’s just disorganized and chaotic and— My head’s not straight. Just forget all about this.”
When Girlfriends Let Go Page 42
