by Jamie Knight
But Florian was in the wrong place at the wrong time, just one time. And the drunk driver who took his life and turned mine upside down will be getting out of jail in another year or so.
It’s almost like some part of me died with my brother. That bubbly, happy version of me is nowhere to be found, and I feel like that life is draining out of the shop, too.
I still love this record shop because it's a part of us, and I'll fight my hardest to keep it going, but I feel like I can only do so much. I sigh and push myself away from the counter. I need to focus and get through this day so I can get home.
Ugh, home.
Although the thought of relaxing was tempting, I knew that wasn’t exactly what was waiting for me there. Ever since I started having problems with the business, I seemed to be buried under a never ending pile of bills. There just never seemed to be enough money to pay for everything. I had a stack at home that was getting dangerously close to past due.
So I know I won’t be able to relax, I know I'll end up spending my evening trying to figure out how to handle them once again. Not that I really have anything better to do, anyway.
I have no friends. I can’t think of the last time I actually had a date. I have no social life, so the only thing I really can do is go home and worry about the store. The heavy, miserable feelings weigh on my chest, and I wonder how much longer I can hold up to the crushing grief.
Feeling the need for something, anything to alleviate some of the ache, I rise to my feet and walk over to a stack of albums I keep nearby. I play these to entertain customers whenever they show up, or just to break the silence in here. I flip through the stack, searching for one in particular. When I find what I’m looking for, I carefully slide it from the cover and swap it out with the record on the player. I listen to familiar popping sound of the vinyl before the music starts.
A smile lights up my face. Immediately, some of the weight lifts away and I feel a little better as the music brings up older, happier memories. The record was one that my grandmother used to play, and this song in particular was one of her favorites. For just a moment, I actually manage to forget about all of my worries. I just lose myself in the music and stare out the window.
I'm not even aware of what time it is, or how long I’ve been standing here. I just want to enjoy this song. I promise myself I'll make time to deal with everything later, but I’m grateful to have a moment just to breathe. Actually, it's the only thing that has brought me even the slightest semblance of peace since I got the phone call that changed my whole world.
Maybe because listening to it was a shared pastime of ours. Hell, it was more than a past time, music was the core of who we both were. So sometimes it makes me feel better, but sometimes it hurts, too. I just have to kind of take it a day at a time, I guess.
It feels like the song ends too quickly, so I start it over again and spend a few minutes staring absently at the familiar cover art of the album. I smile once more as I remember looking at this same image a million times over the years in my grandmother’s house.
It’s small, but the nostalgia and positive memories manage light a little spark of hope in my chest. There’s always a way. I just have to find it.
Chapter 2 - Juliette
The next day I'm trying to keep my promise, at home seated at my kitchen table. Bills and papers are spread out across the table in front of me in mountains of organized chaos. I'm scribbling down some numbers in a notebook and checking my work on the calculator next to it.
After a few minutes I sigh and throw my pen down in frustration, rubbing my temples. I need to step away from this for a few minutes or my head’s going to explode. I get up from the table and walk over to the sink, pouring myself a glass of water and taking a massive gulp. The cold liquid does a little to settle my stomach, even if it does nothing for my nerves. I’m trying so hard not to let this stress get to me, but it doesn't seem to be working.
After going over everything, there was no denying it: I was going to be short on the rent for the shop for next month. No matter how many times I redid the numbers and tried to budget, the money to pay it just wasn't there.
I take another gulp water and force myself to take some deep, calming breaths before I start having a full-fledged panic attack.
Once I feel a little calmer, emotions under control, I can think more clearly. I start to try and brainstorm ideas on how to raise money quickly, but the more I think about it, what I really need to do is stall for more time until I can get the money.
That means I’m going to have to call the owner of the building and talk to him. I know what I have to do, but that doesn’t make it any easier to do. I take another drink, wishing briefly that there was a little “liquid courage” instead of just water, and put my glass in the sink.
"It’s now or never." I tell myself aloud.
I settle myself back down at the table and pick up my cell phone, scrolling for the landlord’s number in my contacts list. It doesn’t take me long to find, and after a deep breath to steel myself, I press the little phone icon and lift the phone to my ear.
I try to hold onto that calm I’ve collected as I wait for him to answer the phone. Our family has known the old man for a long time. He was a good friend of my grandfather. Hopefully if it comes down to it, I can play on his sympathies and nostalgia and convince him to give me just a little more time to come up with the money. I hate to do it, I’ve never had to stoop to something this low, but I don’t know what else I can do.
Finally he picks up the phone. "Hello?" He answers, sounding a little annoyed.
I wince. Not off to a great start, but I try not to let that discourage me from my plan. "Hi, Mr. Stevens,” I say sweetly, “It's Juliette. Albert’s granddaughter, with the record store?"
"Oh, yes, yes,” his tone softens and I feel that spark of hope return, “What can I do for you?"
"Well,” I hedge, “The reason I'm calling is I was just going over the budget for the shop. Sales haven't been going that well and I've been having some trouble financially. I'm barely able to afford all the bills. I was wondering if maybe you could give me a little extension this month, until I'm able to get the money to pay you the rent?"
The words fall out in a tumble, and I’m a little relieved once they’re out in the open, but anticipation is heavy in my gut as I wait for his answer.
He is silent for a long moment, and while I’m hoping for the best, hoping he’s just mulling it over, I know every silent second that ticks by is a bad sign. "Well, Juliette,” he says finally, “I’m sorry, I wish I could just say yes to you, but I don't know if I will be able to do that. You see I’ve had a very generous offer recently from someone who’s interested in buying the whole strip, and I can’t promise you what their rent agreement is gonna look like.”
My heart sinks, but I listen patiently as he goes on: “I really am sorry. I would very much like to help you, but I'm old and ready to retire. I’d been thinking about selling for a while now anyways…."
“It’s all right, Mr. Stevens,” I say softly, “I understand.”
"You know, maybe the new owners can help you and give you your extension. You're a nice person. Would you like their information?" He asks.
"Oh yes! Any help I can get is wonderful." I reply gratefully.
I don’t exactly have high hopes, anyone shelling out the money for a rental property like this probably isn’t going to be thrilled to immediately get a request like this. But I grab a pen and start writing it down on one of the dozens of pieces of scratch paper in front of me. He reads off a number that sounds vaguely familiar and an address
"The lady's name is Courtney. She’s been so sweet, I’m sure she’ll understand and help you out,” he tells me cheerfully even as my heart sinks with dread.
"Ok, Mr. Stevens. Thank you so much," I say as I hang up.
I study the information he gave me. "Courtney…" I mumble to myself, “It just had to be her.”
Apparently she has been “revitalizing” sections of the town by demolishing older buildings and replacing them with expensive shopping centers. Those places are all the same. So boring, and over-priced in my opinion. I put the paper down and on a whim, I run back to the phone and tap a few buttons on the screen. "Hello?" Mr. Stevens asks again.
"Hi, Mr. Stevens, it’s Juliette, sorry to bother you again. There’s something I forgot to ask you. If it's not too much trouble could you tell me how much the offer made was and how long before the sale is final?" I hold my breath as I wait.
I'm not expecting him to answer, he doesn’t owe me any explanation, but to my surprise he does. "The sale will be final at the end of the month, unless someone comes up with a better offer before then,” he explains, and when he gives me the number, my heart sinks all over again.
The end of the month is only two weeks away. I’m not even going to be able to scrounge up rent in that time, what the hell made me think I might be able to out-bid Courtney and buy out the strip? "Oh, ok. Thank you again, Mr. Stevens. " I reply, trying and failing to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
"I really am sorry, Juliette," He apologizes once more as we hang up.
I screw my eyes shut for a moment, taking a deep breath before I get up and start cleaning up the table. I put every paper back where it belongs. I’ve got one last option left in my pocket, but it’s not going to be easy. The last thing I can think to do is attempt to go to the bank and take out a loan.
It’s a slim chance, but it’s all I’ve got left.
After I've cleaned up, I gather all the business papers I’m going to need and put them neatly in my purse. I go to fund a suitable outfit to wear. I'm desperately trying to distract myself because I’m a bundle of nerves and I feel like I'm going to break. I can't lose this business, but I don't know what to do.
I wish Florian was here, or my grandparents were still around, then I wouldn't be in this mess. I shouldn’t be doing this alone. My eyes burn and I blink quickly to stop the tears threatening to well up.
I need to get ahold of myself, I can’t turn into a blubbering mess at the bank when I’m going down there to try and project an image of a mature professional. But it’s hard when I feel so small and scared.
Chapter 3 - Dominic
My arms crossed across my chest, I pace quickly back and forth in my office. My annoyance grows with each step, and it takes conscious effort not to grind my teeth. I hate waiting, especially for other people.
I stop pacing and glance at my watch. I sigh in frustration and throw my arm up. "That idiot was supposed to call 7 minutes ago," I complain to myself.
At least I don't have anything important to do. Yet. I would be more frustrated if I was late for a meeting or something. But my time is valuable, and I don’t enjoy having it wasted.
I stop pacing and start thinking of what I could be doing instead of wasting my time here waiting. An early lunch would have been one option. I could get a jump start on that pile of paperwork waiting for me at home…
Suddenly the phone rings, interrupting my thoughts, but to my annoyance, it’s my personal cell and not the work line. I snatch it off my desk and answer it. "Hello?" I snap angrily at the person calling.
"Dom?" Kevin asks in surprise from the other end of the line.
I had forgotten I was expecting a call from him, too. My best friend.
He recovers his composure quickly and starts to laugh. "Geez, I can tell from your tone it's been a while since you got laid," He quips.
I roll my eyes at him, even though he can't see. Truthfully, I hadn't really thought about it. Lately I’ve been consumed with work. We have so much going on with the company that I don't have time to think about anything else, which is good for business I suppose. "Longer than I care to admit." I reply with a sigh.
Kevin is my best friend, so I can confide anything to him
"Well, today is your lucky day. I called to let you know that the club is planning to host another auction," He says excitedly.
I hold the phone with my shoulder and walk behind the desk. I start looking over my files. "Hmm," I sigh in response.
I think about the last time I was at one of these auctions, a few months back. I didn't particularly enjoy myself, and I don’t recall having a spectacular time at the one before that, either. I haven't had a good run of luck lately at these things. For some reason they aren't holding my interest anymore.
Maybe I need more of a challenge, although that isn’t my usual style. I’m normally perfectly happy to keep things simple. I pay, my needs get satisfied, end of story. No hassle, no hang-ups. I don’t have time for messy entanglements.
So why am I bored with it?
"Well, that’s not the reaction I was expecting," Kevin says finally.
"Sorry, man, I don’t mean to shit all over your parade, it's just that I'm starting to wonder of it's worth it to even go to those anymore. It's always the same old story and we never meet anyone interesting," I sigh, sharing my opinions with him.
"Well, I suppose you're right. " he admits after a second.
I hear him sigh as he tries to figure something out. I feel a little guilty for being such a damper on his excitement. "Ok,” he says finally, ”How about we go, just to check things out? If it looks too boring, we’ll duck out and we can just hang out and have drinks. At least we can get out and enjoy the night, you know?" He suggests.
I'm still on the fence about the whole thing.
I'm kind of tired of that whole scene, but a night away from work would be nice. Just as I'm about to answer him, my work phone rings at my desk. Finally. I'm a little annoyed by the sudden interruption to my thoughts, but glad this guy is finally getting around to it.
"So what do you think?" Kevin asks again.
I need to hurry up and get him off the phone so I can get back to work. "Yeah, yeah, sure, that sounds fine," I agree hastily.
My hand reaches for the other phone and I hold it in my other hand.
"Really? You're serious?" He asks excitedly.
"Yes, yes," I agree again, eager to get off the phone.
"Great I'll call you once I have an exact date." He says before hanging up.
"Yeah fine, I gotta go, ok, bye!" I say hanging up quickly and answering the other phone before I miss the call. "This is Dominic," I say smoothly, switching back into business mode.
I pull out some papers and start taking notes of what is being asked. "Yes, we can definitely help you with that," I say, talking to the client on the phone, "If you like, we can have you come in for a meeting to discuss what kind of services you are looking for. I can switch you over to my secretary and we can pick a date that works for you." I say politely.
I'm usually as charming as possible with the customers, especially on business calls, and this is no exception. Though I'm focused on work right now, a part of me is thinking about the auction. I can't believe I accepted his invitation. Well, hopefully he's right and things will be different this time, though I highly doubt it.
It always seems to be the same crowd of people at these events, and that gets old really fast. It will be nice to have some guy time though. He's right, I have been working a lot lately. But that's the way I’ve always been.
After I transfer the client over to my secretary, I hang up the phone and lean back in my chair with a sigh.
I let myself think about my hopes for the auction a little bit longer, realizing that I’m not even sure what I’m looking for anymore. Maybe that’s why they feel so stale to me now. But I don’t have time to
worry about it now. I tuck the thoughts aside, then get back to work. Compartmentalization is something I excel at.
I think about the type of software this client is asking us to create. It's going to take a lot of work and planning. I start coming up with the team of people I'd like to be involved with on this project, jotting down notes and thinking about who I’ll assign as a project manager.
I'll make more final decisions after I meet with the client and learn more about what they want, but I’ve already got a crew in mind. I check through my company emails, I find one from a previous client thanking us for our services. I don't smile, but I do feel a sense of pride that my company was able to do a satisfactory job. I send a standard company reply to them before closing my computer.
I turn my attention back to the new project and start coming up with ways that it can be done. It's nice to never stop working and to always be needed, I suppose. The more jobs we get, the more money will roll in, and the happier my people will be.
And by the time my day is over, the auction is long forgotten, tucked neatly in the back of my mind. It’s a bridge I’ll cross when I get to it.
Chapter 4 - Juliette
I open the door to the shop and take a step inside. I flip the switch to turn on the lights and set my purse down behind the register.
Everything is as I left it, pristine and untouched, and all I need to do is flip the sign to open. I do that before taking my usual spot by the register. Everything is as it should be, but it feels dimmer somehow.
I can’t stand the silence, so I hasten to find something to put on the record player. I could really use the pick-me-up right now. I'm opening a little later than usual today, but I had a good reason.