“Wait. What live acts?” I asked, shaking my head.
This conversation was growing more confusing by the second.
“The live acts that will be here playing music, singing, spitting poetry. All that. If you start offering art here, you’ll appeal to a whole new crowd of people. You’ve left an entire market untapped by not going after the young adults and the college and high school students. I’ve watched your clientele. People of different ages came through here and grabbed signed autographed copies, but I noticed it was mostly middle age and older women that came to browse your shelves. There were a few adults in the early thirties age group but not much. Young people came, met me, bought my books, and left. You’ve got to appeal to people at every level.”
Shaking my head, I said, “I can’t do this, Bryce. That’s a lot. I mean, I’m already struggling for sales. Where is all this money going to come from for marketing and these transitions?”
“You’re underestimating your community, Peyton. You’ve been away too long and—”
“Not as long as you have!” I objected.
“You’re right, but I haven’t forgotten what Summer Cove was all about. People would love to be invited to volunteer to help. If you put the word out, and I bet Maggie and Ronnie would be a good place to start, that you need help, you’ll have people coming out in droves. It’ll be all over Summer Cove before you know it. You’ll have to turn some people away. That’s what Summer Cove is all about, and that’s what it’s always been about. People help one another and support each other. The hardware stores, carpenters, web designers.”
Shaking my head, still unconvinced, I said, “I’m not sure about all that, Bryce. I mean, this isn’t some Hallmark movie, and I doubt if people are just going to do that.”
“I don’t buy it. I think you’re scared of change, and you need to stop fearing it. If there’s any hope for growing this store and bringing in the success Maggie projects, you’re going to have to do some things you’ve never done.”
“Why would I be scared, Bryce?”
“Some people are scared of succeeding. You haven’t changed the blueprint of this store since you’ve bought it. What did you buy it with some money you got from a settlement?”
“Yes, from the sale of our home and some money I had in savings.”
“Okay, fair enough. But then what else did you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“To implement change?”
“I had no money left.”
“So, you’ve left the store as is and haven’t given one thought to making it your own? Not putting your stamp on it or letting people know it was under new management?”
I felt foolish all of a sudden. “I...well, I hung a sign.”
“You hung a sign?”
Bryce pulled his hands down his toffee-colored face, and when he removed it, his handsome face was a deep shade of red and his brown freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks stood out more.
“Yes.”
“Okay, we’ve got some work to do and a little time to get it done in.”
“Whoa, buddy! You’re moving a bit fast for me.”
“That’s how I’ve got to move if we want to turn this ship around and make landfall in time. If not, we’re in a whole lot of trouble.”
“We?”
“Yes, ‘we.’ That’s what friends are for.”
“Bryce, that’s one of the things I always admired about you growing up.”
“What’s that?”
“You were always this fun-loving guy, but you didn’t mind rolling your sleeves up and getting into the thick of things. You were a problem solver. Always had a resolution for everything.”
Bryce chuckled, pulling a hand over the light, scruff on his face and chin. “I don’t know about all that. Remember the time I organized that party, got the food together, spread the word, secured a spot at Amelia’s crib since her parents were out of town, and everyone showed up, but we had no deejay?”
Laughter spurted from me as I recalled that night. “Yeah, people were pissed about no music.”
“My boy Robbie got sick at the last minute and called it. If it weren’t for my boys Justin and Nick, that would’ve been a for-real shit show.”
“I thought you’d just deejay,” I said softly.
“Well, that would’ve been a helluva plan if Amelia had something for me to deejay with. I couldn’t believe her parents didn’t have one single stereo, radio, turntables, or shit in that place. I mean, they’ve got this big ass mansion and what? A big ass piano, and that’s it?”
“Well, they were a classical musical family. So there’s that,” I recalled.
“I guess. But she should’ve warned me of that shit before offering her place up.”
“I don’t think she could see past her crush on you. Amelia just wanted you in her house, and however, she made that happen, the rest didn’t matter,” I recalled.
“I think that’s the one thing that I’ve always admired about you, Peyton,” Bryce said, smiling at me.
“What’s that?”
“Your ability to read people. You’ve always been able to see through the façade most people put on and see real shit. Nobody could pull a fast one over on you.”
“Yeah, well. It seems it didn’t work when it came to my ex. Jake pulled a fast one on me,” I shared.
“No, he took advantage of trust and a beautiful heart. He’s the one that lost out,” Bryce said, taking my hand into his.
He rubbed his thumb in circles in my palm. Heat rose to my face, and I fought to focus on the topic.
“Yeah, well. My life is pretty okay now, and I have no regrets. Besides, if I hadn’t gone through that, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today. I have no regrets.”
“Whether it worked where he was concerned or not, I admire the woman you’ve become, Peyton. Packing up your shit and leaving the big city and a decent paying job to return home to the unknown takes strength and character,” he said, locking his fingers with mine.
A burning sensation took over my belly as the warmth of his hand, and mine interlocked played tricks on my senses.
“Thanks, Bryce,” I replied shyly.
“No, seriously. I’m proud of you.”
“I just needed a change of pace, location, career, all of that. Something that made me feel alive and breathe. I’m not sure what I thought I would gain moving away from here. Small town living may not be for everyone, but it’s who I am. At the heart of it all, I’m just a small-town girl who loves her community, being a business owner, and just living a simple life. Going away from all that, I often felt I had something to prove. You know?”
Bryce chuckled. “Do I? People got a way of trying to make you feel like shit when you tell them where you’re from. As if being from a small town excludes you from having knowledge, intellect, or wisdom. As though you’re backwards in all your ways.”
“Or...that it just means you’re some hick, unsophisticated, and gah! Please don’t let me talk about the times they’d just assume I was prejudice or some other stupid stuff,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Angela Jackson!” we said simultaneously, laughing.
“That damn girl,” Bryce said, shaking his head.
“I remember the first time she saw the two of us together, and she stared a hole in me. I couldn’t figure out what it was until I learned later that she had a crush on you.”
Bryce pulled a hand down his head. “She thought you were my girlfriend.”
“I know. Jackie told me that Angela had a problem with interracial dating,” I said.
“Angela had a problem with interracial anything. It amuses me how she’d accuse everybody else of being prejudice but couldn’t see it within herself.”
“Like what the entire hell, though, Bryce? Just because I’m a white girl, I can’t hang with black people?”
“Some people have this stigma, Peyton. Raised in the deep south by her grandma, some of her prejudices were inherent. I
n her mind, she didn’t believe white people had any use for us; therefore, she didn’t trust y’all.”
“That’s stupid, though. You don’t judge people off of the past, you get to know them and make your judgments off your experiences with them.”
“Unless you’re too afraid to open up and prove those fears right. Angela and other sistas like her never gave women like you a chance because of their own beliefs about race. And then there’s the reality of what some sistas have to deal with. Being passed over for a white woman as soon as a brother becomes successful. As though they’re not good enough anymore. Like once we’ve arrived, we go out and seek a white woman to complete our dream, and now we’ve got it all. Complete with the token, white trophy wife on our arms. It’s a slap in the face for all the sistas that did put up with our shit through the years.”
“Sounds like you understand that rhetoric and agree with it,” I said, turning my lips down and pulling my hand away. Disappointed, I thought back to what Rhonda and the ladies explained.
“Understand it but not necessarily agree. Look, Pey, we grew up in the same town, went to the same schools, ran with the same circle of friends, but our life experiences haven’t always been the same. For instance, when I got my first Mercedes coupe out in L.A., I was pulled over by the cops, and they swore the car was stolen. The fact that my pen name and real name are different didn’t help the situation when they asked what I did for a living. As if a brother is incapable of being intelligent and working hard enough to make sure his paper is right and driving a nice whip. That’s not something that would ever happen to you no matter where you go in this world,” Bryce said, shaking his head.
My heart went out to him, but he was right. I didn’t understand his struggle. But I wouldn’t want him to have to walk that journey either, and not alone. No one should have to put up with ignorance. Just because you don’t understand someone’s culture doesn’t mean that person is any less than you.
Biting my bottom lip, it was my turn to take his hand back.
“Bryce, you’re right. I can’t relate to any of that, and I’m sorry that has to be your story. I’m sorry that no matter how many pages you write, books you sell, signings that you do, or millions you make, that won’t change. I’m sorry you have to fight other people’s ignorance just to have a chance in this world to enjoy your dreams. But that doesn’t lessen my desire to want to be your friend any less. I don’t see Bryce, the black man, when I look at you. I see an intelligent, charming man whom I have years of memories with. I see a friend who works hard, has other people’s backs and takes everyone for their word. A good, solid man who anyone would be lucky to call a friend. That’s who I see when I look at you, Bryce.”
I pulled our entwined hands to my lips and pressed a sweet, simple, but friendly kiss to our joined knuckles. But when I looked up, the depth of emotion in Bryce’s eyes was anything but pleasant, sweet, and simple.
Something else lay just beneath the surface, and I wasn’t brave enough to inquire into that any further. The last thing I wanted was to be reminded not to read too much into it. So, instead, I once again pulled our fingers apart and picked at my fingernail.
“Hey, I don’t expect you to understand my walk, Peyton. Just keep being you. That’s all I want and ask for. That’s more than enough for me.”
CHAPTER 7 – BRYCE
“AND YOU THINK YOU’RE going to get all this done in the short week you’re here?” Bishop asked, staring at me in disbelief.
Sighing, I rested my hands on my hips and stared up at the sign Books B4 Boys.
“I believe I can get enough going to swing the momentum in a positive direction. In two weeks, I’ve got a signing in New York. And I’ll have to leave here long before then to get prepared. But I think I can influence enough of a change that when I’m gone, it’ll keep going in the direction it should,” I explained.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Bryx,” Bishop said, calling me by the name the fellas had dubbed on me in our earlier years.
Resting my hand on his shoulder and squeezing it, I said, “So, do I. So, do I.”
Chuckling, Bishop said, “Come on. We’d better get started if we’re going to make an impact.”
Leading the way into the shop, my little brother followed behind me and listened as I outlined my plan. I had spread the word to a few old friends that still lived here and owned their own construction companies.
I’d encouraged Peyton to share the plan with Maggie, and as I’d suspected, it was confirmed in a phone call this morning that she had twenty-three people ready to volunteer.
“Hi, guys!” Peyton greeted us brightly and cheerfully with two mugs of steaming coffee in her hand.
“Thanks, I needed this,” Bishop said, accepting one mug from her hand while I took the other.
“So, you really think this is what I need?”
“I know this is what you need. I’ve spent countless hours in bookstores across the country and even some in other countries. When I say, I know what works and what doesn’t, I need you to believe me. And I know Summer Cove is a small town, but I’m familiar with those, as well. You’ve got all the makings here. You can make a killing off implementing a live venue and coffee bar here in the book store alone.”
“It just all seems like so much,” Peyton replied, eyes wide with wonder.
“Yeah, it is a lot. But it can be done, and when you offer a unique experience to your customers, word spreads quickly. Do you know how far people will travel to visit your book store to deliver the experience they can’t get elsewhere?” Bishop said.
“He’s right. There are several small towns within a twenty-five to a fifty-mile radius of Summer Cove. Date nights, girls’ day out, and stopping in here as part of a shopping trip. I’m telling you, Peyton, people are gonna love this,” I said.
“I hope you’re right,” she said softly.
“I am. Did you break down the volunteer list so that when everyone arrives, they’ll know where they’re working?” I asked
“Uh, yeah, let me finish up a couple of things I was doing in my office, and I’ll bring the sheets back with me,” she said, marching back to her office.
“Give it a moment to sink in, Bryce. Once it does, she’ll get on board, and it’ll take off like hotcakes. Besides, you might be leaving in two weeks, but I’ll still be around to keep an eye on things when I can. And since one of the contractors she’s using is the guy who works on the crew for my facilities, he’ll keep me posted too. I’ll send you updates,” Bishop said.
“Cool,” I replied.
“Who knows you might change your mind on some things,” Bishop said, wearing a smirk.
“Things like what?”
“Living out in L.A. versus returning home.”
Waving his comment off, I shook my head. “Ain’t gonna happen.”
“I’on know, big bruh. I mean, you were pretty adamant that you couldn’t afford to hang around here for a week either. You changed your mind about that. Got here Thursday? And it’s now Monday. You can do your job anywhere. You might decide to relocate if you hang around long enough.”
“Like, I said, ain’t gonna happen,” I replied, walking to the counter where the register was located.
“I’ve seen stranger things,” he called over his shoulder, stepping away to answer his ringing phone.
I used that moment to check my social media and reply to some posts. I had a PA to handle most things for me, but I liked to be in touch every now and then myself.
I’d taken pictures of the store yesterday and the town, in general, to let people know where I was at. They loved the pictures and had fun trying to guess the name of the city.
When I’d finished, I looked around and noticed Bishop was still on his phone call. But Peyton hadn’t reappeared yet.
I made my way to the back where her office was located and stopped in the doorway.
Peyton in repose. A breathtaking sight.
More so than the sight b
efore me was my reaction to her. Increased pulse rate, shallow breathing, dryness of the mouth. What was this?
I wondered at the softness of her thighs and the fullness of her breasts. She’d grown and changed a lot since our college years, and she wasn’t the same pretty girl I used to know. She was strikingly gorgeous.
Peyton sat on a couch in the corner of her office. Long tanned, shapely legs flowing endlessly from denim jean shorts crossed over one another as she sat in the lotus position. The dip in between the soft curve of her breasts drew my eyes there as her chest rose and fell softly. Her palms rested gently in her lap, but her head rested against the back of the couch. Eyes closed, she looked so peaceful.
A slight twist of her lips turned up in a mischievous grin, but her eyes did not open. I briefly wondered if she was dreaming, but she quickly dispelled that theory.
“Are you going to stand there watching me, or come in?”
I chuckled softly. “Well, I was coming back to check on you. I thought you were coming right back after you finished...whatever you were doing,” I pointed out.
“I haven’t finished it yet.”
“Looks to me like you were sleeping.”
“Nope, just meditating. Practicing mindfulness.”
Nodding my head, I said, “Oh, you go to Bishop’s facilities, too?”
“When time permits.”
“Mm.”
“What you don’t believe in the technique?”
“I don’t know...I believe in Christ.”
Her eyes popped open, and head jerked up as she sat up straight in her seat. “So, are you saying that you can’t believe in one without the other? They’re mutually exclusive now?”
“I don’t know. It just sounds like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me. Doesn’t it have its roots in Buddhism as a source of seeking ‘enlightenment’? Meanwhile, you’re meditating; who are you focusing on?”
“Me.”
“You?”
“Yes. I focus on my breathing. My thoughts and ensuring they stay in control and not letting them wander off. And the physical sensations I’m experiencing at the moment. Mindfulness has no religious undertones, which allows anyone to practice it.”
Undeniable: A Friends To Lovers Romance (Love Desired Book 4) Page 5