Ginger smiled. “Wonderful. I’ll be off work on Tuesday and Wednesday anyway. I return to the boutique on Thursday. So that’s perfect.”
Maya smiled. So now the woman who had helped her father was helping Maya too. Ginger was like a fairy godmother, but all wishes ran out at midnight, right? How long would it be before the Ginger goodness ended?
Maya didn’t know, but it was best to accept it. Her bills were calling. And so was Laura’s directive.
Chapter Three
On Thursday morning, Derek arrived at Always a Bride intent on talking to Ginger about the financials. They were so busy the past weekend and on Monday that he didn’t have time to mention it. Now he would sit down with her and figure out a plan to save the business before he lost it.
That would be the worst. All of his mother’s hard work would be flushed down the toilet. He wanted to figure this out before Ginger retired in a week. A week! Ever since Ginger told him she planned on retiring back in January, they’d searched and searched for an adequate replacement but to no avail. Once Ginger left, he could become a bridal shop flop.
Derek sighed. What would he do without her? She was the backbone of this place.
He’d brought Jamila along today. He hoped to get her engaged in working with him too. “Hey, Jamila. You want to help me straighten up some of the displays that were rearranged yesterday?”
“No.” She tossed her backpack on the register’s counter.
The sight of his daughter ripped off a piece of his heart. Hunched over and sullen, she wore a black hoodie, black jeans, and black sneakers, overly dressed for this warm spring day. Her dark, curly hair was dry and lackluster around her russet face. He wouldn’t allow his daughter to check out on him emotionally. She was his only family left. “Okay, hon. You let me know if you change your mind.”
She headed to the break room in the rear. The door slammed shut behind her.
O-kay. So much for father-daughter bonding time.
As soon as Derek flipped on the store lights, the sound of familiar laughter greeted him.
His fingertips numbed, tingly and cool. The sensation sped up his forearms and cloaked his shoulders. Was that Grace?
He headed near the sound, and he spotted a petite young woman in a coral sundress and brown sandals. She rested her elbows on the jewelry counter, gold bangles jangling on her wrists. With pin-straight black hair falling loosely around her golden-brown shoulders, the woman looked enough like Grace to make his heart stutter. Upbeat. Confident.
He blinked a couple more times, a feeble attempt to steady himself. Those few seconds erased the similarities. He was lonely. That was all. The woman before him had the same build and coloring, but Grace had a simple, laid-back style, while this woman seemed like a go-getter.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
The air conditioner rumbled to life and blew cool air through the overhead vents. She brushed her hands over her bare arms as if to warm herself. Derek glanced at her left hand. No ring.
She must’ve noticed him staring, because she hid her hand underneath the wedding gown she held. Was a lack of an engagement ring a sore spot for her?
Then she stood taller, as if regaining composure, no longer relying on the jewelry counter for support.
Derek held her gaze for a moment, and a current passed between them. Goose bumps prickled on his forearms. Must be a draft from the air-conditioning.
When Derek remained silent, the woman smiled. “This shop has a lot of character,” she said, brown eyes glimmering. Her lashes were dark and thick, framing her rounded eyes perfectly.
“It definitely has character.” Derek pushed aside his subtle attraction. Taking care of his daughter and taking care of the store were his only concerns. “How can I help you?” he repeated.
“I’m visiting South Carolina. I’m looking to sell a few of my wedding gowns and bridesmaid dresses while I’m here.”
Derek would have to replace the dress Bridezilla had ripped. The last thing he needed was damaged merchandise. He needed to bring in income, not lose it.
“Derek!” Ginger’s voice called from behind. “There you are. Good morning.”
“Morning,” Derek said, still wondering about this woman.
“I wanted you to meet this lovely young lady, Maya Jackson. She’s a bridal gown designer and Carl’s daughter. You remember Carl, right, Derek?” Ginger winked.
Derek rolled his eyes. Carl was Ginger’s “friend.” According to Ginger, Carl started attending New Life, and they became an item a few months ago. Derek hadn’t been to New Life since Grace died in the mass shooting at the church. He wasn’t stepping foot in that place ever again. “Yes, Ginger. I remember.”
“No need to roll your eyes at me.” Ginger swatted his shoulder as if he were a child. “Carl fractured his hip. Maya’s in town temporarily to help her father get back on his feet.”
Derek glanced at Maya. What was the point of this conversation? He had to talk to Ginger about the financials. “Good to know.”
“I was so worried when the doctor told us the news.” Ginger grabbed a scarf from the rack and folded it neatly into fourths. “Hip fractures are major. Carl is a fighter. He’ll get well soon.”
That was sad to hear about this lady’s father, but he had his own problems to handle. “Ginger, do you have a minute? We need to discuss something very important.”
“Sure. Sure.” She waved him off. “But first . . . I wanted to introduce you to Maya.”
O-kay. “We met already.”
“Maya needs to gather some income until she returns to New York at the end of June.”
“Maya told me that she wants to sell some of her dresses,” Derek said.
“We should take a look at them.” Ginger showed Maya’s portfolio to Derek. “See this one right here?”
He saw. It was a nice dress, but he wasn’t thinking about buying dresses. He was thinking about getting out of this financial hole.
“What’s the wholesale price?” Ginger asked Maya.
“Seventeen hundred dollars wholesale.”
“Great. We’ll take it,” Ginger said.
Derek’s alarms went off. Seventeen hundred dollars? That was pricey. “We can’t afford that, Ginger. It’s not in our inventory budget.”
“It is now.” She smiled at Maya. “When can you bring the dress?”
“I can bring it over tomorrow morning.”
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa,” Derek said. “This is not a thing that we’re doing, Ginger. This is definitely not a thing that we’re doing. We really need to talk about this business.”
“You don’t want to purchase just one dress from Maya?” Ginger asked, her voice pleading and judging all at once. How did she manage that?
“Not even one.” Derek glanced at Maya. “Sorry, ma’am. I can’t take on another expense. I have to figure out how to keep us from foreclosure. I hope you understand.”
“Foreclosure?!” Ginger said. “When do you go into foreclosure?”
“In two months if I can’t come up with the missed mortgage payments,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell you because I thought I could’ve handled it by now. That’s what I wanted to talk about, Ginger.”
Maya shifted her weight from side to side, apparently uncomfortable. “I get it. I guess I’ll be on my way.”
“Do you have a business card?” Ginger asked. “I’d still like to keep you in mind. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” She raised her brow at Derek, and he soon felt like that little kid at Sunday school again.
“Sure thing.” Maya dug in her purse and handed one over to Ginger.
“Derek’s being stubborn,” Ginger said to Maya. “Your talents are going to bless many a blushing bride.”
“How kind of you to say.” Maya smiled.
A glow from an overhead spotlight spilled over her, and Derek’s pulse revved two notches. Maya was beautiful. For a stretch of time, all else faded into oblivion.
Maya stepped to the left,
away from the spotlight. Derek pushed aside his attraction. He wasn’t ready to be interested in someone again. He would never be ready, to be honest. “Have a nice day, Maya.”
After she left, Derek redirected his attention to Ginger. “I need to speak with you about the store.”
“I just can’t believe we’re about to be foreclosed on, Derek. You should’ve told me earlier.”
He paused. “I know. How will I run this place? How will I get out of this financial hole? I know you’re retiring, but you’ve been here with my mother from the beginning. You know everything about this place. If you’re retiring, then my only other option is to sell.”
Sadness flitted across her features. “Sell?”
“Sell,” Derek said. “Marlon said my options were bankruptcy or selling.”
“That’s what you’re gonna do?”
“I have no other choice.”
“Your mother worked too hard for you to up and sell it from under her.” Ginger stared at Derek. “She would be mortified to even hear of it.”
The guilt set in. His mother had invested so much into this place. It was her lifeline after his father left them, and in a way, it was his lifeline too. Coming to work here every day was his way of remaining connected to her memory, and Grace’s too. “I know that. I don’t want to sell. I was hoping we’d discuss a way to make this place thrive, but you’re leaving. I’ve been in the military for twenty years of my life. Weddings and bridal gowns are not my forte. You saw me here during the sale the other day. You saw me flounder with the customers here. You’ve got to stay.”
“I don’t think you should sell this place either. This business is practically a historical landmark. It’s right there with Gadsden’s Wharf and the Black history museum down the block. They’re trying to shut down the museum, you know. New Life Church is trying to keep it running. If the boutique closes too, that’ll be a double whammy. Your mother made history when she opened this shop in the eighties. You’ve got to keep it running for the culture.”
“For the culture”? Derek didn’t know Ginger was so woke. Even still, maintaining Mother’s legacy was a costly burden to bear. Yes, he had the memories, but the place was draining his pockets daily. “Your retiring isn’t gonna help.”
“That’s why I brought Maya over. I didn’t tell her that, but it was in my thinking,” Ginger said. “She would be a great replacement.”
“Isn’t she only in town temporarily?”
“Yes, but I think she’d be able to fill in the gap until you found a more permanent replacement. We’ve been trying to find an adequate replacement for a while, and my last day is soon.”
Her mention of a “last day” made Derek’s stomach tighten. “You’ve been here for thirty-four years. How will Maya learn the ropes?”
“She’s not a newbie at this business. She can do it. You can do it too. I have full faith in you. Don’t forget that you are your mother’s son. Even though you may not have bridal shop experience and customer service skills and people skills and—”
“And all the skills and know-how that’s needed to run this place,” Derek said.
“You have your mother’s heart. You know how much this place meant to her. That’s enough to help you fill in any gaps.”
Gaps like business debt? He doubted it. “I can’t do this on my own, Ginger. Even if Maya wanted to fill in temporarily, I can’t run this place without you.” Derek wanted to say more, but he left those words unspoken. The words about how inadequate he felt not just with the store, but with relating to Jamila. The words about how Ginger had guided him through the aftermath of his wife’s death and his mother’s death. Ginger was an anchor during those moments when he’d almost fallen apart.
“You’ll do good, son,” Ginger said, smiling. “I believe in you. I’m going to get some breakfast. You need anything?”
I need you to stay at the boutique and help me run it. “Nothing for me. But you can grab a vegetable omelet and orange juice for Jamila. She’s sulking in the back.”
She paused. “You’ll take care of Jamila too.” Ginger placed Maya’s business card in his hands. “Call this lady. She will change your life. Believe me.”
After Ginger left, Derek studied the business card. Call her after he just turned her down? That would come across as inconsistent on his part. It wasn’t like she would agree to working here temporarily, especially if she was some fancy New York designer.
He could also find some other way, but with Ginger leaving he’d be doing most of the work himself.
What now? The most logical thing would be to sell this place, but there was history on the line. There was his mother’s dream to uphold.
And there was his guilt to ease.
Jamila was very attached to this place too, even if she sulked around him. Her gloom had more to do with him than with the store. Jamila grew up in this little boutique. If he sold it, his daughter would be crushed. The last thing he needed was to let her down again. He was having enough trouble connecting with his daughter already.
Right now, he didn’t have any other choice.
“Guess, I’ll have to call Maya after all,” he said to the mannequin next to him. “You think she would be interested in being a temporary employee for a bridal shop?”
The mannequin didn’t respond. Derek didn’t have an answer either, but Ginger believed in Maya. So Derek would call her and ask.
The following day, Maya started the ignition of her father’s gray sedan and drove to the bank. She still thought about her meeting with Derek. That was a wasted attempt to make a dress sale. That Derek guy didn’t even want to take one look at her portfolio. Why was Ginger so insistent on getting Maya down to the store if Derek was so close-minded about everything?
If she didn’t bring in any income soon, she’d be behind on the rent for her New York studio apartment. She needed her residence, much like she needed to keep her job. This whole leave-without-pay stuff was tough, especially after witnessing how careless Pops was with bills. Who knew if he was behind on payments? He was so disorganized.
Hopefully her meeting with the bank loan officer would go well today. If her application for a loan was approved, Maya’s finances would be more stable, family emergency or not. The loan would also help cover some of her father’s uninsured medical costs too. Some. Health insurance was tricky these days.
Too bad Derek Sullivan didn’t place an order on the spot, though. Maya preferred cash income over additional debts any day.
Derek was good-looking. Didn’t appear to be the emotional type. He must harbor sadness inside. His clipped speech and steady gaze told her as much.
Besides, she could recognize loss a mile away.
Maya Jackson refused to get angsty about the losses in her life. Or sour. If it weren’t for her persistence, she would turn into a ball of self-pitying mush. A jilted bride, Maya refused to put herself in a position where she’d get her heart broken again. Maya and Rex, her ex-fiancé, were together for three long years. Sigh. She’d remain focused on her career.
Thankfully, she still had faith. Faith would lead to a loan approval. Right now, she was barely making it. She needed this loan yesterday.
Maya jerked her car into the parking lot of Charleston Community Bank. A smattering of vehicles were parked here and there. Maya checked the digital clock on the dashboard. Five minutes until her appointment time. She whipped the steering wheel, parked her car, and booked it to the bank’s entrance, hoping the loan officer wouldn’t notice her rushing.
The security guard swung open the front door, and she stepped inside the air-conditioned bank. Maya whistled an upbeat melody, striding to the customer service desk. Her heels clacked on the tile, a resounding noise in the silent bank. A couple of patrons turned in her direction and frowned. Maya smiled and kept walking.
While Maya had recovered from her last blood transfusion, she’d spent a few hours preparing this loan application, creating a financial statement that proved she was creditwo
rthy. Everything was pitch perfect. That guaranteed the bank’s approval.
Whistling, Maya waited in line. When her turn arrived, eagerness got the best of her. She bumped into a baby stroller, said a quick “Excuse me,” and extended her hand to the receptionist.
Still smiling.
“You made it just in time,” a twangy voice called from behind.
Maya turned and saw a sixty-something, rail-thin woman in a navy suit, with a severely tight bun, glaring at her. The lady didn’t seem too friendly. Please don’t let this be the loan officer. “Ma’am?” she said in her most cordial voice.
“I’m Ursula Evans. You Maya Jackson, the fashion designer?”
“That’s me.”
The older woman gave Maya a once-over. “I can tell by those fancy-schmancy clothes. Follow me.” The woman did an about-face, and Maya hustled behind her.
Seconds later, they entered a cramped, cluttered office. The walls were littered with plaques engraved with the name “Ursula Evans”: one for five years of service, another for ten, another for twenty, another for thirty, and still another for forty full years of service. The woman even had a plaque for never using a sick day for two decades. The office teemed with boxes of file folders stuffed with papers. If someone lit a match in the place, it would instantly burst into flames.
“Have a seat,” the loan officer ordered.
Maya couldn’t find the chair.
The woman grunted, lifted two banker’s boxes from a seat, and dropped them on the floor. A flurry of dust bunnies floated up to Maya’s nose, causing her to sneeze.
“You got a cold?”
“Er, no, ma’am.” Maya pulled a Kleenex from her black clutch and blew her nose.
“Good. I’m sixty-five years old, and my immune system is shot. I can’t afford to suffer from a contagious disease. Especially now that I’m retiring and my monthly pension will be slashed in half due to the bad economy.”
Maya offered a cheeky grin. Focus on the positive. “Congratulations on your retirement.”
“Nothing to congratulate. I was forced into it. Now, why do you want our money?”
A Lowcountry Bride Page 4