“For you to wear?” Maya inquired.
“Yes.”
“Then we definitely have to try on a scarf. Just to figure out the best color scheme for you. Want to try them on?”
Jamila paused a moment. “Sure.”
“Sure”? Did his daughter just say “sure”? Amazing.
Derek stood back, intrigued by this conversation. The most Jamila had spoken to him was the other week when she was staring at pictures of her mother. Since then, it was back to the usual.
Yet Maya—Maya had got her talking. Maya had skills.
“Let’s see how these scarves look on you in front of the mirror,” Maya said, gesturing for her to stand close.
Jamila stood in front of a full-length mirror, while Maya stood behind her.
“What do you think, Jamila?” Maya asked.
Maya held a burnt-orange scarf and gracefully wrapped it around Jamila’s shoulders. “Warm colors bring out your rich skin tone. See? You’re definitely a fall, not a spring.”
Jamila stared at her reflection in the mirror, expressionless. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Definitely. Fall is the best season. Cool weather. Leaves are falling.”
“I used to play in the leaves when I was a little kid.” Jamila shrugged. “Not anymore.”
Maya smiled. “Oh, you’re too big to play in the leaves these days, huh?”
“No. I stopped playing when . . . never mind.” A shadow fell across Jamila’s face.
Maya glanced over at Derek, and his heart pinched. Jamila stopped playing after Grace died.
“I think if you have clothes in deep reds and oranges and golds, they’ll really bring out your gorgeous skin tone, Jamila. A deep purple would look fabulous on you too. You’d look like royalty.”
Jamila’s mouth curved upward slightly. “Like a queen?”
“Yes. An African queen,” Maya said, adjusting the scarf on her shoulders. “Do you have a pattern for the dress or the T-shirt? Have you decided on something for your project yet?”
“Nope.”
“How about a simple sheath dress? I think it’ll look great on you.”
“Sheath dress?” Derek said. “Are those tight? If so, she’s too young.”
“Dad, I’ll be in eighth grade next year. They’re not tight either.”
Maya rolled her eyes. “It’s very modest attire, if that’s what you’re worried about, Derek.”
No need to push this issue. Perhaps he was being a tad overprotective of Jamila. And besides, what did he know about fashion? Nothing. Derek pursed his lips.
“I don’t need help with my school project. I can do it on my own.” Jamila glanced at the items on the counter. “Can I try on the gold ponytail holder?”
“Sure you can.” Maya grabbed the ponytail holder and placed it in Jamila’s hand. “You have such gorgeous hair. Doing a good job taking care of it, Dad.”
“I don’t do Jamila’s hair. She does it all herself.”
Maya raised her brows, impressed. “You’ve got skills, Jamila.”
“I watched a lot of internet videos after . . .” Jamila’s voice trailed off. “Lots and lots of internet videos.”
His heart broke. After Grace died. That was what Jamila didn’t say. Jamila started doing her own hair after Grace died, and Jamila never let Derek braid or comb or twist her hair or anything. He tried to do Jamila’s hair once, and she nearly flipped out.
“Can I put this in your hair?” Maya asked.
Jamila twisted her mouth. “Sure.”
“Sure”? This was incredible.
Maya fluffed out Jamila’s curls, and then she stepped back, assumedly to take a better look.
Watching Maya brought up memories of his wife getting Jamila ready for church on Sunday mornings. She would always do Jamila’s hair in four pigtails with a white ribbon tied on the end of each.
“What do you think of her scarf and the ponytail holder, Derek?” Maya asked.
Derek studied Jamila’s new accessories. She looked like a lovely young lady. “Beautiful.” His voice held the love of a father. “Your mother would be so proud.”
Jamila’s face changed from soft to hard. “Mother. She should be doing my hair now. Not you, Maya.” Jamila took two steps back.
Maya’s shoulders slumped, and she looked away. “I’m sorry. I . . . uh . . .”
Derek’s heart folded in on itself. Why’d he say something? Now he’d ruined the moment.
Jamila was right. Grace should be doing Jamila’s hair. Grace should be helping Jamila with her dress project.
Yet Grace was gone, and there was nothing he could do to change that fact.
The following day, Maya arrived at the bridal boutique fifteen minutes early and sat at the front register. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jamila. The girl must hate Maya, and for good reason. Jamila felt like Maya was trying to replace her mother, and that wasn’t the case.
If only Maya could give Jamila a hug and tell her it would be okay, but who was Maya fooling? Jamila couldn’t stand her.
Today Maya would try to make peace with Jamila, but how? There wasn’t much that Maya could do in that department. Perhaps Maya would just be a friendly face and let Jamila know that she’s only there to work, nothing more.
It’s not like she was Derek’s girlfriend.
She didn’t want to be Derek’s girlfriend. Period.
Maya would explain all this clearly to Jamila. That was a good enough plan. She checked her watch. Jamila should be arriving at the boutique in an hour or so.
A few feet away, the door to Derek’s office was half-open. The sound of tapping on a keyboard snapped Maya out of her thoughts. Was that Derek? Sounded like he was stressed. She headed toward the back of the store, closer to the sound of the noise.
That was Derek all right. His mouth was scrunched, and the lines around his eyes deepened. He looked kinda cute with that worried expression on his face.
“Hey,” Maya said. “You okay?”
Derek shrugged. “Just trying to make these numbers balance out. This boutique is a money pit. I don’t know what to do with this place anymore. I’ve run out of ideas. If we don’t bring in more revenue, I’ll have to take Marlon’s advice and sell this business or go into foreclosure in six weeks.”
“Sell or foreclosure?”
He blinked. “I don’t know what else to do.”
She shifted her weight from side to side. “If you need assistance bringing in more sales, I can help.”
“I’m open to all ideas.” Derek scrubbed his hand over his face. “The last thing I need is for Jamila to be mad at me over selling the business.”
“She would be mad if the store closed? That wouldn’t be your fault.”
“Jamila wouldn’t think so. You’ve already seen how hard it is for us to relate.”
Maya didn’t respond. No need to rub in the obvious. “When Jamila returns from school today, I was thinking I could have a talk with her. Clear up any misconceptions she may have about me.”
The lines around Derek’s eyes deepened. “I’m afraid you won’t get to do that. Jamila refuses to come to the store while you work here. She’s going home with a friend today, and I’ll have to pick her up later.”
So Maya’s presence was driving a wedge between Derek and his daughter, and Maya had been here only one day. What could happen on the second day? “If I’m that much of a problem, perhaps I shouldn’t work here.”
“No. No. No. You have nothing to do with my failures as a parent. This is something between me and Jamila. I want you to stay.”
This was even more out of sorts that Derek was asking her to stay. “You sure?”
“I’m positive.”
Jamila could think Derek was taking sides. “I don’t want to get in between you and your daughter.”
“You aren’t. I need your experience, especially since Ginger is no longer working here.”
“All right then. I’ll stay.” Maya exhaled. “If things ever get too
tense with you, your daughter, and me, I can look for another way to cover my bills while I’m down here.”
“I understand, and I appreciate that you’re willing to do that. Hopefully things won’t get to that point.”
He sounded sincere, but Maya could sense his internal tug-of-war. It must be hard to try to balance pleasing his daughter with running this business. “I guess it’s a good thing I’ll be here for a few short months. You can always tell that to Jamila. She can return here as soon as I leave.”
Derek was silent, and he twiddled his thumbs, apparently taking in Maya’s words. After a few seconds, he said, “What did you have in mind for this place? You said you were willing to help.”
“Trunk shows.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“They’re events that would showcase high-end designer clothing at discounted prices. We could have a theme for the trunk show. They’re a wonderful way to get brides to try new designs, and, of course, purchase those designs.”
“How is that different from the sale I had a few weeks ago?”
Maya immediately went into sales-pitch mode. She had put on many a trunk show during her time up in New York. “The trunk show’s appeal is its exclusivity. It’s held for a limited time and the invited guests would get to preview dresses that aren’t open to the public. They’d get discounted prices too. Whenever I put on a trunk show, I also like to add in a personal touch and make it feel like a party with close friends instead of a sales event.”
“Oh, so you’re saying the sale I held was a little low budget? That I targeted it to bargain hunters versus women with ‘high-end retail experience’?” Derek joked.
“Perhaps.”
“I’ll take that jab. Like I said, I need all the help I can get. What would we need to do?”
Maya hesitated. How would she bring this up? “I think a rebrand is in order for this business.”
“A rebrand?” he asked.
“Yes. When was the last time this place was remodeled?”
Derek paused. “I couldn’t even tell you. It was definitely before I took over. Way, way, way before I took over.”
“I think with a good rebranding—some new carpet, some fresh paint, and a new logo—you could draw new attention to this place. Even changing the floor layout will do wonders for this store and attract clientele. It’ll exude a high-end yet homegrown feel.”
Derek rested his chin in his hands, his eyes filled with admiration. “You see all of that for this little old boutique?”
“Yes, I do.” Her voice wavered. Lordy. Why’d she have to sound like that? This was a professional conversation, but the intense way he looked at Maya made her shook.
He didn’t take his eyes away from her. This was both unwieldy and comforting. Unwieldy in the sense that she wasn’t checking for a guy, especially someone like Derek. His daughter basically couldn’t stand her. Yet it was also comforting. There was an ease about Derek that made her feel like she could slow down, take a breath, and not be all about the hustle.
Derek smiled. She smiled in return. If only life were as easy as this little moment in time.
It wasn’t. These kinds of moments never lasted.
“You’ve probably deduced that I don’t have the funds to hire folks to paint a store, put in a new carpet, and all that. So while I appreciate the idea of a trunk show, I can’t contract folks to do that labor. I can’t spend all that money on the supplies.”
“So you’re not going to remodel this place?”
“It definitely needs a remodel, but I need a cost-effective solution. I can do the work myself, but I’m already doing a lot.”
Maya didn’t want to take time away from caring for her father to help at the store. He was the reason she came down in the first place. If she spent more time at this place for renovations, then it’d take away from father-daughter time. Besides, this job was only a means to cover her bills. It wasn’t the be-all and end-all of her career. Getting that promotion, on the other hand, was the be-all and end-all of her career. Laura hadn’t responded yet to Maya’s dress design sketches, but she would soon. Maya’s stomach flipped at the thought.
“Could you help with some of the remodeling work too?” Derek asked, interrupting her thoughts. “It could cut down on costs.”
Maya’s suggestion meant that she also volunteered herself. “You want me to work extra hours?”
“I would pay you for those hours, of course. I wouldn’t want you to do anything physically strenuous. I can put in the new carpeting myself. It’ll take longer since I’m DIY-ing it, but it can be done.”
“Hmm.” Maya tapped her finger on her chin, thinking.
“No pressure or anything. You can still take your father to his appointments. I know you have other obligations that are more important. However, if you’re interested, perhaps we could brainstorm some of your ideas today after the shop closes. Then we could head out to the hardware store on Sunday morning. Let me know.”
If she worked extra hours here, that would also mean that Ginger could possibly spend extra time caring for her father. That would be great. Ginger was retired, so she had even more time to bond with Pops. Maya didn’t want to return to New York knowing that his relationship with Ginger was a superficial one. He didn’t have any family in Charleston.
The thought of her father and Ginger ever breaking up tugged at Maya. Her father would be heartbroken and alone again.
“You look deep in thought,” he said, laughing. “Hey, it was an idea, but we don’t have to go through with it if that’s not your thing. I understand.”
He really didn’t understand. Not in the least.
“I have to pick up Jamila from her friend’s house shortly,” he added. “I’m pretty sure that she’s having the time of her life with her friend and all, but I’d like to spend as much quality time with her as I can.”
That’s when it hit her again. Quality time with Pops. That opportunity would be gone once she returned to New York. Could Maya trust that her father and Ginger would still be solid—even after she left?
Even if it didn’t work out between them, Maya would have to trust that Pops would be okay in the end. Working on this extra project with Derek would also require that Maya let go of her expectations of what Pops’s happiness looked like. Well, not fully let go, but at least a little bit. Ginger could check in on her father on the days that Maya worked late. It would definitely help Maya to earn some overtime cash. That would be a good thing.
“Let me call my father and let him know that I’ll be working a little late today,” Maya said.
Derek’s eyes lit up. “So you’re willing to help out with the renovation?”
“As long as you’re willing to pay me and I can figure out the logistics with my father.” She smiled.
“Cool.”
Maya left and headed over to the store’s landline and dialed her home number. Her father picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, honey,” Maya’s father said. “I saw the store’s number on the caller ID. You’re checking in on me again. I told you everything was fine.”
She cracked two knuckles. Now that she was actually on the phone and had to say something, had to actually show some trust, she was all nervous.
“Maya? You still there?”
“I’m still here. I was just calling because, well, um . . .” Say it, Maya. Just say it. “I wanted to let you know that I’ll probably be working late tonight . . . and for a couple of nights after that. There’s a big project going on here at the bridal shop, and Derek needs the extra help. I’m still taking you to physical therapy. That hasn’t changed.”
“I’m glad you’re spending more time at the boutique. That’s great.”
That’s it? That’s all he had to say? No Oh, darling, I wanted to spend more time with you while you were here? None of that. “I was also thinking that perhaps Ginger could make you dinner tonight or something. I don’t know. It was just an idea.” Maya’s voice turned all
warbly. This letting-go stuff was hard.
There was silence on the other end, which made Maya’s heart ramp up a couple of beats.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll call Ginger . . . And, Maya?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll be okay. You know this, right?”
He would be okay. No matter what. “I know.” Maya said a quick goodbye and hung up the phone. She actually did it. Now all she had to do was focus on this store stuff.
Derek waved at her and called out. “Everything good?”
“It is. I’ll stay here late today.”
“Excellent. Operation Save Always a Bride shall begin,” he said.
And Operation Save Maya would begin too, because the way Derek winked at her just now made her entire body warm.
Chapter Six
The following Sunday morning, Derek arrived at the hardware store fifteen minutes before it opened. Maya’s sedan wasn’t in the parking lot yet. The thought of her arrival made him jittery. Or perhaps it was the three cups of black coffee that he’d downed getting ready for this day.
He hoped this remodel and trunk show would help him bring in enough profit to catch up on the late mortgage payments. He had a little more than a month to pay the bank, which refused to work out an alternative payment arrangement. Derek already started marketing and advertising for the trunk show in anticipation of the event. Hopefully, this plan would work.
Derek turned off his ignition and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He decided against bringing Jamila along today. No need for more drama. She went to New Life with Ginger this morning. Maybe one day, he’d make Sunday morning services a norm again.
Another part of him didn’t see the point in returning to church or doing anything spiritual. For what? Why try to talk to God when God obviously didn’t have his best interests in mind? Two deaths in the span of a few years was more than he could bear. Nope, not even going there.
He bit his inner lip. Then again, Jamila was so excited about the youth group’s cookout, which New Life was hosting next week. Her excitement was refreshing, and he really wanted to be a part of it—that is, he wanted to spend time with his daughter at the cookout. The fact that the cookout was to raise money for a new building and to donate to the Black history museum and the church’s Black History Society was a good thing too. Perhaps he would go. It wasn’t like attending a place of worship since it would be at a park. It was a way to move forward after the tragedy three years ago, move forward in his own way.
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