“I’m not even questioning it anymore. You’re obviously in some weird type of shit with them, but if you trust them, then I do too. Because I trust you. Do you want to renovate the loft or the shop first?”
“Can’t we do both?” I asked.
“Two construction crews out here might be a bit much. I’d start with the loft so we can keep working at the bar for money for inventory. Then, once the loft is up to code and you’ve got outside access to it, you can move your shit in, and I can help you pick out all your furniture while they’re doing up our business.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I said.
“And in the meantime, I’ll start spreading rumors about the new shop that has customizable shit and patchwork skills. You know Lucas Corner needs something like that ever since Miss Bev died.”
“I miss her,” I said.
“Me, too. But we can honor her by opening this repair shop and making a ton of cash,” Lindy said.
“I like the way you think,” I said, grinning.
The two of us sat down in the middle of the floor and started researching contractors. She was looking up teams to do the renovation of the shop as I was calling around for people who could bring the loft up to code for a living space. I found three trusted contractors who were willing to come out and give me quotes on Monday, so I set up staggered appointments with all of them to see who could offer me the best price. Lindy was calling around to other contractors trying to figure out who was the best at the business end of things, and she found only one reputable source that pretty much everyone in town used.
So, Lindy got her on the phone, and they had a conversation.
Once we were done, we had appointments set, and it was time to go set up for work. Lindy and I headed straight to the bar as we talked about appointment times and budgets we needed to stay within. We set our limits and figured out what we could do without in the store if things pushed us over budget. Then we shut our mouths once it was time to work. We knew our boss wouldn’t hold anything over our heads, but in this town, you didn’t take any chances. The longer we could work here and get decent tips, the more money we had to work with in the long run.
And that was important, especially since I didn’t want to rely on the brothers to float me when I needed it.
I expected them to come in that night, but only my mother showed up. Her eyes scanned the bar as she pushed her way toward it, then hiked her leg up and sat herself down.
“You got any of that decent whiskey?” she asked.
“You got money?” I asked.
She slapped a twenty down onto the table, and I poured her a shot.
“So. Where are those hunks of yours?” my mother asked.
“Haven’t seen them tonight,” I said.
“Interesting.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Nothing. I was wondering when they would move on is all.”
I rolled my eyes as I wiped down the counter. Lindy approached me and sighed, nodding her head over to my mother. There was nothing we could do since she was a paying customer and not drunk off her ass yet, so I shrugged and kept plugging on.
“You know what? I just had an idea,” Lindy said.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Pink fucking leather. We’d sell out of that stuff in a heartbeat,” she said.
“That’s pretty expensive shit,” I said.
“Just a few pieces to see how they’d do. If we only paid five hundred out of pocket for a few items, we could easily absorb the cost and see how they sell. We wouldn't mark them down. It would be one of our high-end items.”
“The point of the store is to keep it affordable,” I said.
“But even the affordable stores have that one item that can’t be found anywhere else. Where the hell are the girls going to get pink leather in this town?” she asked.
“Nowhere. Because decent women who ride bikes don’t do pink,” my mother said.