Sidecar Crush

June had randomly put her finger on her nose. She had a magazine sitting out and she quietly thumbed through the pages, the index finger of her left hand sitting on the tip of her nose.

“What’s that for, June Bug?” Jameson asked, tapping his own nose.

“I’m not it,” she said.

“Not it for what?” Jameson asked. “No one said anything.”

“The pitcher of sangria is low, so I estimate the probability of our waitress asking if we want another in the next several minutes at ninety-seven percent. That will inevitably lead to a rush to decide who’s buying the next pitcher. I’m planning ahead.”

Jameson laughed. “All right, then.”

The waitress walked up and smiled. “Are y’all ready to order? Or can I get you another pitcher of sangria first?”

“Not it,” June said without looking up.

The rest of us touched our noses, a chorus of not it sounding around the table.

“Damn it,” Devlin said. He’d been last. “All right, another pitcher. This one’s on me. I don’t know how you’re all so fast.”

“Years of practice,” Scarlett said, patting his cheek.

We all had a few drinks and ate an enormous breakfast. By the time we were finished, I was so full I thought I might burst. Jameson and I decided to take a stroll around town to walk off some of the food and sangria. He held my coat for me while I slipped my arms in, and put his hand on the small of my back as he led me outside.

The October air was crisp, the warmth of summer long gone. Clouds hung low in the sky, but it was dry. Probably not cold enough to snow, but it wouldn’t be long and Bootleg Springs would be blanketed in white. I couldn’t wait.

We walked down Bathtub Gin Alley to the corner of Lake Street and I stopped.

“Something wrong?” Jameson asked.

“No. I want to show you something.”

I took his hand and led him down Lake Street to an empty storefront. It had once been a novelty shop, but the owners had closed it down some time ago, and it had been sitting ever since. I’d passed it a hundred times and an idea had been forming in my mind. I hadn’t told anyone yet, and just the thought of saying it out loud made my tummy tingle with nerves.

We stopped in front of the store. It had a big for rent sign in the window.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Maybe this is crazy, and if it is, I want you to tell me the truth. But I think I want to open my own boutique. I could sell some of my own pieces, but also clothes and accessories from other designers that fit the style I’m going for. It would be totally unique, a mix of country and trendy fashion. I think it could be a big hit, especially during the tourist season.”

Jameson glanced between me and the store a few times. “Leah Mae, this is genius.”

I bit my bottom lip. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I love this idea. You have a great sense of style. All the girls think so.”

“I don’t know a lot about owning a business, but I could learn,” I said. “I’ve been looking into some online business classes to start.”

Jameson smiled, making my heart squeeze. He cupped my face in his strong hands and kissed me. “I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I have to see if I have enough savings to get it started. I should be close.”

“Well, if not, we should talk to June.”

“June? Why?”

“She’s something of an investor here in Bootleg,” he said. “She helped Lula open the spa, and gave Clarabell and Whit a loan to do some updates to Moonshine.”

“That’s amazing,” I said. “You think she’d help me open my boutique?”

“I reckon she would. We’ll need a solid business plan. Juney likes numbers. But she can even help with that. She’s great at it.”

“Wow. How does she have money to invest in all these businesses?”

He shrugged. “She works for a big company out of Annapolis. Smart as she is, I reckon she makes a good living. She likes to invest that money in small businesses, especially here in Bootleg. Even I worked with her a few years back.”

“So I could really do this.” I reached out and touched the glass window. I’d been so afraid to say it out loud—afraid it would sound like a terrible idea.