Page 68 of Happy Endings

“Yeah, it’s a lot.” Trixie realized how not ready she was to start her business. Winning the contest would cover her rent and some setup costs, but not enough to make her comfortable. In her mind it seemed so easy. Take the prize money, open the shop, and boom! Customers would come. That part of her goal had been a dream for so long, but she’d enjoyed the dreaming part more than actual research. Because she thought she had plenty of time to figure it out. She needed a crash course from the Boss Babes, who all had their own spaces.

Trixie was scared. What if the store—what ifshefailed? She had no backup plan. No way would she go crawling back to her parents again. Maybe she should stick with Bedroom Frenzy. Or find a more stable, practical job like her parents had suggested too many times.

“Are you okay, Trixie?” Kait asked. “If you’re feeling overwhelmed, I suggest you talk to the Small Business Administration. They have lots of resources for women business owners.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.” This had been a mistake. She didn’t need to set herself up to fail. Not when she was at the top of her game at Bedroom Frenzy. Her chest tightened. She needed fresh air.

“We have to go. I have another appointment.” Trixie grabbed Andre and pushed him out of the store.

Chapter 26

Andre let Trixie push him out the door. Once outside, he stuck his hands in his pockets and walked back to Mama Hazel’s. He looked straight ahead, because it hurt to look at the shiny new chain stores and boutiques.

Instead of designer clothing stores, he saw the fried fish takeout place that used to live on that corner. The one where he and Xavier would share the five-dollar plate as kids. Or the hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant next to it that gave him fortune cookies for sweeping their stoop. Mr. Chen passed away while he was in New Orleans. Their kids convinced Mrs. Chen to close the restaurant and move in with them in California.

All that history had been demolished to build District Market. The fucking town center changed everything good in his life. Ruined it. Took away small businesses. Brought in so much competition it forced his mom to work herself so hard that she neglected to see her doctor for regular checkups.

He hated it and everything it stood for. Now Trixie wanted to open her boutique here of all places.

“Andre, you’ve been very quiet.” Trixie huffed, trying to keep up with him. “What did you think of the store?”

He increased his pace. Behind him, her breathing became labored as she tried to catch up. He shouldn’t take out his anger at the town center on Trixie. Andre stopped so she could catch up.

“You’re upset about something,” Trixie sputtered between catching her breath.

“Not here.” He searched the people around them to make sure there was no one who knew him. He couldn’t be sure and didn’t want anyone in public to overhear him.

“What aren’t you telling me, Andre?”

“I have to get back and help set up for dinner tonight. The community depends on us,” he said, still looking ahead. He couldn’t look at her. Andre was relieved he hadn’t invited her to dinner that night.

He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead, he resumed his brisk pace back to the restaurant. She huffed behind him, breathing too hard to speak. Soon the sign to Mama Hazel’s appeared before them.

Trixie sped up and stepped in front of him. He had to stop, or he’d knock her over.

“Are you mad at me?” she demanded.

Andre wanted to be happy for her, but he couldn’t. Not right now. She deserved to know what was happening with Mr. Jackson and the building. Seeing her gush over the co-op in District Market—it hurt. To see her moving forward with her dreams while Mama Hazel’s death was imminent. It wasn’t fair. He hated that he felt that way. He walked around her to the back of the restaurant.

“Seriously?! You’re mad at me about something and you won’t tell me why?” She threw her hands in the air but followed him through the back door, all the way into his office.

“This is so typical,” she gasped. Sweat was dripping down thesides of her face. Her breasts heaved as she tried to catch her breath.

He grabbed a bottle of water from his desk drawer and handed it to her. Trixie collapsed onto the futon in his office. The cap clicked as she twisted it off and downed half the bottle.

Even through his anger, Andre couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Trixie looked with a sheen of sweat on her face. The same way she glowed after their lovemaking during New Orleans’ humid nights.

“Why can’t you just tell me how you feel?” she demanded once the bottle of water was empty.

“You want to know what’s bothering me? Fine!” Andre twisted the cap off a new bottle so hard, water splashed all over the papers on his desk. Ignoring the spill, he squeezed the water into his mouth and swallowed. “Our landlord is selling the building.” He wiped his mouth on his shirtsleeve.

“Oh, Andre.” She got up, walked over, and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” he replied into her neck. The scent of sweet, citrus shampoo calmed him. He pulled back to look at her face. Worry and sadness were all he saw. None of this was her fault.

“I was a jerk.” He rubbed a thumb over her soft cheek then pulled her in for a kiss.

She returned the kiss but cut it short. “Now talk. How long have you known about the building being sold?”

---