Page 2 of Sweet Dreams
Junior year I met a fellow classmate named Rylan. He was charming, he was good looking, and he seemed totally into me. Day dreams of tall, dark, and handsome took over my days and made class fly by. He'd meet up with me in-between classes, take me to lunch at the school cafeteria, and help me study at my dorm. He was so attentive, I found myself slowly pulling away from Bailey and my other friends to spend more of my days and nights with him. He made my grieving, reluctant heart want to feelagain.
Unfortunately, once I trusted him, he seemed to change overnight. Gone was the sweet, in its place an underhanded monster dressed like my boyfriend. His digs were subtle enough not to ring any warning bells, but enough to damage my self-esteem. When I gathered the courage to call him on his bullshit, he would laugh it off, saying he was joking or I was simply making too much out ofit.
All the sass and confidence I emulated under Bailey's tutelage the last few years was quietly forgotten as I compromised myself for him. I’d felt adrift since my parents died. Add in my quiet nature, along with my limited dating experience, and that all combined to leave me vulnerable. And he totally capitalized on that for a few long, confusingmonths.
Bailey finally intervened and made me see the light. I broke up with Rylan, and he ended up dropping out of school when months went by and I refused to speak to him. With him gone, I could focus back on school and building the life I wanted for myself. No more assholes, no more allowing life to happen to me. I was ready to kick some ass and build my dreamlife.
The anger over his emotional abuse, and the grief over my parents, shifted forms over time, but didn't lessen in intensity. All that emotion was funneled into school, planning for my business, and studiously avoiding men at allcosts.
When we finally graduated from college, Bailey was looking for a job as a personal shopper at a high-end retailer. As a best friend would, I knew I had to help her attain her dream. So, I cashed out the last of my parents’ life insurance money and hatched a brilliant scheme. Don't freak out on me, I used the life insurance money wisely to pay for my college education. I was always responsible with my finances, but I was due a little play time and as a double bonus, I could helpBailey.
We researched the hiring manager at Nordstrom at Fashion Island, cased the place to know when she worked, and then sprang into action. On a Tuesday afternoon, Bailey strutted through the second level of Nordie's looking fabulous in her typical style. She was classically beautiful with her dark smooth skin, tall with legs that went on forever, big, curly hair, and bright smile. She added her own spin on cool with her accessories, creating a look that exuded confidence and an energy that made you want to be aroundher.
As all eyes tracked her movement through the racks, she grabbed a top, a pair of pants, and a scarf, assembling them into a makeshift outfit right on the rack. I casually walked by, stopped, backtracked, and began theshow.
"Oh my God! That looks so beautiful! Do you think that would work on my body type?" I asked with obviousexcitement.
Bailey turned to me, flashed a smile, and said, "For sure it would work on you! Let's change the scarf out for a cooler color, but other than that, this outfit looks like it was made for you. Want to try iton?"
“Heck, yeah I do! I'm so glad I ran right into you. Nordstrom is so good with having their personal shoppers out on the floor helping us fashion impaired people," I went ongushing.
"Oh no, honey, I don't work here. I just love fashion and dressing women so they feel confident in their clothes," Bailey said with convincing passion. And it was true. That's why she spent four years getting her degree infashion.
We took the party to the fitting rooms and two hours later I walked out with five complete outfits, shoes, accessories, and undergarments included. This spending spree did not go unnoticed by the Nordstrom employees. After I sashayed out with my haul, Bailey was approached by our target, the hiring boss, and offered a job on the spot. I wasn't surprised, and I certainly didn't feel bad about our scheme. Those outfits kicked ass and I couldn't wait to wear them as I realized my own dream: owning a business in Surf City,USA.
For as long as I could remember, I've loved hot chocolate. Not like normal little kids like it. It wasn't just the whipped cream, or the chocolaty taste, or the fact that it was a warm, cozy drink. I was flat out obsessed with it. I'd made thousands of cups of hot chocolate, slowly perfecting my recipes. Yes, recipes plural, upwards of fifty. My friends and family got tired of always having to taste my recipes but my mom encouraged me to keep doing it. No Starbucks coffee runs for me as a college student. I wanted quality hot chocolate that only I could make athome.
My chocolate obsession took a brief hiatus when I was dating Rylan since he thought I was getting a little too curvy because of all the chocolate. I mean really, I should have seen the red flag for what it was; any man who tries to separate a woman from her chocolate is flat outinsane.
I planned to open a shop when I was out of college and my mom would help me run it. She'd do the website and the cash register, I'd handle the menu offerings and choose the shop decor. In a grand departure from the plan, she died before that could happen. But my chocolate dreamsdidn't.
Since I used the last of my savings to pay off my college education and kick start Bailey's personal shopper dreams, I worked part-time at a local bakery to save up the cash needed to start my shop. It took me almost six months, but I was finally ready. There was a new retail shopping center, Pacific City, being built right on Pacific Coast Highway, or PCH as the locals called it. High end shops were committing to retail space in the new center and I wanted in. This would betheplace to shop, eat, and once the condos were built behind it, hang out with a warm cup of gourmet hot chocolate. If determination and heart were enough to keep a company afloat, there was no doubt mine wouldthrive.
My only hurdle was a middle-aged man on the committee that tried to block me from renting space. He felt that as a young woman untested in the business world, I was not a good fit for Pacific City and should settle for elsewhere. He was quite vocal about his dislike for me and my business idea. I'm not sure what I ever did to piss him off, but damn, that guy had it in for me. I had to work that much harder by going around him and pleading my case to the head honcho of the management company, before I was finally granted a rentalspace.
The work was worth it as the space was perfect. All white decor with pops of black and dusty pink. My shop name, 'Chocolate Dreams' was proudly posted on the outside awning, on the large front window, and on the old-fashioned chalk menu board behind the long white counter. A glass case sat next to the counter, filled with bakery items to complement the hot chocolate varieties. Lastly, a long window on the back wall gave a picture-perfect view of the ocean. Wherever my eye looked, it found delight. Which was by design. I wanted my customers’ senses bombarded, in a good way, when they entered myshop.
We officially opened over the holidays with my peppermint hot chocolate being a best seller. Nothing like a hint of peppermint chocolate, thick homemade whipped cream topped with mint shavings to make your mouth happy when it was cold and rainy outside. Of course, salted caramel hot chocolate, mocha chip hot chocolate, and marshmallow dream hot chocolate were popular choices too. Mouth orgasms were guaranteed, and I was seriously considering making that my official slogan. Sorrymom.
Sales continued to be good through the first of the year. Bailey was loving her job outfitting the high-end population of Newport Beach. The ex-boyfriend and his abuse were history. I lived the beach life in sunny California. Life was comfortable. A little lonely, butsteady.
What I still hadn't learned was that you couldn't control what life threw at you. When you least expected it, you can get the best, and sometimes, the worst things in life thrown atyou.
2
Present Day
It was Monday afternoon in early spring and both Bailey and I had the day off. We decided there wasn't anything better than a run on the beach, especially since there were a lot more lifeguards on duty now that spring break was in full swing. I may be surrounded by chocolate all day long, but a girl still needs her eye candy, know what I mean? Run to burn calories so I can drink more chocolate and eyeball hot lifeguards while doing it. Double bonus! This was quickly becoming a favorite weekly routine forus.
"Okay girl, we gotta slow down," Bailey said, out of breath. We slowed to a fast walk but kept moving toward thepier.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I'd much rather be at the gym throwing around some weights. This running shit is hard!" I said. I had curves built from weight training and a few too many hot chocolates. I swear I wasn't built for running, but I knew it was good for me. I may not have an ex-boyfriend grabbing my belly roll anymore but that little voice in my head was still there. I was getting better at punching it in the face and getting it to pipe down, but it still popped up more often than I'dlike.
"Let's pick it up to the pier and then walk back?" Bailey asked after we'd caught ourbreaths.
"Let's do it," I responded. We picked it back up to a run and made our way to the pier. After we touched the concrete pillar and turned around, we had a mile to get back to Beach Blvd & PCH where we tied up our bikes. Doesn't sound like a very long distance until you're running it in the soft sand, wind blowing, and darting around small children building sandcastles.
We'd completed a couple more spurts of jogging when we slowed down for our final cool down walk at lifeguard tower seventeen. I had a decent sweat going on and the burn in my legs was real. It was unusually warm that afternoon, so I veered into the surf to get my feet wet and cool off quicker. I was only a few steps in when I felt a stabbing sensation in my rightfoot.
