Page 68 of Raise The Bar
“I’m doing this wrong, aren’t I?” he asks when it’s clear that his arrangements don’t look like mine.
“It’s not that you’re doing it wrong, Clark,” I tell him, gently placing my hands on his tanned forearm and moving him out of the way. “It’s that you’re not doing it right.” His warm laugh fills the small space as he leans down to kiss my neck.
“Why don’t I leave the organizing to the woman who knows what she’s doing while I go get us both some caffeine?”
“Thank yoooouuuuu.” I’ve been up since four o’clock and I haven’t had any coffee yet. I’ve been running on nerves alone. He starts to leave, but doubles back giving me a quick kiss on the lips.
“Just cause I can,” he grins as he walks out of the booth backwards, not taking his eyes off me before he disappears around the corner.
Warmth flutters through me like thousands of tiny wings beating in time with my heart. I will love this man for the rest of my days and I don’t think the butterflies will ever go away.
Returning my attention to the task at hand, I make piles and small towers of the various bars of soap, arranging them carefully until I’m happy with the presentation. I stand back and admire my work, unable to deny the bubble of pride I feel. The space is small, but inviting. I’ve ensured that the stands are spaced far enough apart that people can move freely. The products are organized based on the type of skin they’re best suited for, making it easier for shoppers. It’s exactly the type of booth that would catch my attention as a customer.
And I made it happen.
“This looks amazing,” Callum says as he returns. He’s juggling two cups of coffee on a tray in one hand, a pastry box in the other, and a long shipping tube under one arm.
“Whatcha got there?” I ask as I take the steaming hot coffees from him and set them down on the nearest table. He pauses for the briefest moment, as if unsure of himself.
“You don’t have to use it.” He looks almost bashful as he removes the top from the tube and slides out a long white cylinder. Using both hands, he carefully unrolls it until I’m looking at an eight foot vinyl banner.Raise The Baris printed in large letters, withSoaps by Maggiein smaller print below. There is my logo that I’ve been playing around with in one corner, and a cute drawing of a sudsy bar of soap in the other. “I figured that it would be a good idea to have a sign with your info on it,” he explains hurriedly. “But I didn’t want to add anything else to your plate, so I just had it made.” He points to a QR Code on the banner. “This will take customers right to your website when they scan it with their phones.” He looks at me expectantly. “If you don’t like it, I can–”
I cut him off, launching myself into his arms. I feel the tension leaving his body as he relaxes against me, hugging me back. “I love it,” I say, my face buried in his chest. I inhale deeply, his clean, Callum scent going straight to my head and weakening my knees. “It’s perfect.”
“Then it matches the woman I made it for.” I tilt my head back to beam up at him. I feel like those beautiful eyes see all of me, the good and the broken. He brushes a loose curl from my forehead and in this moment, I feel more than loved. I feel cherished.
We get the fancy new sign up just in time for the market to open. People are lined up halfway around the block, which does nothing to calm my nerves.
Here we go.
The next few hours are a steady stream of shoppers. Betty and Josh arrive early, accompanied by Rilla and her mom, Nancy, who’ve driven from Maine. Nancy, an older, softer version of Rilla, buys a staggering assortment of products for herself and as gifts for others.
“I can’t decide, so I’m taking everything!” she says, like she couldn’t be more pleased about the predicament.
June and Colin come by, fresh from their honeymoon, looking sun-soaked and more in love than ever. Dad and Valerie arrive around eleven and I’m so busy with customers all I can do is give them an excited wave. I thought my heart was full before, but the look of wonder on my dad’s face as he takes in what I’ve worked so hard on makes it overflow.
Several of my loyal clients come by and many have brought friends. Winnie even comes by, introducing me to her husband, Dale. But it’s not just familiar faces; I get lots of interest over the day from a number of strangers. Some are looking for help with existing skin issues, some want to make the switch to more natural products, and others just want to support a local small business. As I connect with new faces and help them choose what I feel will work best for them, I’m so glad I took a chance and put myself out there.
Callum is completely in his element, chatting with customers and making friends. He charms everyone who crosses his path with an air of ease that is all his own. We are too busy to talk most of the time, but I get smiles and occasional wink from across the stand.
At the end of the day, I’ve sold more than three quarters of what I showed up with and I’m as pleased as I am exhausted.
“Dinner is on me,” I tell Callum as we’ve packed up the last of the booth. “As long as it comes in a cardboard box and we can eat it on your couch.”
“Are you sure? I can take you somewhere nice if you want to celebrate your debut. You know, a place with snooty wine suggestions we can ignore?” He grins wickedly when I snort with laughter at the memory of our first non-date.
“Do you remember how we celebrated my last business triumph?” I ask coyly as I place a box in the backseat of his car. When I straighten up, he’s behind me, his body flush against mine. He slowly turns me around and then leans in, pressing my back against the car.
“Vividly,” his voice is low and I feel it right down to my toes. “Should we do that again? Because that’s a tradition I could definitely get behind.”
Epilogue
Maggie
“Good evening, Ms…I mean, Maggie.”
“It’s nice to see you, Terrance,” I tell Callum’s doorman as he stands to greet me. I’ve been working on getting him to call me by my first name and not Ms. Morales for months now. He’s slowly starting to get the hang of it. “How is your granddaughter?”
His face lights up and he’s around his desk and beside me in seconds, phone in hand and ready to show me new pictures. His oldest daughter just had a daughter of her own, and he shows me at least a dozen new pictures every time I enter the building. Each photo is accompanied with whatever new feats the newborn has mastered.
