Page 39 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
Cheryl had worked for my aunt for a year before she passed. We’d always been friendly, but it wasn’t until I took over the store that our friendship formed for real. First through shared grief then through the quiet moments of choosing each other.She had been a godsend when I was trying to wrap up my life in Seattle to move to Ruby River permanently.
“What time do you need to be there?” Cheryl asked.
I glanced at my phone. “Eleven. Which means I have time to do some admin work now and inventory later. I also want to go through the classes we’re offering to see what I need to adjust.”
She nodded. “Okay. Don’t forget I have to leave by four-thirty to get to my marketing class tonight.”
I opened the door to the small office behind the counter, leaving it open. “And how’s that going?”
Cheryl pulled a chair up to the desk I was sitting behind. “Okay. I hate that it’s taking me so long to finish this degree. Sometimes I wonder if I’m making a mistake.”
That was unusual. Cheryl didn’t second-guess herself. Ever.
I set my hands on the desk and gave her my full attention. “What do you mean?”
“Business is such a general degree.”
“True,” I said carefully, waiting for her to continue.
“It’s just … I need to get an internship next semester. And I don’t want to do it in a stuffy office. And I need to figure it out fast because the summer term begins in a few weeks.” She glanced at me. “What would you think about me doing it here?”
Relief and panic hit me at the same time.
“I mean—yes,” I said. “Obviously I want you here, but could I still pay you your hourly wage?” A slight worry crossed my mind. If her hours went above twenty a week, I wasn’t sure how I’d make that work.
“You wouldn’t have to pay me more than you already do,” she said immediately.
Cheryl was perceptive. She knew I was barely keeping my head above water.
“Okay,” I breathed. “That would help. You know I’d pay you more if I could.”
“I do.” She leaned back, then hesitated—an expression so unlike her that my stomach tightened.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Your brother?” I asked. Cheryl had become guardian to her teenage brother after their mom passed, and I’d watched her carry responsibility like it was woven into the fabric of her being.
“Oh, God, no.” She shook her head. “He’s fine. We’re both fine.”
Relief flooded my chest. “Oh, good. You scared me.”
She took a breath, then said, “What would you think of taking on a business partner?”
My stomach flipped. Having a business partner to share the expenses and daily load would be a tremendous gift. Hope surged—bright, reckless. Then fear slammed into it. Because if Cheryl tied herself to Sacred Serenity and I failed … I’d be dragging her down with me.
“I …” My voice caught. “You know I’d love that, but I’m not even paying myself at this point.”
Cheryl leaned forward and rested her elbows on the desk. “I know that. But what if we push social media like bigger than ever? Start online orders. I’ve been stalking businesses like ours—what content they use, what they sell, how they package their products. I know you were planning to buy stuff today, but what if we decide together? Let’s get strategic with what moves the bottom line. Then we plan a marketing strategy this week, and implement it next week?”
I blinked at her. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
She nodded. “I have. I love this place as much as you do. I believe in everything your aunt started. I know with what you’ve added and some intentional tweaks, we can make this work.”
A warmth spread through my chest. Aunt Jem would’ve loved hearing this.
“I’d love to give that a shot,” I said, meaning it. “But …” I exhaled a laugh without humor. “I’d hate for you to put money in and then neither of us are getting paid.”
“We’ll do projections. A solid business plan. And it’s not for you to worry about whether I have a salary right now.”
“But your brother?—”
