To Kalie and Amy. You both inspire me every day to be the best version of myself.
LOVE CANNOT BE FOUND WHERE IT DOES NOT EXIST,
NOR CAN IT BE HIDDEN WHERE IT TRULY DOES.
~William Shakespeare~
1
September
Salad paid the bills. At least, it was supposed to. If it wasn’t going to, Hailey Sharp needed copious amounts of chocolate. In all fairness to her very quiet, newly opened salad shop, By the Cup, she would use any excuse to feed her chocolate addiction.
Which was why she hadn’t gone the bakery or chocolate shop route—she’d eat herself out of profits.
Looking around, desperate for something to do—or eat—that would take her mind off the lack of customers, she debated going next door to Baked, the coffee-shop-slash-bakery that served the most delicious brownie lava cakes.
Her Kindle was in her purse, just a few steps away, but if she went back to the book she’d been reading, she wouldn’t come up for air. She was right at that moment when everything was about to get so good, she wouldn’t be able to tear herself away.
Her stomach growled, distracting her from the temptation of her latest rom-com read. Whip up a salad. Her end-of-summer special was a dessert salad, which she topped with dark chocolate shavings. She wasn’t in the mood though. Had she made a mistake opening this store?
Why don’t I have customers? This is California for God’s sake. People love their greens and mine come in handy little to-go cups, perfect for the busy Californian.
A few people walked past the shop window. They didn’t even glance in. Maybe she should change the special. With that in mind, she grabbed a chalk marker and a cloth, heading toward the door of her supposed-to-be-thriving store. It’s been two weeks. Give it some time.
The heat hit her like a giant blanket when she stepped out onto the sidewalk. She’d lived in California for years now, though she’d only moved to San Verde recently, but some days the steady sunshine still surprised her. Deciding to put her San Verde Sunshine Cup—a mixture of lettuces, assorted yummy seeds, yellow tomatoes, and avocado with a homemade dressing—on sale, she added it to the board.
Then, because she was only human, she tucked the marker and cloth into the back pocket of her jeans and went into Baked.
Similar to her own store in layout, size, and the gorgeous picture window with seating, it set itself apart with the number of customers. Plus, the smell. Salad doesn’t smell. Hmm. Something to think about. Nothing lures people to buy like the scent of something freshly made or appetizing. Like coffee.
She joined the line, thinking maybe that was the draw. Maybe she should add some specialty iced teas or something.
Almost every table was full. She scanned the room, once again wondering if she’d gone too far out of the box with her take-out, dine-in salad shop.
The line moved forward as people chatted and laughed over the sound of coffee machines and music. I’ll bring my Bluetooth speaker. At least then it won’t be so quiet.
Glancing out the window, she tapped her debit card against her thigh, wishing she could live in one of the apartments so conveniently located above this row of shops. Instead, she’d decided to save money by renting something smaller and farther away. The focus was the shop, and since she’d sunk all the proceeds from the sale of her apartment into this venture, that was the way it needed to be.
Forcing herself to inhale deeply and think about the scent of chocolate and the quiet hum of people, she felt her heart rate settle. The line moved forward again. Everything will work out. Hailey wanted to believe that one day soon, her own shop would be bustling with happy customers.
Don’t even need a bustle. I’ll take a steady trickle. Teens took up the center of the dining area, sitting at a long, scuffed wooden table. Most of them were on their phones despite laughing at the conversations around them. Two of the guys were flicking wadded-up paper balls back and forth. The bell jingled over the door, signaling more customers. Two guys who either really liked spandex or had just been cycling joined the line. Maybe not the teens, but those guys should be next door getting a salad. Says you as you stand in line.
Three women in yoga pants, workout tops, and high ponytails sat at the back of the store talking over each other, loudly, about dating. They looked like salad people.
“Next,” the male barista called. He didn’t look familiar and Hailey definitely had regular-customer status. Tara, the shop owner, must have just hired him.
Hailey pulled her loyalty card out of the pocket of her cell phone case. Chocolate would never have to doubt her commitment. “Hi. How are you today?”