Hadleigh: Dude, are you okay? What the fuck!
Hadleigh: Don’t listen to them, Harper.
I furrow my brows as I re-read her message. What is she talking about?
Then I remember I never checked how my video was doing so I go to my profile and see it’s going semi-viral. I smile, giddy about the exposure.
But then I click on the comments and see dozens of people have tagged Shayla’s shop.
I ordered three weeks ago, and I’m still waiting for my order!
Shop at Goat Soap Suds! They ship within 48 hours!
It shouldn’t take this long to ship! I want a refund! Shayla never takes this long.
Instead of making videos, maybe you should be packaging the orders you already have.
I think this business is a scam. I’m still waiting for an item I bought a month ago.
I swallow down the bile that threatens to surface. I’m used to a few negative comments, but these go on forever like Shayla sent her people to swarm my videos. So not only is she stealing my ideas but she’s also now trying to turn my customers against me.
I work my ass off to make products and ship within my four-to-six-week timeframe, but sometimes doing everything on my own gets overwhelming. When Hadleigh’s able to help, we get twice as much done, but she usually only has a few free hours on her days off. Meanwhile, Shayla has a whole ass team of people to work the back end of her business. She barely lifts a finger and is as fake as her acrylic nails, but of course I can’t say that. She knows most small businesses can’t ship that fast and brags about it nonstop to entice people to shop with her instead. I wouldn’t care if she was being ethical, but she’s not.
My face heats as anger flows through my blood. The sucky thing is there’s nothing I can do about it. While I could go through and delete these comments, there are hundreds of them, and I don’t have time to. Even though there are good ones too, most people search for the bad ones.
I could delete the video, but then she wins.
And I’m not willing to give her the satisfaction.
Instead, I turn off comments so no more rude ones can be posted, but it doesn’t make me any less angry about the whole thing.
Ethan drops by after work and brings me a plate of lasagna from the B&B. It brightens my mood a little, but I’m still bitter. Of course, he notices and tries to help by making me laugh, but it doesn’t work. Considering he’s tired and I’m not the greatest company at the moment, I tell him he should go home and get some rest.
I prefer to sulk in private anyway.
Once he’s gone, I get into the tub and relax with a glass of red wine. I soak in the hot water, hoping to relieve the tension from my shoulders. I shouldn’t let things like this get to me, especially her, but it feels like high school drama all over again. I left that place eight years ago, but apparently, Shayla hasn’t. There’s room for everyone at the top, even if she doesn’t believe that. People love goat soaps and lotions. There are plenty of customers to buy from all of our shops, yet she thrives on turning it into a capitalist competition. She also passively tears down small businesses as if we’re peasants compared to her. If it weren’t for the resources and knowledge the association provides each quarter, I wouldn’t bother to keep paying dues. However, it’s helped me network with wholesalers and collaborate with other companies, which has been priceless for helping me grow.
As the stress melts away, I think about my winter launch. To avoid anyone copying me, I don’t plan to announce it until the day before I post the items on my website. I also want to add goat milk bath bombs to the boutique and hope to debut them in my holiday collection. I’d definitely need another person to help me get my inventory started, but bath bombs are fairly easy to make and profitable.
Feeling optimistic and excited about the future, I get out of the tub and dry off. I pour another glass of wine, getting more of a buzz than I typically allow myself, but it’s been one hell of a day. After I throw on a robe and brush my hair, I browse Pinterest and drink.
Once I’ve pinned about fifty scent ideas and nailed down what options I want to offer, I finish off the bottle. Tomorrow morning’s gonna be rough, but that’ll be a future me problem.
Against my better judgment, I go on Facebook, which I hardly ever do except to post on my business page. After checking my notifications, I scroll my newsfeed until I come across a post in the small business association member group. Since I’m speaking on the next panel, I read the recent announcement from Charlene.