I nod. “Yep, as soon as we have everything set up, I’ll post on Instagram and Facebook. I’ll add a disclaimer that the items will need to be washed before they wear them, but I believe most of the stuff in the front is still in good condition. But I need you guys to wear these respirators when you go inside.”
Dana stands quietly to the side, not saying much of anything.
We put on our masks and get to work. Thankfully, the weather is absolutely perfect with no chance of rain.
After a few hours, the restoration company arrives with a huge dumpster and unloads it in the parking lot behind the shop.
“Wow,” one of the women says, looking in the back room. “There’s nothing left but ash. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. It’s been hard to deal with, but now that you’re here, maybe we’ll be able to get it lookin’ new again.”
“We’ll do our best.” She smiles.
I watch as they start shoveling rubble into garbage bags before tossing them out. It’s progress, at least, but it makes me sad as hell. I’ve put so much time, sweat, and money into my shop, and now it feels like I’m starting over again.
I was stupid to think everything would go back to normal after Natasha because whoever did this may be an even bigger monster than her. I’ve been wondering if Krystal is somehow behind them in an attempt to get back at Archer, but I don’t know how she’d manage to get in and out without being seen on my cameras.
When lunchtime rolls around, I order pizza for the girls and me. We take a quick break and eat.
“Do you know how long it’s going to take them to remodel?” Heidi asks.
“Not sure. They said it could be as quick as a month or as long as six.”
“Damn,” Lexie adds. “That’s way too long.”
“I know,” I say, sighing. “But I’ve requested to choose my own contractor, and my agent said they’d need quotes. So, I’m gonna beg Noah to submit a bid for the job even though he’s booked solid.”
“That’d be amazing,” Lexie says.
“And he’d bust ass for you,” Heidi adds.
Dana stays quiet, and we all notice.
“What’s up with you?” Lexie finally asks her when the pizza box is empty.
“Sorry, nothing. Just got a lot on my mind at the moment.” She forces a smile. “You know how it can be.”
“Oh yeah, I get that,” I reply, but the conversation ends there. If she wanted us to know what she was going through, she’d tell us.
Another hour passes, and the parking lot is full of clothing racks. Though they smell like smoke, the discount I’m offering makes up for how many times they’ll have to wash the fabric.
“Are y’all ready for the crowd?” I posted the announcement on Instagram and Facebook, then sent out a quick newsletter too.
“Yep, bring it on!” Lexie cheers.
Within five minutes, my loyal customers show up and begin grabbing things.
I have my cash register app on my phone, so we set up a small table at the front of the building so they can use their credit cards.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have any bags,” I tell Mrs. Ferguson, who has a huge pile of clothes in her arms.
“Don’t worry, hon. I’m gonna put these in the wash as soon as I get home and start wearing them tomorrow. Just don’t tell my husband. The less he knows, the better,” she says with a wink, and I chuckle.
“Okay, your total is five hundred and seventy-three dollars. You saved fifty percent!”
“Wow, amazing! So I guess if he does notice, I’ll tell him it was a deal I couldn’t refuse.” She smirks, handing over her credit card.
“Thank you, I really appreciate your support,” I say, and she hugs me before leaving. There’s a line of people who have as much as she did. By the time the sun sets, nearly everything is gone. I’m virtually in tears because of how many people showed up.