Piper
FYI according to Urban Dictionary, what you’re saying is
dork
(n) a whale penis
The blue whale has the biggest dork on earth
By anonymous, February 14, 2003
And burst out laughing.
Hailey
Point proven.
* * *
The following week, she saw just enough customers to make her feel like she wasn’t in a sinking ship but not enough to celebrate. She had a degree in business and marketing but there were few industries that changed as quickly. She’d taken two years of culinary school, working for food services trucks on movie sets while she’d saved for her own truck. She was good at what she did. She knew how to run a business, but the thing about knowing and doing was they were worlds apart. Especially in the age of social media.
For instance, she knew Facebook advertising was a good way to improve her visibility. In order to do something about that, however, she needed a bigger marketing budget. She fiddled around with the cheapest options, set them up, and then went to explore her website. It was lacking. From a glance, it was bright and appealing, but there was no substance.
There were ways to make it more interactive. She’d scoured other restaurant sites and loved the ease and flexibility of them. Order in, take out, preorder meals, preorder drinks for pickups. Those things were where she wanted to go but she had to be content with waiting until the money started rolling in. Or learn how to do it herself. There was always so much to learn, she felt like she’d not only slipped below the curve but given up and watched it drive away.
While she read through an online article about successful small businesses, her shop phone rang.
“By the Cup.”
“Hi. Is there any chance you do deliveries?”
Hailey glanced around her empty shop. Think fast, Hails. “Absolutely. There’s a small delivery fee depending on the distance.”
“Oh, that’s fine. We’ve got an afternoon meeting and I was wondering if I could order twenty salads.”
She wasn’t often thankful for an empty shop but she was now as she did a little sideways shuffle behind the counter. She didn’t even care that a couple of guys walked by with huge grins on their faces that said, yeah, we saw you.
“Sure, let me grab my pen and I’ll write down your orders.” She tried to keep her voice calm. Act like you’ve done it before.
As Hailey wrote down twenty salad orders, she fell into an easy groove of answering the questions the woman asked—yes they had organic lettuce, all dressings were homemade, there were two sizes.
“I’ll need about an hour,” Hailey said when she’d written them all down. That was if no one showed up.
“That’s perfect.” She gave the address and said to come through the back entrance of the building.
“See you soon,” Hailey said.
As soon as she hung up, nerves rippled through her system. Now more than ever, she wished she had some sort of ordering capabilities on her website or one of those apps that allowed customers to order ahead. It would allow her to schedule things so she wouldn’t have to worry about whether customers were going to come walking through the door while she was swamped, or, worse, show up while she ran across town.
“Work now, worry later,” she told herself, turning up the music a touch. It definitely added a nice vibe to the place. Twenty salads, delivery. It hadn’t occurred to her before the phone call. Living in a Skip the Dishes era—where a third party would bring your meal to your door—meant even if a company didn’t offer delivery, it wouldn’t impact their sales. But as a new company, she needed loyal customers before that could work for By the Cup.
Despite worrying about closing the shop, deliveries, and websites, she hummed along to the music playing from 96.2 Sun. The smell of fresh vegetables and delicious dressings made her smile. She loved having her own shop. The food truck idea no longer felt like her and when she’d come to visit Piper, they’d visited the bakery and seen the FOR LEASE sign. The location was great and it meant she’d be close to a cousin she loved like a sister.
The two customers—a man and a woman—who came through the door about twenty minutes into her huge prep seemed content to sit in the corner of her shop eating their salads.
When they were still there when she finished making and boxing up the order, Hailey wondered how best to approach them about the fact that she had to go.
The man stood, taking the tray and leaning over to kiss the woman before he cleared it and set it on the back counter. The woman checked something on her phone then joined him, turning to smile at Hailey.
“Those were delicious. We’ll be back.”
“Thank you so much. Have a wonderful day!”
Hailey stood frozen a minute as they left. It suddenly hit her that one of the pieces of herself she’d lost in her relationship was optimism. She’d always been a glass-half-full girl, but for too long, she’d been content with having a glass at all. Which was good but it didn’t offer much hope. She felt her smile from her lips to her toes. No more accepting the bare minimum. She wanted the stars? She’d need to learn to reach higher.
For the first time since she’d opened her shop, she had a good feeling about where she was going.
Today is the beginning of something amazing. She not only knew it, she believed it.
3
Wesley Jansen’s stomach growled. He placed a hand over it as he looked over the financials for Squishy Cat Industries, the corporation he owned with his brothers.
“Food will be here soon,” Everly, his brother Chris’s girlfriend, said with a quiet voice and a knowing smirk.
Chris, his youngest brother, joined them in the boardroom. He had a Cheshire Cat grin on his face and a small, flat box in his hand. They’d been meeting weekly at 96.2 Sun radio station—just one of the businesses under their SCI label—since Wes had joined them on the West Coast. Chris and Noah both had a head start on establishing themselves in their communities, particularly Harlow Beach, where Noah lived. The brothers volunteered at one of the local recreation centers but also attended town halls to meet residents of the neighborhood.
Effecting positive change wasn’t just about money. It was about becoming part of the community and learning about real needs. Things that mattered most to the people who had to live there. Wes needed to catch up in that regard but he was trying to get them sorted in other areas first, such as finding an office space of their own.
Not that anyone minded meeting at the station. Everly worked there as a producer with her best friend, the DJ, and it was his suggestion. Noah’s girlfriend, Grace, was joining them for lunch today.
Jane, the office administrator, popped her head into the room. “I ordered enough for everyone but I’ll bring your salads in here when they arrive?”
Chris nodded, thanked her, then turned back to whispering something in Everly’s ear. It was good to see him so happy. Wes would never let his happiness rely on another person, but he was grateful his brothers had found love.
“You ordered salad?” Noah looked up from the notepad he and Grace were studying. “You that cheap?”
Grace smacked his arm. “I could use a salad. I’m pretty sure my blood is part brownie now. Tara has got to stop trying new recipes out on us.”
“Says you. You can never have enough brownies,” Everly said. She pinned her gaze on Noah. “These salads are awesome. You need to try them before you complain.”
“Oh, is this the place you and Stace tried last week?” Grace asked.
Everly nodded. “Delicious.”
“To a girl who eats like a mouse,” Noah grunted.
Everly stuck her tongue out at Noah. “Chris had one too and he loved it.”
“No. He loves you and therefore told you he loved it then snuck out for a steak,” Noah said.
Chris laughed, shook his head when Everly looked at him. “Not true. He’s lying. A man can love his girlfriend and salad. Noah’s just not that evolved.”
All of them laughed. God, it was good to be all together again. When his brothers decided to build their own lives away from their tyrannical father, Wes had hesitated.
He liked his life in New York. He enjoyed routine, knowing when all his favorite restaurants were quiet, which shops catered to locals, and he loved walking through the city. Like his brothers, what he didn’t like was his father’s insistence that what he did for the family business was never enough.
“Have you tried the salad place yet, Wes?” Everly asked. “I know you like your routine of coffee dates at Tara’s but the shop is right next door.”