“Alright, let’s do it,” I sighed. “Cherry Falls...Here we come.”
1
Delilah
I arranged the rack of clothes before me and put a few last-minute touches around the shop before going over to the door to flip the “Open” sign around.
My little vintage boutique meant everything to me, and I liked to get there early each morning to take it all in. I’d put on some music and dance around, always carefully rearranging the merchandise and putting out new stuff. I wanted it to be a fresh experience for my regulars, even if they came in several times a week.
My mornings alone in the shop, twirling through the clothes and knick-knacks, were my favorite part of the day. Second only to helping a customer find the perfect outfit or gift for all their special occasions in life.
My least favorite part of the day was looking out the door after flipping the sign over to “Open”. Because that was when I came face to face with the nightmare that was taking over the landscape of my hometown. Settled just beyond the strip of other small shops like my own that lined the street was a majestic view of our beloved blue mountains that towered across the sky. But that view was now being increasingly obstructed by a row of hideous tall buildings that were popping up left and right all over Cherry Falls.
When I was growing up, our small southern town was unheard of. I visited the Big Apple when I was nineteen and each time someone asked where I was from, they would respond: “Cherry Falls. Huh. Nope, never heard of it.” There was no reason to believe it would ever be any different.
But all it took was one huge movie star to build their new mansion on the edge of town, followed by a few of their other A-lister rich friends, and next thing you knew, hordes of newcomers were flooding into our city.
I was hopeful that the population boom would be good for my business. And maybe it would have been, had I not already sunk so much money into merchandise that was specifically catered to the native locals like me. I knew that customer base well. The newbies flying in from all corners of the US and Europe? Not so much.
But I loved my little shop all the same, even if it was becoming less profitable lately. I was never in it for the money anyway. I loved unique second-hand fashion and collecting odds and ends. Always had, even as a child. More than anything, I loved to share my finds with my customers. Opening my store was a lifelong dream that I started saving for in highschool. And with a little help from friends and family, I was able to make that dream a reality before I was twenty-five.
It was a shame to see sales drop and an even bigger shame to see the changes sweeping through Cherry Falls. I loved our city’s rich history and charm, and it was sickening to see it taken over by newcomers who could never appreciate it the way I did. They were just chasing after the next big trends and whatever the rich and famous decided was cool.
Two of those newcomers were about to be my first customers of the day. I watched the black sports car park on the street before two men in suits climbed out and headed toward my door. Everything about them oozed money, from their designer clothes and sunglasses, which they didn’t bother taking off at first when they came inside, right down to their shiny leather shoes. They both walked with an arrogant sort of swagger that all the rich men moving into town walked around with. Though, to give these guys credit, they did take it to a whole new level. They were tall, rich, and hot...and they knew it.
“Morning, gentlemen,” I chimed in my politest voice, even if it was fake as could be. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”
They stood near the door and looked around a little, seeming unimpressed – which didn’t surprise me. It wasn’t like I had a wall of Armani suits or Gucci suit jackets. Though I did have a few charming little vintage Versace button-ups that I thought might interest them. I might have suggested it had the guy with dark hair not stepped forward, pulling a business card out of his pocket.
He flashed the card in front of me and smiled. “Nick Ransom.”
I shrugged cluelessly. “Okay. I’m Delilah.”
His blonde friend perked up from a corner of the store. “Ha! Delilah? Like the name out front?” he asked, pointing toward the door.
“Uh, yeah...Delilah’s. This is my store, and I am Delilah.”
“Huh, I thought shops being named after their owners was something that just happened in movies,” he replied before going back to looking around at the tables of souvenirs.
“You’ll have to forgive me and my friend, Ben, here,” Nick said, showing off his perfect teeth. His eyes were still annoyingly hidden by his Tom Ford sunglasses. “We’re not from around here.”
“You could have fooled me,” I shot back sarcastically, still baffled as to why he gave me his card right off the bat.
“And definitely not used to small towns like this one.”
“I take it you’re one of the people coming in to make our town not so small anymore.” I crossed my arms, doing my best not to roll my eyes at him.
“Well, of course there’s a certain level of small-town charm that needs to be preserved.”
“What are grits?” Ben asked suddenly, pointing to one of the painted signs on the wall that said “Kiss My Grits”.
Nick turned his head to read it and seemed less than amused. “Charming, indeed.” He raised his brows – his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“You can find out for yourself at the diner across the street. They serve the best grits in town. Now, what exactly can I help you with...Nick…” I flashed my eyes down to the card he handed me. “Ransom...Of Ransom Realty. If you’re in the market for my shop, you’re out of luck. I’m on a lease and don’t intend going anywhere any time soon.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” he answered, finally removing his shades. Unfortunately, the face behind them was disarmingly handsome, and I could only hope it wasn’t too obvious that I was having to work hard to catch my breath as his dark eyes met mine. “I was actually just reviewing that lease before I came over.”
“I’m sorry?”
“As it happens, the owner of this building sold it to me earlier in the week.”
“Which means…”
“I’m your new landlord,” he grinned.
I was still having trouble breathing, but this time around it had nothing to do with Nick’s big eyes, chiseled jaw, or devilish grin. My heart pounded and my chest tightened as I considered what this might mean. The deeds of the building changing hands didn’t have to be the end of me. Or it could change absolutely everything.
Nick could see the distress written all over my face, but didn’t seem interested in doing much to ease my mind. “I thought it was time for me to take a walk around and get to know the business owners along this strip.”
“Since you own it now?” I swallowed hard. “It seems like you would have wanted to do that before buying it.”
“We were more concerned with the revenue reports,” Ben stated.
“Well, you warned me, I guess. You’re really not used to small towns at all,” I said tightly. “But you see...around here...these buildings aren’t just dollar signs. These are businesses that hardworking people have built from the ground up. We love our little shops and diners, and you’d be remiss to overlook how much heart and soul goes into our work. Especially as our new landlord.”