A sigh, deep and painful in my ribs. “Do we have any capital to work with?”
“After buying the shop, acquiring the debts, and trying to figure out how much we’re actually making, I only have a little capital left to invest. So we’d better have a workable plan.”
“Shoestring budget—got it. I can work with that.”
“To do what?” he asked dubiously.
“Implement phase one: give this place a complete facelift.”
“What do you have in mind?” Laney asked, her excitement visible in the lighting of her eyes and straightening of her spine.
“Storefront first—that place is a cave. I mean, when was the last time the windows were cleaned? The brick is dark, the ceiling dark … I say we paint everything white.”
Laney, Tess, and Ivy perked up.
“It would brighten everything up,” Tess said, her smile growing as she imagined it. “The lighting could be incredible.”
“And,” I added, smiling back, “we have piles of ancient pieces to use for displays. Tables and drawers, old desks and benches. Buckets and rope and God even knows what else we’ll find in storage. Laney, what are you thinking for social?”
“I’ve got big ideas too, starting with a new logo. Check it out.” She passed her phone down the table and to me.
The logo was hip and current, two arrows crossed with LFS in the left, top, and right spaces and an illustration of a rose below. It was simple and modern and absolutely perfect.
“I’ve got Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter set up, and Jett and I are working on the website,” Laney said.
“We’re gonna need pictures though,” Jett added, looking a little worried about the fact.
“I can help with that,” Tess offered. “I’ve been playing around for a couple of years with studio lighting, and my Instagram is pretty strong.”
Laney chuckled. “You’re being modest—your Instagram is enviable. I was going to ask if you’d be interested in heading up ours.”
“I’d love to,” Tess answered, flushed and smiling.
“Anyone have any objections to the logo?” I asked.
Negatives came from the lot of them.
“Good. I can paint the walls and wash the windows, go through storage and take inventory. Laney, how do you feel about designing us new signage?” I asked.
“Real good.”
Marcus looked skeptical. “I think we should wait until we get some more capital in the door.”
“Even if I can get us a discount?” I asked. “My buddy Davey’s brother makes signs. I just need a design to show him.”
“Davey?” Marcus’s eyes narrowed.
“Yeah, we used to wait tables together.”
“Which time?” Kash asked like the smartass he was.
“Does it matter?” I asked, forging on before he answered. “I can prep to paint tomorrow. Jett, can you help run deliveries?”
“I’m not going to Judy’s, if that’s what you’re asking.”
A laugh rolled through them.
“You say that now.”
“I can help paint tomorrow,” Tess offered. “It’s my day off, but I don’t have much else going on.”
At that, my smile ticked up a notch. “Sounds good. I’ll pick up supplies in the morning. I’ll get into storage too, see what I can drum up. We can rearrange the interior, and then comes the fun part. We’re not going to be ready to advertise, not until we have this place cleaned up, the signage done, our social moving. So I was thinking—what’s the best way to get people in the front door?” I paused, scanning their faces. “We go old school. Window installations.”
“Luke, that’s genius,” Tess breathed, and it might have been the nicest thing she’d ever said to or about me.
“Thank you.” I smiled, feeling like I’d won a major award. “I renovated houses with a contractor for a while in LA, and I worked set design too. I even helped with installations at The Getty and for a while at Anthropologie in Santa Monica. Dad has all the tools I’ll need to build you guys whatever you want.”
“It’s perfect.” Laney beamed.
Kash laughed openly. “You worked at Anthropologie.”
I shrugged. “I dated a girl who managed one, and I happen to like their candles.” I’d earned another chuckle. “Anyway, as far as I’m concerned, you’re the brains here, Laney. I’ll be the muscle, and Tess, I think, should take the lead on design.”
Tess’s face swiveled around, her eyes wide and stunned. “Me?”
“We’ve all seen what you can do,” Laney said, backing me up like I knew she would. She’d be crazy not to. “Of all of us, you are the one with the aesthetic and know-how when it comes to floristry. Luke is right. This is your wheelhouse, and I think we should lean on you.”
The color rose in her cheeks, her lashes brushing them when she looked down at her hands. “I … I’m not sure what to say.”
“Say yes,” I urged. “I want to stop every person who passes our window dead in their tracks. I want our windows to lure them in. I want to become a staple in this city again, and this? This is going to set us apart.”
She’d looked up during my speech, her eyes soft and rich, stirring something in my chest. A familiarity, like a memory I couldn’t grasp, like a dream that had slipped away when I woke. But then it was gone.
“All right, I’ll do it.”
A chorus of cheering and relieved laughter filled the room.
“Ivy can take over for you in the back while we get plans together for the front and implement them for the weekend—there’s a big event in Washington Square, and we should have more foot traffic than usual. It’s the perfect time to unveil the new look,” I said. “Kash, you keep doing what you’re doing in the greenhouse. Jett, you’ll float between doubling for me and helping Mom around the house. Marcus, keep working on untangling the finances. Laney, you let us know what you need for marketing. And I’ll back up Tess. Tomorrow, we start. Tomorrow, we’re going to take the first step to turning this ship around. And if we don’t make Mom cry from sheer joy by the time it’s done, I’ll eat Laney’s raincoat.”
Another laugh, this one a little bawdier.
Chatter broke out among them, and for a moment, I stood at the head of that table and watched them all, the accomplishment empowering and the excitement intoxicating. I could see it all, see the shop full of customers, that little bell dinging until the clapper wore out. Ideas on ideas on ideas fluttered through my mind—painting the front door a bright, cheery shade of blue, running beams across the ceilings so we could hang planters and racks and installations from them, imagining the walls crisp and white against the dark old counter and the black-and-white-tiled floor. I wondered what kinds of ideas Tess would have, wondered if she’d let me in on them or if she’d just give me orders and expect me to march on them.
Either way, it was going to be a thrill. We were going to make this place everything it was meant to be, everything it had once been. We were going to save it.
I wandered into the front while their attention was off of me, making lists of inventory, considering how we might organize it. Golden streetlight streamed in through the grate outside the window, and I made a mental note of the approximate size and depth of the window space, noting the casings and devising ways to hang things from it without ruining the old wood. There were so many things I could build out of raw wood, and I felt a greedy anticipation at what I’d find in storage. A hundred seventy years of history, I supposed, history we’d bring back into this space with its second life.