Truly, Madly, Whiskey(9)
“These are great,” Gemma said, bringing Crystal’s mind back to the moment. “But do you really think we can make them and still keep up with the business? Between the kids and the boutique, I have so little free time.”
“I think so, if we start small. Maybe we make a few of one outfit so production is rote, and see how they sell. If they do well, we can recruit design students to work—”
“I can’t afford a manufacturing staff,” Gemma interrupted. “I guess we could see what it would cost to have them made overseas or something.”
“I don’t think we need to do that. Just hear me out.” Crystal moved the papers over and sat on the table, getting more excited by the second. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d find such a fabulous friend, much less have the opportunity to be part of something so exciting. “As I said, we can start by making a few costumes ourselves. I’ll do it after hours.”
“Says the girl who’s going to get a big honking ticket because she doesn’t have time to get her car inspected,” Gemma reminded her.
“I know. I’ll get to that this week.” She knew that probably wasn’t going to happen, given the limited hours of the inspection station, but hoping it was true kept her anxieties at bay.
“I have a sewing machine. I just need the production materials. If they sell well and there’s enough demand, then we can recruit fashion design students and offer them a piece of the pie. I’d have given anything to have an opportunity like this when I was in school. They basically work for free for the first few months, until we get ahead of our costs. Then they get a commission off of each piece that sells. It’s a win-win. They can use their experience on their résumés, like a commissioned internship.”
“Or even better, maybe some of them stay on and we can build a staff.” Gemma’s green eyes glittered with enthusiasm. “I know how we can free up some of your time. I’ll call the store where we ordered my wedding dress and set up a fitting instead of having you hem it and take it in.” Gemma’s dress wasn’t a typical wedding gown. Two weeks ago she’d fallen in love with a knee-length white satin dress with a strapless crisscross bodice, a layer of chiffon over the skirt, and a jeweled sash. She looked gorgeous in it, but they’d had to order her size, and Jewel Braden, the manager of Chelsea’s Boutique, where they’d found the dress, had warned her that that particular dress almost always needed to be fitted.
“Are you sure? Does Chelsea’s even do fittings?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Jewel said they have a part-time seamstress. It’s perfect. We can bring Dixie and look for your dresses at the same time. That is, if you don’t mind going with me? That’s a maid-of-honor thing, isn’t it?”
Crystal laughed. “It’s a best friend thing, and I’m totally on board with it. Let me know when they can do it.” She’d never imagined being anyone’s maid of honor, and when Gemma had asked her, she’d actually teared up. “There’s so much you can do with the company if we make our own costumes. I know you weren’t sold on taking the franchising plunge, and if this goes well, you can sell your designs to similar boutiques all over the country. No need to franchise. Then you’d just need to hire someone to manage the production.”
“Wouldn’t that be amazing? But while I think we can afford the material costs for a few costumes, if you’re talking about making them in bulk, there are other associated costs.”
“Right,” Crystal agreed. “I’ve thought about that, too. Depending on how big you want to go at that point, we can either do some grassroots marketing or get a bank loan.”
Gemma looked over the designs again. “Starting small is the way to go. If it takes off, we’ll figure out the rest. You’re really talented, Crys. You never told me why you stopped going to college.”
“Sure I did.” She slipped off the table and gathered the designs into a stack. “I ran out of money.” She hated lying, but the last thing she wanted was pity, especially from Gemma. They’d met shortly after Crystal had returned to Peaceful Harbor, and she’d been barely holding her shit together. Gemma had been her saving grace. She’d offered friendship and a job Crystal adored, both of which she might not have given so readily had she known how broken Crystal had been back then.
Pushing those thoughts away, she went behind the register and put the designs in her bag to work on later that evening. “I’m going to start bringing out the costumes.” She went into the back room, checked the costumes to make sure they had all their pieces, and tugged the tall metal clothing rack toward the front of the store.
Gemma looked up from where she was crouched beside the accessory bucket in the play area. “Are you going to tell me how last night went with Bear? Or should I pretend you didn’t come over and leave without ever saying hello to me?”
Crystal laughed. “Jealous?”
She set the rack by the dressing area and went back for another, passing Gemma on the way. “I forgot to tell you. The wedding cake tasting is set up for two weeks from Saturday. I requested several flavors because how often do you get to do a wedding cake tasting?”
Gemma was the closest thing to a sister she would ever have, and she hoped she was doing enough to help her prepare for the wedding. She and Truman had wanted a simple backyard wedding. They’d ordered flowers from Petal Me Hard, a local florist, and Crystal had already arranged for the rental of tables and chairs. One of their customers had suggested they call Finlay Wilson, a caterer who had just moved back to Peaceful Harbor and hadn’t yet reopened her business. Finlay was super sweet and so easy to work with. They’d instantly hit it off. She was also affordable and excited about catering the wedding.