The Love Knot
Authors: Maya Sheppard
Maya Ashley Sheppard
2012 Copyright by Global Grafx Press, LLC
All Rights Reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author or Global Grafx Press, LLC.
To my mom, who always encouraged me to write even when she had no idea what I was writing about.
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Three Years Earlier
Claire Simms waited eagerly to meet her boyfriend of one year so they could go see the new “Spiderman” movie that had just come out. She checked her watch once again – he should have been at her dorm 10 minutes ago. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and called him –
no answer. She tried texting him, but, five minutes later, she still had no responding text. Feeling fear squirm in her belly, she walked outside to see if he had already pulled up.
“If he isn’t here in the next five minutes, I’ll go to his room. He said he really wanted to see this movie,” she muttered to herself. Five minutes later, she sighed and got into her car. The closer she got to his dorm room, the more persistent the swirling feeling in her stomach became, almost as if it were warning her. Running to the second floor, she knocked at his door . . . no answer. She turned to leave, then heard a . . . groan? Was he sick? She tried the doorknob, which was unlocked. The snaking feeling of apprehension in her stomach began lashing wildly, making her feel nauseated. Opening the door wide, the sunlight fell on two people, nude and writhing on the bed.
“Scott! What are you . . . who?” Claire clamped her jaws tight against the onrush of bile, turned and ran downstairs, where she lost her lunch. As she finished being sick, she heard Scott’s voice.
“Claire! Baby, I’m sorry! I never meant for you to find out like . . .”
“Bullshit! You never meant for me to find out – ever!” She turned, tears burning her eyes as she ran to her car and peeled out of the Monagle Hall Residence Center parking lot. Back in her room, she was sick again as her mind replayed the scene in Scott’s room – him, on his bed, naked and having sex with some nameless girl. “Never again. Nobody will ever play me like that, ever again,” Claire vowed, wiping tears and perspiration from her face as she rinsed her mouth out yet again.
Nobody had ever played her again. She learned to keep her inheritance her secret. If others wanted only to “love” her for what she could give them, they were no friends of hers. If being alone was the price she paid, so be it.
Present Day
Claire sat in her investment manager’s office, discussing how much she needed to rent store space, buy shelving, decorate the store, then buy yarns, knitting needles, crochet hooks and other supplies for The Love Knot.
“I’ve been visiting other stores that specialize in fiber crafts and this is what I’ve found – they have several different product lines. I want to store the yarns in lined baskets, make it look more homey and inviting. Of course, I’ll need shelves and hooks to hang the supplies like scissors, hooks and needles. I’ll also be stocking patterns so my customers can find what they want to make. My dream is to make it a one-stop shop.”
“Okay. What spaces have you seen? Do you know what they rent for?” asked Jeff Travers, Claire’s investments manager.
“Yes, I have. I’ve seen something like four vacant spaces and they all rent for about $8,000 per month.”
“Have you done anything to see how well The Love Knot would do here in Las Cruces? You know, we do have two crafting stores in town, plus a couple of other specialty stores,” warned Jeff.
“Yes. But, the crafting stores are more general. They sell all types of crafts and hobbies, where mine focuses only on fiber crafts. The specialty stores sell rare, high-priced yarns. I want to sell yarns that anyone can afford. Acrylic, wool, cotton, cotton blends, silk, ribbon, you name it.”
“Observant! You’re right.” Jeff smiled. “You’ve done your homework, Claire. You know, I’d be one of your biggest customers.”
Claire smiled in slight disbelief. “Do you . . . knit? Or crochet?”
“Crochet. I find it fits my fingers better, plus I’m less likely to drop several stitches. I’ve made several beanies for my brothers, nephews and me.”
Claire smiled again. “It’s rare to meet a man who crochets, much less admits it. I’d like to see your work!”
“We’re out there. Let’s just put it this way – when my buddies find out I crochet, I get lots of reactions. I’ll remember to bring some of my stuff in before our next meeting. Did you know that knitting used to be a craft that men pursued so they could make fishing nets?”
“Yeah, I know. Um, about my proposal . . . here’s my business plan. I don’t want to borrow money – or, if I have to, I’d like it to be the smallest amount possible.”
They returned to discussing Claire’s business plans. Jeff showed her the history of investments that Bluestone Travers, L.L.C. had made on her behalf.
“Over the past two years, your investments have seen a net gain of approximately $20,000. You could use just the gains to fund your store, leaving the original inheritance amount to continue to gain interest for your future. I can release the interest funds to you as soon as you are ready to start decorating the space you choose. You’ll need to decorate, paint, order displays and stock. The $20,000 will ‘seed’ your beginning and allow you to keep your store afloat until you begin to see a profit.”
“That much! I’ll do this. Now that I know what I have available to use, I’ll start narrowing down where I want to rent. I’ll stay in touch and let you know to release the funds. How will I get access to them?”
Jeff explained how the investment firm would make Claire’s money available for her to use. Claire took detailed notes, nodding her understanding and asking questions.
“Claire, before you leave, I’d like to ask you one question.”
At Claire’s answering nod, he asked her, “You just graduated from New Mexico State. What motivated you to start your own business rather than find a job elsewhere?”
“My grandmother and one of my aunts taught me how to love crochet. Even before my grandma passed away, it’s been my dream to own my own fiber crafts store. Besides, I like to determine my own work days and path, rather than allowing someone else to do so.”
As Claire spoke, Jeff’s eyes rested on Claire’s delicate beauty – the intense blue of her eyes became even more vivid as she spoke about her dream. Using one hand, she tossed her black hair over her shoulder – the combination of her eye and hair color was striking.
“Uh, okay, then,” said Jeff, struggling to return to the reason for their meeting. “Just start scouting out locations and let me know what your progress is. I’ll be here for you every step of the way – and I’ll be one of your first customers. You’re going to succeed, Ms. Simms. I can feel it.” He smiled, liking the confidence in her eyes.
“Thank you, Mr. Travers. I’m going to be focusing my search where Las Cruces is the most highly populated and where the traffic is going. My store will either be on Lohman, Amador or maybe even on University. But I don’t want it too close to any of the chain crafting and hobby stores.”
“Good idea. You want people to be able to get to your store, but you don’t want them to be able to leave yours and take a short hop and skip to your competition.” Jeff extended his hand toward Claire. As she took it, both felt a strong jolt of physical awareness traveling along their arms. Claire’s eyes widened apprehensively as Jeff’s grip tightened on her hand. Wriggling it, she pulled free quickly.
Claire left, walking out into the intense sunlight of a Las Cruces summer morning. Knowing how much she would have available to use, she decided to begin scouting out possible locations. She drove down to the University Avenue area and found “for rent” signs posted on some spaces. Writing down the numbers, she parked and called them, asking about the rent, square footage and other terms, making notes as she spoke. Driving to the Lohman/Amador area, she repeated the process.
At home, she started her computer and started making notes. After writing down everything she had discussed with Jeff Travers, she entered office space rental information into a table for easy referencing, then started browsing different yarn and crafting vendors so she could get an idea of how much she might pay every month for ordering her stock. Pulling up the document she had been working on earlier, she entered the pricing information she found, then saved it.
After finishing her work, Claire’s mind went back to the moment when Jeff’s hand had clasped hers. Feeling the same shiver of awareness along the nerves of her hand and arm, she clasped her arms around her middle. No! Love and sex will not be a part of my life! Not ever again!
***
In his office, Jeff bent his head over the notes he had taken during his meeting with Claire Simms. Remembering his body’s reaction, he forced himself to return to business. Muttering to himself, he went over Claire’s plans for her store. “Hopefully, the $20,000 in interest will be sufficient for her needs. If she’s careful, she’ll have some left over for emergencies.” Once again, his mind wandered to the soft slightness of her hand. Tossing his pen down in exasperation, he got up and walked out to the hallway.
“Melissa, I’m taking a break. I’ll be back shortly,” he tossed over his shoulder as he strode out of the suite of offices. Stopping at a coffee shop in the building, he slapped down cash for a steaming coffee (double shot of espresso with cream and a single packet of sweetener) and a bagel. Taking the snack back to his office, he was determined to focus on work and not his unexpected feeling of attraction for the slight, darkly beautiful Claire Simms.
Claire met her mother, Mindy for a shopping trip. Mindy wanted to buy new clothing for her only daughter – “After all, you’re becoming a business woman and you need to have the appropriate wardrobe. Having ‘a’ single dress suit is fine when you’re interviewing for jobs, but sweetheart, you need new clothing! You’ve been living in jeans, sneakers, t-shirts and sweatshirts for much too long. We’ll do lunch after,” she promised.
Claire hated shopping. With a black-and-purple passion. But, she saw her mother’s point of view and decided she would bear the inevitable. Unless she was wandering through the yarn aisles of a store, she merely tolerated the experience, not understanding how other women managed to have fun.
“Okay. Let’s go. But I warn you, mom. I’m going to buy only the minimum, then we’re outta there – got it?”
“Got it. Let’s start at the mall, then we’ll go to Ross and Marshall’s. I’ve seen several really cute things that would suit you perfectly!”
Claire rolled her eyes. Her mother was one of those who “enjoyed” the whole shopping experience. Sighing, she grabbed two bottles of water and strolled out of her apartment with her mother.
Two hours later, she and her mother tossed several large clothing bags into the trunk of her mother’s stylish Accord and took off for the shopping center on East Lohman.
“Mom, let me check just one thing here – I want to see if that space is . . . shoot! It’s not vacant any more. I’d better message Mr. Travers and let him know to strike that one from my list,” Claire said with a mourning tone in her voice.
“So, how is it going with plans for your store? You’re still looking for spaces, obviously,” Mindy said.
“It’s going well – other than losing the space I wanted the most. Let’s make the rest of this shopping trip fast, eat and get home so I can start nailing down a space. I don’t want to lose a good space to someone else. Then, I can start ordering supplies and hire a contractor to work on the interior. I’ll also need to design a sign for the outside and get a graphic designer to help me with business cards, letterhead and a website. I’ll go to the university for that.” As she spoke, they walked into Marshall’s and started looking at the business wear. Mindy quickly pulled out several outfits and tossed them into their shopping cart.