“It is.” Mrs. Antoinette glanced around the shop, her smile fading. “I hope it isn’t affecting you too badly. They’ve been having a grand sale all of last week.”
Which explained why Olivier’s Strings had been a ghost shop. With all their supplies stocked up, who would bother visiting Olivier’s store anymore?
“You should go take a look at the Prime Road branch,” Mrs. Antoinette added. “It’s about four times the size of this place. “And more affordable, I must admit.”
Olivier’s heart sank. “I’ve already lowered the prices here.”
“Sorry?” She cupped her ear again, leaning in.
“I’ve lowered the prices,” Olivier repeated. Talking about this was one thing, but saying over and over how badly his shop was doing? It made his chest hurt.
“I know, and I don’t think it’s enough. These are fifty cents cheaper over at Total Sounds.” Mrs. Antoinette nodded at the boxes of rosin. “But I don’t want to see this place go out of business, Olivier. Do something.”
Olivier breathed out. Levi was listening in from his corner of the store. Maybe Levi should apply for a part-time position at Total Sounds—it certainly would be a more stable income for him.
Olivier rang up the bottles of rosin, forcing another smile when he said, “Did you bring your member card? It’s an extra ten percent off.”
Mrs. Antoinette fished in her wallet, then shook her head. “I’m not giving you the card. Keep the difference, Olivier. You’ll need it.”
Olivier’s throat closed. She could’ve saved seventy cents. And yet, she was doing this for him.
“Thanks,” he croaked, slipping the rosin into a small bag, printed with his wood-grain logo. “Have a great day, Mrs. Antoinette.”
She took the bag, waved, and disappeared out of the shop. And now the shop was truly empty, save for Olivier and Levi.
“That sucks,” Levi said, scowling. “First the big groceries and department stores, and now music stores, too?”
Olivier sighed. “It was bound to happen, I guess. You know... why don’t you head on over to Total Sounds? They might have a spot for temp staff.”
“Are you serious?” Levi looked incredulous. “I’m not jumping ship.”
“They can pay you better than I can. And you know that, too.”
Levi scowled. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to work for the competition.”
Olivier winced. “At least, get an application form.”
“No way, buddy.”
“Yes way.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
Levi glared, and Olivier glowered back. Then Levi blurted, “If you want me to work there so much, why don’t you go and get me a form? I’ll keep watch over here.”
Olivier growled. “I’m trying to look out for you, damn it. It’s not like your parents are paying for your tuition.”
Levi made a face. “Well, I’m doing fine working my way through college. Don’t you worry about me.”
But Olivier would rather worry about Levi, than himself. Levi was a better person, anyway. Not someone who went around sleeping with his brother.
If Zan ever came back, and if he saw how low Olivier had sunken, he would laugh. Zan always did. Nothing Olivier did was enough for him—not the sex, not the cooking. He’d treated Olivier like a servant, ordering him around. Then he’d slapped Olivier, thrown him against the wall, and Olivier had accepted all of that.
It had been easier than imagining a life with Eric.
His heart aching, Olivier touched the scab on his neck. Eric’s marking was right over Zan’s—two bites that never should have landed.
He never did contact Eric. Didn’t see a point, anyway, when there was hardly anything attractive about himself. His business was failing. He’d lost any chance of conceiving Eric’s baby.
“Get out and get some fresh air,” Levi said, stepping over to give Olivier a nudge. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll see your brother again.”
I can’t. Olivier glared. “I’m going to get you an application form, damn it.”
“Fine. But stay out there—maybe you’ll cheer up. Find something good for you.”
Olivier refused to admit that Levi was right. He stalked out of the shop, shoving his hands in his pockets.
It was chilly out. Meadowfall was too close to the California coast to see snow in winters, but the nights sometimes dropped to near-freezing temperatures. Olivier huddled in his sweater, striding along the streets downtown.
He should’ve taken his car; it was cold. More so than yesterday. The sky was too bright, and the sounds from the traffic grated on his ears.
What’s wrong with me? Am I falling sick?
Groaning at the possibility, Ollie pulled the neck of his sweater up over his mouth, just to stay warm.
He passed the bare trees along the streets, and couples walking hand-in-hand. He passed omegas with babies swaddled in their arms, and the warm candlelight in restaurants, luring customers inside.
He wished... that he had someone. Eric.
It felt like forever before he reached Prime Road, and the rows of high-end shops there. From afar, the great signboard for Total Sounds towered over the low buildings like a beacon. Cars turned into the parking lot, lured by the crimson SALE! sign.
I should probably do that, too, Olivier thought. But will it save my business?
He followed the vehicles into the parking lot, then ducked through the doors of the Total Sounds branch. Inside, the ceilings were two stories high, and aisles upon aisles of music equipment lined the linoleum floor—drums, music stands, amplifier cables.
The store carried product after product, each stacked ten deep. Olivier wandered through the aisles, his heart heavy.
He didn’t have the space or capital to sell as many products as Total Sounds did. He couldn’t purchase his stock in their volumes, and he didn’t have their sort of money for ads.
If this went on... he could see why his customers were leaving. Because they had better choices here, better prices.
What am I going to do if my shop closes?
Sick to his stomach, Olivier turned around, trudging toward the exit. Why bother going back to his shop? Why bother trying?
And then he was angry at Total Sounds for coming to Meadowfall, stealing his business away from him. I was here first. I should be doing better than
