March 2010. Two months post-Penny.
The Burbank shop's register is ringing constantly. Jake's at the counter, Marcus is restocking the new releases wall. I'm in the back office reviewing numbers.
Revenue's up forty percent since December.
Wil's podcast promotion worked. Every episode he ntions the shops, we get a flood of new custors. Industry people making pilgrimages. Fans wanting to see "the place Wil recomnds."
My phone buzzes. Text from Wil himself.
Wil: Have you seen the numbers? We're printing money.
: Your 12% is very happy.
Wil: My 12% wants to discuss expansion tiline. Coffee Thursday?
: Works for .
I close the spreadsheet. Walk out to the floor.
The shop's packed. Twenty people browsing. Three at the register. The reading area's full.
This is what I built.
Not just a store. A community.
Jake catches my eye. Grins. "Good problem to have, right?"
"Best problem."
My phone again. Leonard.
Leonard: Ga night. Your place. We're doing the tournant Sheldon's been demanding.
: Mario Kart?
Leonard: Obviously.
: I'll order pizza.
Leonard: Already handled. Bernadette's bringing her homade cookies too.
: She bakes now?
Leonard: Howard's influence. It's terrifying and delicious.
Thursday. Coffee with Wil at the sa place we first discussed partnership six months ago.
He's got spreadsheets printed out. Actual paper.
"San Diego," he announces. "That's shop three."
"I was thinking that."
"Comic-Con city. Huge geek population. Tourist traffic. Perfect location."
"I've been scouting spaces online."
"I want to add another hundred K. Bring my stake to 15%."
I do the math quickly. "That values us at a million."
"Conservative estimate. We're worth more."
"You really believe that?"
"Stuart." He leans forward. "I've been in this industry thirty years. I know a good thing. This is a good thing."
We spend an hour planning. Lease options. Buildout costs. Tiline.
"Sumr opening," I decide. "July. Right before Comic-Con."
"Brilliant timing."
"You'll promote?"
"Every podcast episode until then. Plus social dia. I'll make San Diego the destination shop."
We shake on it. Partners in cri.
Walking back to my car, I'm grinning.
A year ago I was alone with one failing shop.
Now I'm negotiating expansion with a celebrity investor.
The powers work.
But also—I work.
That matters.
Friday night. My penthouse.
The gang arrives at seven. Howard's carrying a box of cookies that slls incredible.
"Bernadette made snickerdoodles."
"When did she beco a baker?"
"When I beca her taste-tester. Best arrangent ever."
We set up Mario Kart. Sheldon's created a bracket system. Obviously.
"Sixteen races. Elimination style. Winner receives this." He produces a trophy. Actual trophy. Engraved: "APARTNT 4A MARIO KART CHAMPION 2010."
"You made a trophy?" Leonard asks.
"I purchased a trophy. Making would require tools I don't possess."
"That's—actually aweso," Raj says.
We play for three hours. It's loud. Competitive. Sheldon's raging when Raj blue-shells him. Howard's doing victory dances. Leonard's quietly thodical.
I'm having fun.
Pure, uncomplicated fun.
No girlfriend drama. No relationship weight. Just friends being idiots together.
Sheldon wins, obviously. Holds the trophy aloft.
"My superior reflexes and strategic planning prevailed."
"You cheated," Howard protests.
"I optimized. There's a difference."
"Cheating."
"Optimizing."
After everyone leaves, I'm cleaning up pizza boxes and cookie crumbs.
My phone's got photos from the night. Sheldon with his trophy. Howard's victory dance. Leonard's concentrated face.
Normal.
This is normal now.
And it's good.
Saturday morning. The Pasadena shop.
I'm restocking the indie section when a woman walks in. Mid-twenties. Cute. Browsing the graphic novels.
She picks up Saga.
"That's incredible," I say automatically.
"You've read it?"
"Cover to cover. Twice."
"Sold." She brings it to the counter. "What else do you recomnd?"
We talk for twenty minutes. She buys four books. Leaves her number.
"In case I need more recomndations," she says.
After she's gone, Jake's watching .
"You going to call her?"
"Maybe."
"You're ready?"
"I think so."
"Good. You've been—" He searches for words. "—back to yourself. The last month or so."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Like the Penny thing happened. But it's not happening anymore. You're just—Stuart. Running shops. Helping custors. Living."
"That's the goal."
"Then you hit it."
I look at the number. Sarah. 310 area code.
Maybe I'll text her.
Or maybe I won't.
But the point is—I could.
That's progress.
Note:
Please give good reviews and power stones itrings more people and more people ans more chapters?
My Patreon is all about exploring 'What If' tilines, and you can get instant access to chapters far ahead of the public release.
Choose your journey:
Tiline Viewer ($6): Get 10 chapters of early access 5 new chapters weekly.
Tiline Explorer ($9): Jump 15-20 chapters ahead of everyone.
Tiline Keeper ($15): Get Instant Access to chapters the mont I finish writing them. No more waiting.
Read the raw, unfiltered story as it unfolds. Your support makes this possible!
👉 Find it all at patreon/Whatif0
User Comments
0 comments from readers