I wave off his comment as I keep my back to him and clean my stuff. “Nah, got a shit ton of orders. More than I expected.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
I sigh in frustration that I can’t even clean my stuff with so much on my mind. I keep going over the same spots repeatedly, forgetting to put cleanser on each time. Ugh. “I thought I changed my one social media ad to show the promotion, but apparently I didn’t submit it or something. So, it never went through. Those who saw the promotion only got it because they were already on the website or part of my newsletter. You know, people already looking at my stuff.”
“I’m still not following.”
I huff as I throw my rag on the table and turn, leaning against the table as I cross my arms and look at him. “I’m mad at the potential sales I lost. The possible new clients that the algorithm was going to push the sale out to. I watched my numbers the entire time, but since I never saw a drop in sales, I never noticed the lack of new clients. I only noticed something was off when I didn’t get charged for the ad. An entire monthwith no ads.” I glare at the corner and hate that I have nothing more to throw. At least nothing in arm’s reach at the moment.
“Didn’t you say that revenue didn’t fall off? So the sales you made are clean of advertising payout?”
I nod at his words, still glaring at the pile.
“Isn’t that a good thing? Word of mouth and repeat customers are what’s driving the sales market right now.”
I look back at him to see him scratching his head, literally.
I push the hair that fell out of my ponytail off my face as I nod. I thought of that, but my anger outweighs the thrill. “Yeah, and I should be happy. But I can’t stop thinking about how many more it could have been. How much more I could have made.” I know I’m being stupid, but when you’re in business for yourself, a small mistake feels huge.
“Even worse is that when I noticed the ad was off, I turned it back on, but somehow the system changed or a glitch happened, and I lost all the fan reviews linked to the original ad post. So I have to start over. Three years’ worth of good press down the drain. Fucking sucks.” I kick at the floor but still just want to throw things. And keep throwing them. I should hit the gym. Then again, when I’m worked up like this, I’m too much in my head to do more than get more pissed at myself. Throwing things is where I’m at right now, not hitting the bag. But since I can’t throw any more possible inventory, I’m stuck glaring at the floor and scuffing it up with my boots.
And apparently dealing with a biker who can’t get the hint to leave me alone to sink into my bad mood.
“Why are you here?”
He shrugs. “Wanted to know if you were hungry.”
“You asking me out?” I’m more surprised than anything, and it completely puts what I was feeling three seconds ago on hold.
“Maybe. You interested?”
I feel my lips give in to a slow smile before I nod.
He gives me one of his own. The kind that probably melts panties off women. “You think you can be ready in an hour?”
“Sure.”
“Great. I’ll be back to pick you up.” He hops off the table and walks away, stopping at the last second to turn back. “Oh, and I’ll pay. No need for you to waste all that extra revenue,” he says with a smirk.
I swear, if I had something, I would throw it. This time at his head.
“Okay, this is fine. Everything is fine. You’re fine. You look fine. You’ll be fine.” I take a deep breath and hold it for three seconds before blowing it out at the mirror.
“Um, based off all that, I don’t think you’re fine,” Summer mumbles through my phone. I put her on speaker after I did my makeup so I could change into my outfit. And sure, it might have taken me a few tries to find one I liked. Okay, like twelve or something. Enough to forget that she was still on the phone. So when I come out to do my manifestation in the mirror, because I saw it on TikTok earlier todayand thought I would try it, it’s no wonder I freak and knock my phone off the counter.
“Shit.”
“Well, I know that’s not a good sign. What’d you do now?”
I bend down and pick it up, no longer freaked, just annoyed. Heavily annoyed. “Dropped my phone and cracked the screen.”
And this right here, ladies and gentlemen, is why I don’t date.
I put the phone carefully back on the sink counter and then rest my hands on the counter, too, holding myself up as I try to take another calming breath to get back to my Zen state. Whatever that is. Still trying to find it. The woman on TikTok said if you just breathe enough times, you’ll find it. I call BS, but I’m still doing it, so who’s the real fool in all of this?
Me. That’s who.
“Don’t.” Summer’s voice comes through loud and clear.
