Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)

Chapterish 21

[Quote Aesthetic of the Chapterish]

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FLAGSHIP CITY

Today's the day. And as I slide into my business-black jeans and button down my blue shirt, I can't help but take a deep breath and rub my hands over my face.

It's not that I'm panicking, because I'm not. It's not that we aren't stupidly prepared, because we are. It's the crushing realization that this next chapter –this responsibility –is exactly what my father always wanted for me.

I try not to think about it anymore and glance at my phone instead.

C U SOON BEBE <3

I smile at Cece's texts, wishing she was here in person instead. She left early this morning to meet Randa at an outdoor photo shoot near Dodger Stadium. I know she'll be at Edge on time with her semi-celebrity posse in tow, causing a paparazzi frenzy.

That's exactly what we need.

Miles has been texting me all morning with little details about this afternoon's grand opening. Floor displays are ready. Spare inventory is overflowing in the storage room. Juice bar is stocked. Bar is stocked. Emotions are high.

Yes, the flagship is setting sail.

Edge opens at 3:00 PM. At least that's when I'm doing the grandiose ribbon-cutting ceremony at the front door.

I look at Miles's most recent texts.

You find the extra retail bags?

The Eurotote ones with the new logo

I hammer back to Miles telling him to relax and that I'm not totally useless and that I already stacked the bags on the shelves beneath the register.

11:01 AM

I know there's next to nothing to do at the store before it opens, but I also know that I can't sit in the apartment much longer. Even if it means braving this hazy LA day. So, I finish my coffee, grab my wallet and keys, and head to Edge.

To keep my mind off the success (or failure) that the next several hours will bring, I think about proposing. I think about Cece saying yes. I think about the bomb sex we'll have after.

Then I think about my brother's wedding –about the NYC weekend Lauren insists on having. It's two weeks away, so I'll have to wait until at least that's over before I propose. Not just so we don't steal the limelight from Brody and Lauren, but because, well... Her.

I force myself not to think about her now. Not because thinking of Ems hurts me, but because it haunts me. That's the problem when people leave us. They fade into memories, into ghosts, and it haunts us. It haunts us like a favorite book we can never read again or a once-loved film whose name we've forgotten.

The haunt is manageable. At least that's what I tell myself as I walk up to Edge.

I admire its facade from the sidewalk. Without the peeling orange scaffolding and plastic tarps, it's actually quite magnificent. Maybe not Rodeo Drive magnificent, but good enough.

I still enter through the side door. I blame Miles for this habit. The door swings open and I'm greeted with a gust of air condition that smells like new clothes and Palo Santo. It's the seven wall plug-ins strategically placed throughout the three-stories. We want everyone to go home with their clothes smelling like Edge.

Aromatic branding. According to Miles.

"Hey man," Miles says, poking his head out from the room behind the counter.

"Sup." I nod.

"Ready?" He asks.

"Of course. Are you?" I joke. "Everything looks great."

I survey the room. Everything does look great. Not a single pair of socks or V-neck out of place. A fancy shopping bag hangs from the black railing that winds upstairs. My eyes rest on the line drawing of Edge's new logo. Dainty in its simplicity.

Miles and I run through the check list three times before the rest of the staff arrives at 1:30 PM.

Izzy and Javier work the floor and front counter. Jess and Steph retreat to their domain upstairs: the juice bar. Three more USC brand ambassador athletes show up, compliments of Miles. Thanks to all their mentions on Instagram, there's a solid line of patrons forming outside the door.

It's only 2 PM.

I know most people are coming at a chance to see Cece and her lusty cohort of model friends. Or for the LA famous college athletes. A football player, a rower, and volleyballer all walk into a bar. And the bar's name is Edge.

"Hi guys, thanks for coming." I greet them on the floor next to the drawstring and duffle bags. "We open in an hour. Feel free to get a juice or visit the rooftop."

"OKAY! Listen up," Miles rallies the group.

I listen to his pep talk speech thing and realize it should be me doing all this. But that's not my vibe. It's not that I don't love my flagship or that I'm not committed, because I do and I am. Miles is just better at the marketing and PR. I've also given him free rein to run Edge as he sees fit.

I climb the stairs and do one last sweep through the flagship city. There's nothing to change.

I can already hear Cece in the mini lobby, talking about traffic out front.

"Awful. Even for LA."

"Traffic is good. That means people!" Miles' voice drifts up to me.

I stop on the stairs above the first floor. Looking down, I see photo flashes in the glass windows.

Snap. Snap. Flash.

I should be used to this by now, but I don't think I ever will be.

As I see the back of Cece's cute little head, I think maybe the constant spotlight is worth it.

Like other things, it is manageable.