Emerald Cove

Chapter 6

Charlotte's POV

Once Jessica and I have finished up for the evening, Katherine and I say goodbye to Jessica and her mom and head out to Katherine's sports car. Her car is very sleek, black with two doors and looks super fast. I realize I'm gaping at it with my mouth open. "I'm not a car person, but this is a beautiful car," I say.

"Not a car person!" she screeches in fake exasperation as she nudges me in the shoulder. She opens the passenger door and bends down into the car to move some of her school books to the back. I am suddenly aware of how toned, tan, and long her legs are. She's wearing cute coral shorts and a blue surf styles t-shirt. I realize I'm staring and what's worse is that, judging by her blush, I think she may have caught me staring.

"So have you given it any more thought?" she asks suddenly breaking the comfortable silence we had fallen into during our car ride. I've been so caught up with wallowing in my embarrassment that I haven't been paying much attention to how far we've went.

"The project?" I ask and she nods, "Yeah a bit. I think you had a good angle when you suggested we think of what we are passionate about. What are you passionate about?"

She pauses for a long moment. "I think the better question is what are we passionate about that can lead to making money,"she says with a laugh. "I am passionate about the beach, animals, human rights, and... cars. However, I'm not sure how any of that can be turned into a business."

We are both silent for a moment, mulling this all over. Finally I say thoughtfully, "I think I have an idea. I'm not sure how feasible it is as a business idea, but what if we created our business model based on the beach and encouraging people to not litter and share the beach with the sea animals..."

She pulled into a gated drive and stops the car to punch in the gate code. Meanwhile I'm speechless. I don't think I've ever been anywhere that required a gate. The gates swings open and we are driving down a paved drive that is edged with huge palm trees and azalea bushes.

I'm so absorbed looking at the landscaping that I don't see the house until she stops in front of it. I'm speechless. The drive is circler in front of the house and when I step out of the car I realize what I originally thought was pavement is actually some sort of dark brown stone. The house itself is breathtaking. I think I literally gasped when I fully see it. It has wood shingled siding, copper colored tin roof, and a gazillion windows. She leads me through the front door and I swear I have step directly into a magazine or some finished product of luxury homes on those design shows my mom sometimes watches. There are wood floors and twice as many windows looking out of the back of the house. The house has a elegant beachy feel, but at the same time it feels warm and cozy.

After she offers me something to drink or eat, she leads me up the staircase and into her bedroom. I am suddenly very aware that this is a very intimate side of her. You can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. For instance, in my small room at home I have a bed, a desk, books everywhere, academic awards line my shelves, and there on a small table next to my bed is college catalogs for all of the schools I'm considering. As I like to put it my room is organized chaos. Essentially that's me in a nut shell; organized chaos. Her room is no different. It defines her and tells me so very much about her. Her room is much larger than mine. She has a desk and office chair, a huge bed, and a plush, white couch. The couch is set up so that the back is to us when we walk in the room, but it is facing French doors and even though it's dark outside I somehow know the view amazing. There are pictures everywhere of exotic locations and of her with a surf board, a group of kids in what looks like Africa, and so on. There is a built in bookcase with books on most of the shelves, but also trophies and awards. Everything is very neat and you can tell that everything has a place.

"We can turn this into a business," she says as she plops down on the couch, pushing throw pillows out of her way, and pulls out her notebook. "What about apparel or a gift shop? Something with beachy designs, but also we can tag something on there to remind people to not be assholes by littering."

"Yes, but I don't think 'don't be an asshole' can go into our business plan," I say as I sit next to her and tuck my legs under me. "However, I like the gift shop idea. I love those little trinket shops, but sometimes they are cheaply made and overpriced."

The conversation continued on with us shooting ideas back and forth. After a few hours I was yawning and she was offering to take me home. By the time she dropped me off at home, we had decided to make our business a local elegant trinket and antique shop. We would sell items with our brand, a tribal turtle, on it and even have bumper stickers and other clings with the turtle and a phrase of "Leave only your footprints".  Our conversation was great and the topic really flowed. Yes, we still had a mountain of work to do on this, but at least we knew what we were doing now and the best part is that we didn't argue once and she pulled her weight. This may just be the start to a beautiful friendship.