Happy reading!

34

"Just relax and be yourself." Tanya is telling me Monday afternoon. She arrived thirty minutes before with a photographer in tow who had taken photos of me outside the store while I tried not to think about how awkward I felt. "Pretend I'm a friend you're having coffee with."

"Okay." I rub my hands along my jeans, my leg bouncing. We're sitting in the office for some privacy while Angela shows the photographer around the store so he can get some shots.

Tanya flips some of her curly, strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder as she writes something down on the pad in front of her. I can't help but compare myself to the woman across from me. She's supermodel pretty with the strawberry blonde hair and eyes the color of the ocean. She's tall and willowy, exactly the type of person I can see having been with Edward. She fit him better than me.

"Alright," she places her phone on the desk, hitting record. "Let's get started. You got your start through Etsy and posts on Instagram, is that correct?"

"Yeah, I started my shop not really thinking that anything would come of it but was trying to be hopeful. I got occasional work through Etsy and Instagram, but it really wasn't until Rosalie Hale commissioned a piece that things really took off. Prior to that, I had maybe fifteen thousand followers, which is still a lot of people, but after she posted about the piece I did for her, it exploded. Last I checked, our page is sitting at two hundred fifty thousand followers."

"Our page?" Tanya asks, intrigued by my phrasing.

"I wouldn't be able to do any of this without my assistant, Angela. She's the social media whiz and helps keep all of the business side of things running. I owe her a lot."

"It sounds like you've had a lot of help getting where you are. Would you say that's been necessary for your success?"

"I think if anyone wants to be successful, help is necessary."

"Hmm." Tanya hums, writing some notes down on her pad.

"I'm sorry." My leg bounces faster as I chew my lip. "I'm a little nervous."

"You're doing great." Tanya assures me with a warm smile. "Let's continue. How long ago did you open your store?"

The interview continues for another hour, all the while Tanya remains professional and friendly, helping me feel more comfortable when I feel like my answers aren't good enough. Once we emerge from the office, she has the photographer get some more shots of the store and me at my canvas working. When she's satisfied that they have everything they need, she lets the photographer know they can pack up.

"My editor wants the article in the upcoming issue that comes out next week, trying to piggy-back on the momentum you're having on social media. I'll try to get a copy of the article to you to read before it goes to print, but we're on a pretty tight deadline."

"Understandable. We're just happy to be included." I give her a smile.

With a smile and a wave Tanya and the photographer leave.

"How did it go?" Angela asks, leaning against the doorjamb of the office where I'm sitting in her desk chair, taking a moment to recharge.

"I think it went okay." I shrug. "It just blows my mind that anyone would want to talk to me about," I gesture around, "all of this."

"I wish you wouldn't put yourself down like that." She walks over, sitting on her desk. "You're kind of amazing, Bells. They wouldn't be doing an article on you if you weren't."

"I just got lucky, Ang. That's the only reason any of this has happened."

"Yeah, you got lucky because Rose shouted you out and has continued to shout you out. But your talent is what's kept you relevant. If you didn't have that, you would've fizzled out after a couple weeks. That hasn't happened because you're good at what you do. Rosalie can't manufacture that for you."

"You're very wise." I tell her, giving her a half-hearted smile, which she returns.

"Well, I have to be. Especially when my best friend decides to be ridiculous and act like she doesn't have any talent."

I groan, throwing my head back against the chair. "Okay, I get it. I'm talented."

She looks at me with a furrowed brow, inspecting me. "Why do I have a feeling you're just saying that because you think that's what I want to hear?"

I bite my lip, not looking at her.

She growls in frustration. "What am I going to do with you?"

I shrug, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"You really need to work on that." She says, getting serious, and I can see the concern in her eyes.

"On what?"

"Being confident and knowing your worth."

I bite my lip, unable to look at her. There's too much truth in her words.

"Bells," she forces me to meet her gaze. "I only bring it up because I love you."

"I know." I assure her. "It's just easier said than done."

See you next time.