Bella knew what she had drawn. These symbols seemed legitimate but were not as precise as those used by the Winchester family and didn’t have any psychic energy infused in them, so they wouldn’t have any real effect.
While setting up the store, Bella also contacted suppliers.
The Quileute tribe from Forks helped significantly, providing a plethora of handcrafted items, including wood carvings, totems, masks, animal hides, and various ritualistic wooden bowls, plates, and tables. The assortment included numerous exotic items that city dwellers would find fascinating.
“Perfect, I’ll take them all!” Bella said, delighted.
The Native American elder on the other end of the phone didn’t want to deceive an old friend’s daughter and subtly hinted, “These items might not be as effective as you expect.”
Bella was unfazed. “That’s okay, I want the ones that don’t work. Just don’t sell me anything that does work!”
The elder was puzzled by city people. Seeing Bella’s determination, he stopped trying to dissuade her after a couple of attempts.
In a clearance sale-like fashion, young men from the Quileute tribe drove trucks filled with wooden and ceramic items to San Francisco. The elder also connected her with two other Native American tribes, sending an array of feathered headdresses, stone spears, and slingshots to her.
Bella quickly devised a plan. The store’s first floor would be for business, and the second floor could serve as storage.
The store’s name was long: Weyland’s Magical Artifacts and Special Items Store!
Why not name it after Bella, Charlie, or Natasha by combining letters from their names? Bella had made an agreement with the previous owner when purchasing the shop.
The seller lowered the price from $90,000 to $85,000, and Bella agreed to keep the original store name, merely changing its purpose.
When Bella asked Chris about the story behind the name, he sighed repeatedly. Peter Weyland was the previous owner’s youngest son, a very bright child who, unfortunately, died in Mumbai before he turned ten. The old owner named the store after him to commemorate his son. It wasn’t named Peter because there were just too many people named Peter.
Bella had no attachment to the store’s name. Keeping the name saved her $5,000, a good deal for her, and the name Weyland had no connection to Bella, Charlie, or Natasha, preventing people from easily associating it with her.
With a store and inventory in place, Bella started preparing for the grand opening.
She began to regret her impulsiveness. Renting would have been better than buying the store. It was affordable, but the location was off the beaten path. After doing the math, she realized she had spent over $100,000, including the store and other expenses. How long would it take to recoup the cost by selling knockoff items?
Regardless, Weyland’s Magical Artifacts and Special Items Store officially opened.
After surveying the magical items market in half of San Francisco, Bella decided on her flagship product: lucky rabbit feet!
People in the West were crazy about these, and luck was something intangible. Whether it worked or not, it didn’t matter because it couldn’t be proven.
Her suppliers, the Native American tribes, had no use for these items. Seeing Bella’s demand, they sold everything to her in bulk. Whether these were real rabbit feet or the left hind leg of a rabbit shot in a graveyard, such details didn’t matter.
“How’s business? Made a hundred dollars yet?” Natasha teased her busy sister over the phone.
Looking at the $112.50 in her drawer, Bella felt a pang of sadness. Was her entrepreneurial venture a failure?
Making a hundred dollars in three days, it would take years to recoup her $100,000 investment. She couldn’t afford to take it easy; she had to work continuously without breaks.
Feeling disheartened, she still put on a brave face. “Business is booming! I’m so busy I can’t keep up. Soon, I’ll open branches in Silicon Valley and Los Angeles!”
Natasha responded with a dismissive “Haha,” then hung up.
Bella was worried. How could she cut her losses?
Without a good solution, she opted for a simple approach: wait. When property prices rose, she could sell the store.
Maybe then she’d make back her investment with interest.
Realizing she wouldn’t lose everything, her anxiety eased a bit.
She posted a hiring notice outside the store. She needed to return to school; that was where she belonged. Bella didn’t want to waste time in the store, preferring to hire someone to run it and be a hands-off owner.
Within a day of posting the notice, an applicant arrived.
“Mr. Max, here’s the situation. I need you to work 22 days a month, staying in the store for 12 hours a day. It might seem long, but it’s very quiet here. You won’t need to exert much physical or mental effort. I don’t need you to sell anything; just stay here, collect money, and say ‘come again’ to customers. It’s much easier than working in a fast-food place.”
Bella pitched the job, emphasizing how relaxed and quiet it was, hinting that Max could do his own thing during work hours. There was even a small TV in the shop, and though it was a 9-inch black-and-white model, it was good enough for watching games.
Max, a young man a few years older than Bella with curly hair and a small mustache, looked uneasy. He held a helmet and a skateboard but didn’t even have a car, indicating his financial situation wasn’t great.
The spooky store and Bella’s beauty created a stark contrast, making the young man hesitant to look at her as if she might turn into a monster.
“Um, how much does it pay?” he asked, a question Bella had been avoiding.
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