Free Embraceable You (Irish Hearts Series) by Mary Tate Engels Page A

quit her job.
    "I’ve got about all the challenges I need right now. I don’t need this one."
    "This is where you get control of your own life," Goldie insisted. "Other jobs – somebody else’s problems. You have no control. With your own place, you’re in charge."
    Siena made a funny face. "This place is full of hokey, touristy merchandise. That’s not my choice."
    "You're right. You’ve got to specialize in something and do it very well. And if you don’t love it, you’re going to bomb, no doubt about it.  But if you love it, you’ll succeed, no matter what."
    "It's so hard to change, Goldie. I had a good job and salary. Maybe I jumped too soon."
    Goldie folded her arms. "Trust your instincts.  Don't look back. Starting new is hard. But you’ve got to make it yours. Then you'll be happy."
    Siena shook her head in frustration. "This is more like starting old – everything there is old.  Like antique-old. The town is old-world traditional, even the people."
    "Blend the two. Something old, something new." Goldie wagged her finger and Siena could see a glimpse of the sassy young woman she once was. "Make it work for you."
    "It just seems hopeless.  The shop is way out of date. My aunt’s biggest product is hand-made, antique Irish lace. It’s beautiful, but not much wanted. And I have piles of it. Definitely not what you’d call a hot item. What sells in this economy when money is so tight?"
    "With all that lace, how about lingerie? A new shop went in just across the street, and it's drawing lot of attention, especially with the window displays."
    Siena swallowed her frustration in another sip of coffee and considered the possibility. Goldie's husband died a few years ago, leaving her a widow at fifty. She closed the shop for about six months and went to visit her sister in Chicago. She came back saying, fifty is the new forty and I can do anything. And she did. 
    Goldie leaned over. "Say, did I tell you that when we got married, David’s family ran a butcher shop here?"
    "A meat shop? Here?" Siena looked at the happy yellow and blue walls, the friendly soda-fountain tables and chairs, the banks of cakes and other yummy pastries. The customers were eager and loyal. And the best part, Goldie always said, they left with a full belly and a smile. "It hasn’t always been a coffee shop? I didn’t know that."
    "Listen, I came from a family of bakers. David came from butchers. I didn’t care so much for the meat. When we got here these walls were green and white, like an old-fashioned hospital. My father-in-law gave me a little showcase there on the side, just to pacify the new bride, I’m sure. I baked my own breads and they sold pretty well. Pretty soon, my bread was selling out every day, especially at holidays. And I did special orders for weddings and such. I sold everything I could make. It's called a market niche, I think. Why, I was forced to hire an assistant to help me keep up with the demands."
    Siena took another bite of zucchini bread. "So they changed products when they saw how successful yours was?"
    "Oh no, dearie. We had many discussions. Sometimes they ranged to red-hot arguments."
    Siena laughed.  "Okay, so it wasn’t easy."
    "I hung on. And when my husband’s parents retired to Florida, we inherited the whole building, rentals and all. I convinced David to make the change from meat to bakery products. We painted and decorated the place like a little French coffee shop that I saw in a magazine once. We never looked back. And you know the best thing, Siena? We were doing what we wanted to do, not what someone else set out for us."   
    "You’re the best, Goldie."
    "The magic is in what gives you the most pleasure. Where’s your heart? There’s nothing as satisfying as running your own business. Unless it’s something to do with your kids."
    "You’ve been in business a long time, haven’t you, Goldie?"
    "My kids grew up here, helping after school. This place sent them to college. Who