Three Years Later
The office at Blakeship Corporation buzzed with the same intensity it always had—phones ringing, keyboards clicking, and the occasional laughter from the breakroom—but something inside Staci Williams felt different. She sat in her corner office, the city skyline painting the backdrop behind her, and read her resignation letter one last time. It was polished and professional, a love letter to the growth she experienced and the courage she now embraced.
After pressing print, she folded the letter, slid it into a crisp envelope, and placed it in her bag. Her stomach fluttered with both fear and excitement.
Later that evening, Staci met her mentor, Cynthia Rhodes, for dinner at Maple & Bloom Café, their favorite spot. Candlelight flickered between them as jazz music played softly in the background.
“You sure about this?” Cynthia asked, slicing into her salmon.
“As sure as I can be without knowing the future,” Staci replied. “But I feel… ready. It’s not just a career move. It’s a life decision.”
Cynthia smiled, sipping her wine. “You’ve got the discipline, the heart, and the vision. Just remember, entrepreneurship tests every part of you. But it also grows you in ways the corporate world never can.”
Staci nodded, holding onto those words like scripture. She would need them in the days ahead.
–
It was a bright Sunday morning when Staci and Tati met up at The Grand Room, a Black-owned café known for its herbal teas and cozy corner booths filled with plants.
“So… you’re really doing this,” Tati said with a wide smile as they sipped on ginger turmeric lattes.
“I am,” Staci beamed. “I want a space where I can merge all of it—my sweets, my love for serenity, everything.”
Tati pulled out her tablet. “You need a name. Something that says what this is about. Something strong, soft, and YOU.”
They brainstormed for an hour, tossing ideas back and forth like jazz riffs. Finally, Tati looked up and said, “Still Rising.”
Staci paused. The name lingered in the air like incense.
“It feels right,” she whispered. “It speaks to the journey. The fact that I’m not done.”
That night, she launched her new VibeHive social media page: Still Rising. Her first post? A photo of her latest caramel chai cookies beside a softly lit meditation altar.
–
“Auntie, what’s your secret ingredient?” her niece Jordan asked over speakerphone.
“Love and lavender,” Staci said with a laugh, piping icing onto her latest cupcake batch. “And a little cinnamon oil if the vibe calls for it.”
Her kitchen had become a studio. Lavender-honey cupcakes cooled on racks, and the scent floated out onto the street.
Later, Staci delivered a small order to a woman named Denise who had discovered her through VibeHive.
“I’ve been in a rough patch,” Denise confessed as she held the box. “But your videos… your voice, your rooms, they calm me. They remind me to breathe.”
Staci blinked back tears. “That means the world to me. Really.”
Back at home, she lit a candle and sat in her meditation room, reflecting. This wasn’t just about treats or designs. It was about healing. Community. Restoration.
–
One morning, Staci opened her DMs to find a cruel message: “Another soft girl selling dreams. Life isn’t that sweet.”
Her chest tightened. The comment wasn’t just rude; it stung. She questioned whether her authenticity was being misunderstood.
That evening, she met Tati at Delight Bites, their favorite taco food truck spot. They sat on a bench, laughing between bites.
“Why do people hate joy?” Staci asked.
Tati wiped her mouth. “Because they forgot how to feel it. Look, not everyone will get you. But the ones who do? They matter. And they need what you’re offering.”
“I want to stay real. I don’t want to become another performative influencer.”
“Then don’t,” Tati said. “Keep showing up, flaws and all. That’s your magic.”
Staci nodded, the weight lifting.
–
Staci signed the lease with trembling hands. The space was perfect—a small storefront with warm light, exposed brick, and a back room that would become her design meeting area.
She brought in a local muralist to paint the wall: a Black woman meditating under a tree, surrounded by golden stars.
Tati helped throw a soft launch party. Close friends gathered, sipping on rose tea and nibbling Staci’s signature matcha shortbread. Candles flickered in decorative holders, and incense swirled like sacred smoke.
As the night wore on, a woman approached Staci. “I work with Bliss Magazine. Would you be open to a feature?”
Staci blinked. “Absolutely.”
–
She met Amir during a consultation for custom meditation benches. He had warm eyes and an easy smile.
“You really design all this by hand?” she asked.
“Every curve,” he said with pride. “Wood tells stories too.”
They met again a week later at Serenity Park. He brought smoothies; she brought incense cones.
“I used to run from quiet,” Amir said. “Now I crave it.”
“Same,” Staci replied. “Stillness has taught me more than any boardroom.”
They sat under a tree, their fingers brushing slightly. The energy between them was soft, unforced, and deeply grounding.
–
Orders were flowing in. She was booked months out. Her VibeHive was flooded with messages from people wanting to decorate their meditation spaces.
In her parents’ kitchen one night, her mother beamed. “You turned a weekend passion into a purpose.”
Her dad grinned. “I follow your page, you know. Even shared your sweet potato bars with my bowling team.”
Staci laughed. “Y’all are too much.”
Then came the news that changed everything.
Tati, with tears in her eyes, handed Staci an envelope.
“What is this?”
“Seed money,” Tati said. “I believe in Still Rising. I want to help you expand. Let’s take this higher.”
Staci hugged her best friend tightly, overwhelmed by gratitude.
She had walked away from the corporate world, unsure of what was ahead. But now? She was creating, connecting, and climbing in ways she never imagined.
And she was just getting started.
Thee Juju Aura 