When she heard the news, Meyer found the closest room, walked inside and sobbed.

"It used to be us in it together," she said.

How two stores with Hawai'i-made goods came to open two weeks apart and just 100 yards away from each other along Merchant Street is a complicated journey of good intentions and failed ideas. It is also an experience that has led Meyer to consider the touchy question of whether being raised in a culture that values gentle generosity above commercial competitiveness illustrates the difficulties that some Hawaiians have in trying to succeed in business.

Meyer — a well known Hawaiian civic, artistic and cultural leader — launched Native Books and Beautiful Things in 1995 to provide an outlet for Hawai'i artists. Three years later, she kept the debt but gave the business to each of the original 17 other partners and sold them the licensing of the name for $1. It was a gesture that seemed in keeping with her Hawaiian upbringing, Meyer said, and was intended to turn the partnership into a democracy.

But with the partners' new store, Meyer now feels betrayed. And scared for the future of her own business.

It seemed to Meyer that her idea to transform a group of Hawaiian artists into a democratically run operation had gone from altruism to disillusionment. And instead of having one downtown store succeed, Meyer believes both businesses will suffer.

Instead of financial success, Meyer's original Native Books in Kalihi and her new chain of Na Mea Hawai'i stores — in Lahaina, at the Hilton Hawaiian Village and in the new spot inside the Judd Building at Merchant and Fort streets — are staying afloat on $350,000 in loans.

She had hoped that holiday sales at her downtown Na Mea Hawai'i store would generate enough income to give her some financial breathing room.

With two similar stores selling many similar items, Meyer said, "I'm toast."

Four of the 10 partners from Native Books and Beautiful Things — Meyer remains a voting partner — stood in the middle of their new store at the corner of Merchant and Bishop streets recently and said they were surprised that Meyer felt hurt.

They agreed that Meyer had started the hui. They agreed that she wanted it to be turned over to group control. They agreed that it had been Meyer's idea to open a store closer to the heart of downtown to take advantage of the holiday season. And they agreed that the majority of the group rejected her idea originally. They said it didn't make sense at the time.

"Maile had the concept to pull us all together," said Grant Kagimoto, one of the partners and the owner of Cane Haul Road, which sells gift cards, silk-screened T-shirts, aprons and dish towels at the Merchant Street store. "We didn't think at all that we'd be hurting Maile. The fact that she sees it as a negative comes as a complete surprise."

Up until a few weeks before the store's opening, said partner Andrea Weymouth-Fujie, the group thought Meyer and her books would be part of the latest Native Books and Hawaiian Things.

"When Maile announced to the partnership that she was opening a store downtown," Weymouth-Fujie said, "we weren't aware she was doing it until she was fairly far into the process."

Kaulana Park, program manager for the Office of Hawaiian Affairs' Native Hawaiian Revolving Loan Fund, lent Meyer $75,000 and knows all of the Native Books and Beautiful Things partners. Park finds the situation "kind of sad," he said. "It's an unfortunate situation."

Meyer tried to create a business utopia, Park said, but he believes there were hidden resentments toward her.

Some of the partners told Park they believe Meyer is only interested in profits. "That's not the Maile I know," he said. "She's very passionate about helping people. She really wants to help them."

Those good feelings, he said, can get buried sometimes beneath Meyer's enthusiasm.

"Maile is a high achiever, a very high achiever," Park said. "If she has an idea, she's going to do it no matter what. She's very driven. Those people don't necessarily want to be led that way."

Meyer, 45, grew up the middle of seven children in Kailua, surrounded by five aunts and uncles who owned separate houses within walking distance of each other. "When the dinner bell rang," Meyer said, "whoever was in our space stayed for dinner. I remember having to give up my seat all of the time to make room for somebody."

Meyer attended St. Anthony's school, Punahou and Stanford University. She got a master's degree in business administration from UCLA, with a specialty in not-for-profit arts management. Meyer pursued her MBA, she said, to give herself credibility when she talked about trying to marry her desire to share any business success with the Western idea of a successful business.

"It's a strange way to arm yourself," Meyer said. "But it's protection from people who say, 'Oh, look at that cute little Hawaiian girl who wants to give her business."

Back in Hawai'i in 1985, Meyer ended up with a job marketing the 1,200 book titles listed by the Bishop Museum Press until the operation died in 1989.

Meyer then decided to go into business on her own. Mostly, she just wanted to expose people to Hawaiian literature and culture.

"I said, 'I just want to get good books into people's hands,'" Meyer said. "I don't know if it was noble or stupid."

She packed 25 books into a box, flew to UH-Hilo with her 6-month-old baby and set up a table outside a forum by the Hawaiian Leadership Development Program.

They were the kind of books that Meyer thought the teachers and social workers at the forum probably already owned — dictionaries and primer's on culture and language. Instead, Meyer came home that day with 100 orders for nearly 500 books.

Native Books Inc. was born.

She took out a $10,000 home equity loan and set up a mail order business out of a house in Kalihi. On the weekends, Meyer lugged boxes of books to every plant, craft, school and cultural fair she could find and brought in $600 to $800 in sales each weekend.

In October 1994 she opened a warehouse on School Street in Kalihi in a 2,000-square-foot building that at various times had been home to a poi factory, a pornographic theater and a Korean church.

By 1995, the big-box retailers had cut Meyer's craft-fair sales in half. So she took out a $50,000 signature loan for Native Books and also invited 17 Hawai'i artists to form Native Books and Beautiful Things.

Meyer took on $25,000 in debt to start up the store and paid for the insurance and overhead herself. The store — a mixture of books, clothing and art — opened on Merchant Street in October 1995 with a simple agreement. The artists paid rent and collected 100 percent of whatever they sold.

"We were operating with a high level of trust," Meyer said.

In 1996, the hui — known as Native Books and Beautiful Things LLC — started a small shop inside the Bishop Museum and opened a store at Ward Warehouse in 1998. But the Bishop Museum operation closed a year later, followed by the original Merchant Street site.

Meyer grew frustrated that the business wasn't growing and in 2000 brought together 60 Hawai'i artists under a consignment and invoice agreement to form Na Mea Hawai'i. It means, "Things of this place." The Na Mea stores also opened and closed with mixed success.

To get them started, Meyer often turned to the original Native Books site in Kalihi and cannibalized it for fixtures, books, bookshelves, plants, art, chairs, lighting and money. This year, she took out a $30,000 short-term loan to keep the Kalihi store going and borrowed another $50,000 to start the downtown Na Mea Hawai'i.

By opening on Oct. 21, Meyer hoped to generate enough sales over the holidays to make a bigger dent in her debts.

She busily walked across the concrete floor of her original Native Books, bare feet peeking from below a light blue mu'umu'u, and considered the future of a business she's been coddling for 12 years and has provided an outlet for Hawai'i artists.

Deciding on the next direction, Meyer said, means choosing between her cultural values and her MBA training.

She thought of hiring a manager, but now believes she needs a well-financed business partner who can take care of the debt.

"I need a person who understands systems and can help support and protect me from myself," she said.

Then in another moment, the Hawaiian side of Meyer won out.

"My natural instinct," she said, "is to just give it away."