Nick’s father must have meddled with the news stories about my shops demise, because it sounded like I’d closed my store. Neither man has spoken to the other since their face off, despite his mother’s constant urging. If we don’t get a really good client really soon—someone who will refer us to more socialites—we are going to have problems. Nick and I both see it coming.
As I’m touching up an ad piece that I plan to hang in the front window, the front door chimes. I hear Amy’s voice give the normal introduction and a man replies. Amy tells him to have a seat and then comes into the back room to tell us.
She steps through the curtain that divides the two rooms, a silly smile on her face and her hands gripped in front of her. “There’s a Mr. Ferro here asking about pictures for his wedding. He said Sky is his fiancée’s favorite photographer, and they want the biggest package we have. Better get out there, you two!”
THE END