The eat-late-and-miss-the-rush shoppers had gone in search of lunch, while the eat-at-noon crowd hadn’t yet returned to shopping. Tracy had gone home to walk Bozo, a Harlequin Great Dane rescue dog, and change clothes. The morning sales spree had brightened all our moods. Fresca roved the shop, picking up after our less tidy customers. “People,” she muttered as she plucked a napkin out of the wine rack. “Were they raised in a barn?” “Top of the cooler.” I pointed to a stray paper coffee cup. We were just filling our plates with leftover salad and reheated rigatoni Bolognese when the door chimed. I strode out to the sales floor, ready to greet our afternoon clientele with a smile. But this visitor wasn’t here to shop. “Hello, Kim.” Navy blazer and pants today, with a butterscotch silk T-shirt that matched her low-heeled ankle boots. She cleaned up good.
