Free Run to You by Ginger Rapsus Page A

other, who made the game possible, and who made it the best experience the two partners ever had.

Chapter 9.
    “Now I want this really special. This is for my daughter when she gets married, so I need this by June tenth.”
    Greta’s customer stood over her, dictating every detail she wanted in her bracelet order. That was good. She couldn’t give the customers what the wanted, if they didn’t know what they wanted. But this one was something else.
    “She’s actually getting married June 27 th . But I give a different date, just in case the work is delayed or it isn’t ready on time. My daughter did that with her bridesmaid dresses. She told the seamstress she was getting married two weeks before she…”
    “Let me get this straight. You want fancy engraving. You like elaborate designs, not simple. And what kind of stone?” Greta wrote an outline of the project on a sheet of white paper, drawing a preliminary sketch of the bracelet she would create.
    The customer had a face like a gargoyle. She carried a purse decorated with hearts and symbols, and the legend “peace and love.”
    “Well. My daughter’s birthstone is an amethyst. She was born in February. Her favorite color is purple, anyway. Now my birthday is in November, and my birthstone is topaz. It’s a yellow color, and…”
    I don’t care what month you were born, Greta thought. I am doing this bracelet for your daughter. And if you’d quit yakking so much, I could do my job and you would get your order that much quicker.
    The gargoyle tapped her finger on Greta’s note paper. “More like a swirl, not like this. This looks like a corkscrew pasta. I want it elegant. My daughter is elegant, and her wedding will be too.”
    Greta smothered a laugh.
    After fifteen more minutes of back-and-forth, the gargoyle left a deposit and went on her way. Greta was glad to see her go. Customers always wanted things their way, of course; but this one was so demanding. Greta wondered what she was like with her daughter, planning her wedding.
    The main door opened, and Brandon Taylor strode in.
    “Hey, look who’s here! You missed a fun customer.”
    Brandon looked around the main floor of South Side Precious Metals, the two men buying gold—who were just sitting now—another jeweler who was setting a stone, and Greta, with her scribbled notes in front of her.
    “Busy day?”
    “Not really. I have a few projects to work on. But business has been kind of slow since the holidays.” She didn’t want to mention Mr. Blakely’s meeting, when he hinted at layoffs and bad times.
    “Can you tear yourself away for a few minutes? I need some lunch. And some good company. I’m starved. We had quite a workout this morning.”
    Greta glanced at the clock. “Quarter to twelve! Where did the morning go?” She was not a clock-watcher, but she was wrapped up in her orders and the gargoyle.
    And she’d sent one more text to April, one more attempt to apologize, with no response.
    Mr. Blakely entered the main room and saw Greta’s guest.
    “Brandon Taylor? Is that you? Good to see you. I’m Thomas Blakely, the owner of this joint.” He extended his hand, and Brandon shook it.
    “Nice game against Vancouver. You played them tough.”
    “We like to play that team. It’s a challenge.” Brandon looked around at the main room, the work areas where the engravers, like Greta, sat and did their work. There were three tables set up where the workers appraised the gold and silver that the customers brought in, and a desk in the back where the accountant worked. That desk was cluttered and piled with paperwork, two phones, and a big desktop computer that looked about ten years old.
    “Come in the back conference room,” Mr. Blakely told Brandon. “Treat today. We ordered Italian beef from that restaurant around the corner. And you are more than welcome to join us, Brandon.”
    Greta wasn’t sure if Brandon wanted to stay, or if he liked Italian beef, but he walked ahead of