Her mother reached for the check and placed her glasses back on her nose. She studied it, her eyebrows rising appreciatively at the payment received. “You always do good work, Sarah, and you’re a smart girl. I’m not surprised Ms. Owen included a bit more.”
“It means more than that. When your clients inform you that you’re undercharging and insist on paying you more out of principle, it’s time to take notice. This came from a successful businesswoman, Mama, who also thinks we should raise our prices. Will you think about it?”
Her mother nodded. “Is there something else you’d like to talk to me about? Is everything okay with Graciela?”
“Grace is fine, but now that you mention it, there is something.” Sarah took a breath and decided it was just best to plow forward. “I’d like permission to expand Immaculate Home. I’ve put a business plan together that I’d like you to look over. It’s a little bit of what we’ve talked about before, but essentially, it’s a guaranteed win for us. Our clients have raved about our space reorganization, and if we take it one step further and offer full construction and customization, we can’t go wrong. I promise you, Mama, there’s money to be made. We have enough capital now to take on a designer, and I’ve talked to Roman about handling construction contracts for us. Everything’s in this folder, every last detail. I’ve even scouted some office space at the new building across the street. Mama, I’d like to head up the new sector. I know I can do it.”
Sarah handed the leather bound folder she’d purchased for her proposal to her mother. “Take your time and see what you think.”
Her mother’s eyes were guarded and she nodded very slowly as if in thought. Sarah watched patiently. Finally, after flipping casually through the folder, she offered Sarah a small but reassuring smile. “You’ve put a lot of work into this, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I have because I think it’s the right thing for us. For me.”
“Let’s do it.”
Sarah’s mouth fell open. “What? Just like that? You haven’t even read what I’ve put together. There are projections there and suggested rates and—”
Her mother waved her off and came around the front of the desk and pulled Sarah from her chair into an embrace. “We’ll get to all that. I trust you, mija, and believe you’re capable of great things. If you think this is the way to go, so do I.”
Sarah felt like doing a backflip. More than that. If there were music, she’d have broken it down right there. Her mother pulled back and looked at her. “I’m proud of you. You’re the future of this place. I’m just an old woman who’s happy to have a job.”
Sarah laughed at the silly statement. Her mother had built this company from one client twenty-five years prior. “Thank you, Mama, but I don’t know what any of us would do without you.”
*
It was dusk, Emory’s favorite time of day, and she decided to enjoy it. It had been several weeks since she’d taken a walk along the shoreline, and she chastised herself for not taking more advantage of living on the beach. She kicked her shoes off, leaving them on her back deck, and made the short walk to the water’s edge, savoring the feel of the dry sand on her skin. She rolled up the bottoms of her jeans and made her way a little further out so the tide would just graze the tops of her feet as she walked. It was getting chilly out as the sun made its descent in the sky, and she was grateful for the gray hoodie she’d put on before leaving the house.
It was a quiet evening on her favorite stretch of Mission Beach with just a few joggers and a family trying desperately to save their sand castle from the encroaching tide. She stopped and watched them for a moment. The little boy threw his body in front of the castle, his parents laughing and scrambling to help.
This was a moment for them. A real moment. And she couldn’t help the jealousy that crept in.
She’d never spent a day at the beach with her family, even though they lived so close. Her father was perpetually working, and her mother wasn’t exactly a fan of sand and water in combination. She’d come with her friends when she was older, and perhaps that’s where her love of the ocean had first surfaced.
She made a vow that she would have moments of her own someday.
At least, she hoped she would.
Emory flipped around at her typical halfway point, not too far from the tourist section of Mission Beach, which she tried to avoid. As she walked, she got the distinct impression that she was being followed. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicion, and she cursed silently under her breath, hoping her stalker would get the hint when she didn’t engage. A few minutes more and still no luck. Why didn’t he get the picture? Her walk, which she’d looked forward to, felt intruded upon, and she was growing frustrated. She turned to face him finally. He had dark hair, a seemingly cheerful disposition, and four furry legs. She wasn’t the best judge of breed, but he looked to be some sort of chocolate brown retriever. Bottom line, she’d never been much of a dog person, and today was no exception. “What can I do for you, buddy? I don’t have any food. Time to find someone else to bother.”
Her new friend’s answer was to turn in a half dozen or so frenzied circles.
Okay, even the coldest heart couldn’t resist that display. She knelt in the sand bringing herself eye level with the culprit who sat back on his hind legs and regarded her with kind brown eyes.
“Very impressive. Four stars. But you should really go find your owner now. I don’t feel like playing. Nope.”
The dog looked back at her, offering what could only be described as an actual doggy smile that seemed to say I’m sorry to keep you, but don’t I have the most twinkly eyes? Emory laughed, unable to help herself, and offered the dog a soft pat on the head. Standing, she scanned the beach, looking for someone, anyone who this showman might belong to. There was a couple nearby watching the waves, but that was about it. She pointed to the dog questioningly, but they shook their heads. Damn. She looked around one last time, but the stretch of beach was pretty quiet. Out of options, she looked down at the dog. “Stay,” she commanded, holding her hand up and backing away. He whined softly but seemed to understand her command, remaining glued to his spot as instructed. She glanced back as she walked and there he sat, watching her move farther and farther away. She was off the hook.
She arrived home and climbed the stairs to her deck, satiated from the little bit of exercise the walk had given her. She typed in her code to let herself in just in time to hear her cell phone buzzing from where she’d left it on the counter. Her first inclination was to ignore it. The last hour had been so peaceful.
But the phone continued its incessant notification.
Deciding reluctantly that it could be work related, she grabbed for it just milliseconds before the call would be forwarded to voice mail.
“Emory Owen,” she said.
“She gave me the green light!”
Emory recognized Sarah’s voice and a smile broke across her face.
“You got the go-ahead?” She could hear Sarah laughing on the other end of the phone and her heart swelled instantly. “You’re kidding.” But she knew she wasn’t.
“I’m not. I thought the chances of her saying yes were about as plausible as a moose walking through my kitchen, but it happened. My mother, not the moose, but you know what I mean.”
Emory laughed as Sarah continued talking.
“I’m interviewing designers on Wednesday and meeting with Roman at the construction company today to finalize the details of an agreement. It’s crazy in a really good way.”
“What made her sign off on it all?”
“She said she was proud of me, that I’m capable of doing great things. And I think I am.”