Page 65 of The Sound of Harmony

She was just going into the bakery when she nearly collided with Brooke.

“Hey there!” Brooke gathered her into a hug. Her friend smelled like apple cider and woodchips and another scent she couldn’t identify, but it was the very essence of autumn. This must be one of her new soaps.

“Are you on your way out?” Emma asked. “Do you want to get coffee?”

“Can’t.” Brooke pointed a thumb across the street at the library. “I’m working ten to six today. I just stopped in for a bagel. But I’m still going furniture shopping with you tomorrow. I took the day off to make it happen.”

“Do you mind if Kendrick goes with us?” Emma asked.

Brooke cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure you can stand being that close to him? Wouldn’t want to catch feelings for a client.”

“He’s…more than a client now.” Emma wanted to say those words out loud, to hear how they sounded in public.

Brooke’s mouth dropped open. She squealed and gripped Emma by the upper arms. “When did this happen?”

“Um, it happened slowly, and then kind of all at once.”

Brooke put a hand on her hip. “That’s how you go broke. That’s not how you start a relationship.”

“I wouldn’t say relationship. I don’t think? I don’t know. I just got out of therapy and my mind is a bit muddled and I’m starving.” Standing this close to the bakery door was killing her. She inhaled butter and sugar and deep-fried deliciousness.

“Go get food,” Brooke said. “I’ll meet him tomorrow. Unless you want to go without me? I don’t want to nose in where I don’t belong.”

“You have to go,” Emma said. “I need to see if you approve of him.”

“Cute,” Brooke said. “And also, you’re not wrong.”

Emma had just finished the last, blissful bite of glazed donut when her phone rang. She wiped her mouth, tossed her napkin, and glanced at the display. Mitch Bell was calling her. She rushed out the bakery door, scrambling to answer.

“Hello, Mitch. How are you?” And why are you calling me?

“I was thinking about you today,” Mitch said. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about you since Saturday.”

“You have?” Emma started walking toward her truck, which was in the city parking deck three blocks away. The wind had kicked up and the sky was dark. Rain coming.

“We made a great team at the estate sale, didn’t we?” Mitch asked.

“I wouldn’t say that. Dave and Dave did most of—”

“They’re not what I’m looking for,” Mitch interrupted.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about us working together.” Before she could object that she didn’t know anything about real estate, he went on. “I need someone to stage houses for me. To get top dollar for a house, it has to look impeccable, and my clients don’t know the first thing about arranging furniture or decorating. Half the time, they make it look worse. I’m out here trying to sell, while they’re trying to show a house with outdated art and old knickknacks.”

“And you—”

“Decluttering always makes a house look better, am I right?”

“Yes, but—”

“What do you say? You box up some of my client’s stuff, move some furniture around, maybe we bring in a few high-end pieces that make a house look more chic. Next thing you know, we’ve bumped up the asking price, along with my commission and the owner’s profit. Win-win. Don’t you want a piece of that?”

“What about—”

“Your fee? Don’t worry about it. Clients will be jumping up and down to pay it. I looked at your website, saw what your rates are. You should be charging more. One and a half at least. Maybe double.”

“That much? But—”