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“Pris?”
“Yeah, Pop. What’s up?”
“Are you busy?”
She should be busy. She had two dozen orders to correct. Number of orders complete—zip.
“Always, but I’ve got time for you.”
He smiled and tucked a yellow envelope under his arm before dragging her extra chair over next to her. “The mail came.”
“So I see. New samples?”
“No. This is from Vance.”
Her stomach pitched. “Oh.”
He handed her the envelope. It was addressed to her and the store. She ripped the top off and slid out a smartphone onto her blotter. Two index cards followed and fanned out onto her keyboard.
She flipped over the first one. Vance’s black, block type handwriting filled the white card. “It’s the upgrades we need to do so he can load the program.” She’d been expecting them. Windows XP wasn’t good for much anymore.
The second card was more personal. “He’d like a meeting next week to load the software. But he enclosed a phone with our new app on it as a preview.” A sticky note was on the other side.
Miss you, G.
Love,
V
She swallowed and tucked the card into her desk. God, she missed him, too. Every night for the last week she stared at her phone. She’d ripped his head off for doing something lovely and thoughtful for her. But at the same time, he’d taken over once again.
And now he had everything she could ever want, and she couldn’t reach for it. She couldn’t disappoint her father. The store had been in the family for three generations.
And this generation might be the last if she didn’t find a way to make peace with what she truly wanted. She hated that Vance made her face it. Hated that he was right.
Most of all, she hated that she missed him so damn much.
“Is that the whole program?”
She smiled at her father. “No, this is the mobile app that we can use for orders.”
“So, say Justin Farris needs to do a reorder of our tier two diamond solitaires?”
“He could make the order through our new website interface, or he could download the app and do it that way.”
“Huh. That’s pretty amazing.”
She turned the phone over and another small sticky note was stuck to the back.
“Password is the day we met,” her father said, reading over her shoulder.
Presley hunched her shoulders and tapped the month and day. The phone came to life. There was nothing else on the screen except a small icon. Their W in a bright purple.
She tapped on it and it grew, taking up the entire screen. Options for their biography, website, and staff came up then bounced down to the bottom of the page and turned into hyperlinks. Then an easy-to-use menu came up. They could either order supplies or wholesale items.
It was simple, easy to read, and loaded fast. They both played with it for a few minutes. Her father navigated around it beautifully. He grinned at her then his eyes widened.
She reached for her mouse to turn off the slideshow but her father stopped her.
