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“Then I won’t. You’d better text Cleo so she can ask Melly.”
“Starting a group text right now, then I’m going to try to book us into the Ripe Plum.”
“The resort on the coast? Wow. When my girl decides to indulge, she indulges.”
“Damn right. I’ve been so unhappy, Mom. It feels really good not to be. And this soup smells amazing.”
Buoyed by the visit, the soup, the encouragement—and the fact that while weekends were booked, she’d reserved three weekday nights at the Ripe Plum—Sonya dropped into bed just after nine, and slept for twelve hours.
She woke with a new sense of purpose, and a new plan.
First step, contact the sisters at their workshop.
Twenty minutes later, she jumped up, pumped her fists in the air.
Not only were they willing to keep their account with her, but they’d given her two contacts for potential clients.
She’d worked with the sisters long enough to know their style. They’d make the contacts straight off. So she’d wait an hour—and that gave her time to work on a logo, and the design for business cards, her website, social media, and everything else.
Midafternoon, she answered the knock on her door.
“I come bearing pumpkin-spice muffins and macchiatos.” Cleoshifted the takeout bag, angled her head. “And look at you. I haven’t seen that look on your face in weeks. A lot of weeks.”
“What look?”
“Happy. Blow-up-my-skirt happy. And here I was afraid you’d be mired in the what-the-hell-have-I-done stage.”
“I know just what I’ve done.” She pulled Cleo inside. “I’ve done got me two clients, and the strong possibility of a third.”
“Already?”
“Already. I think I have my logo—which I need to generate contracts for said clients, to finish designing my website, and all the rest. I want your honest and true opinion. Wait there.”
When Sonya ran back to her office, Cleo took the coffee and muffins out of the bag.
“Okay. Here’s the ta-da—honest and true, Cleo. I want it to sing.”
She flipped open the sketchbook.
She’d drawn a thick circle formed by curved petals in bold colors—red, blue, yellow, green—layered in a way that made them pop in two dimensions. Above the circle, in flowing script, she’d centeredVisual Art. And in the circle,by Sonya.
“Don’t tell me what I want to hear.”
“I’m sorry, I have to. It’s perfect. I love it. The circle—a strong symbol, and with strong colors. The petals give it dimension and interest. Using a font with a flow, going with a curve, brings it together. It’s got balance, interest, a smart use of white space.”
“I didn’t want hard edges, or too slick and modern, but not fussy or too traditional. I didn’t want to go cute or girlie, but I liked the hint of female with the petals.”
“Direct hit. Holy crap, Son, you’re off and running.”
“I’m going to be redesigning a website for a writer—first book coming out in November. The one she’s got is absolute crap, nothing holy about it. And I’m nudging her to have me redo her social media look. Which is also crap.
“I hope her book isn’t. She’s sending me an advance copy.”
“You’ll lie if it sucks.”
“You came over to give me a pep talk.”
“Yeah, and that’s unnecessary. But we have coffee and muffins. Can you take a break?”
