“How do I do this?” Cassidy knew she was losing it. Could feel her voice rising and tight. She perched on the impossibly uncomfortable green leather and stainless-steel bar stool in Perrin’s Gallery.
The whole shop was done in retro-1950s diner. Instead of tables in the booths, there were mannequins wearing the latest designs. Instead of those music players, there were racks of clothes and accessories that would go with what the seated mannequins were wearing. Instead of a front counter, there were racks of other clothes. Instead of a diner cashier with gum and candy and pies of towering meringue in a display case, the glass cases held handbags, gloves, belts. Through the swinging doors there was no cook line. Rather there was a haven of shoes, boots, coats, and from the ceiling hung an u
