I’ve sold the final sewing machine, and once it’s out of the store, I finally feel as though things are coming together. After discussing with a few people around town who I should hire for the renovation work, it’s unanimous that Hank Greene is the man. He’s got a team which I’m hoping does not include a Greene family member spending time with me all day while I get the place looking like a bookstore.
A knock sounds on the back door. Since I’m expecting Hank Greene, I open the door without looking, wearing my overalls and sneakers, a bandana around my head. Not my finest look by any means. But it’s not Hank Greene, rather his eldest son, Cade.
“Sorry, my dad tried to call you,” he says with a grin.
I dig into the front pocket of my overalls for my phone. s**t, I had it on silent. There
