Monday afternoon, I was taking a repair order for an acoustic guitar when a large group of people came into the store. Caesar’s Flame was in the house, along with some groupies. I finished writing up the order and gave the customer a receipt for pickup then called Evan on the phone.
He picked up on the first ring. “Hey,” he said, sounding distracted.
“Caesar’s Flame is here. I need help on the floor. Can you—”
He hung up before I finished. I glanced to the right a minute later to see Evan bounce into the aisles from the Music Room. He’d taken the time to fix his strawberry blond hair and…Was that eyeliner? I rolled my eyes as he sauntered by me with feigned nonchalance to engage our famous customers, and Chuck Whistler in particular.
I went back to itemizing the orders I’d received on
