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“Just let me send this link. You’re so talented. You got your father’s artist genes.”
“I wish I could paint like he could.”
“You paint beautifully when you want to, but that’s not your passion. This is. And it’s wonderful. There, Sylvia’s going to love it—and your clients are going to get a big order. Now, let’s have some soup and talk about your plans for your new company.”
“I’m not sure a one-woman operation qualifies as a company.”
“It absolutely does. And, not that I’m advocating revenge, but you know what they say about it?”
“What do they say about it?”
“The best revenge?” Winter lifted her eyebrows. “Success. And you’re going to rock it.”
“I’m sure as hell going to try. But before I get in too deep, I’m taking a long weekend—a long spa weekend.”
“Now, that’s just exactly what you need.”
“I’m taking my mom, my best friend, and her mom, if she can make it, with me.”
“Oh now, Sonya, you can’t afford that. Especially now.”
“I’m not shopping in Paris, am I? I didn’t shell out more thousands for a splashy, bougie wedding I didn’t even want. I sold that damn wedding dress for sixty percent of what you paid for it. And Cleo managed to get almost eight thousand back on some of the deposits.”
“She’s a clever girl.”
“So I’m taking my mom, her mom, and the clever girl for a spa weekend. It’s a personal indulgence, and I need it. You’re not allowed to say no.”
“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.” Cleo shifted 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 centered Visual 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.”