“Throwing. You throw pots.”
“That. At least one piece from, what, a hunk of clay, through the stages to complete.”
“Oh, I like that.”
“Facebook, Instagram?”
Anna made a noncommittal sound, shrugged.
“I’ll fix it. Do you have business cards?”
“No.”
“I’ll fix it. Brochures. Small, colorful trifolds, I think, you can leave at local businesses—and there’s your husband’s hotel. That’s a built-in right there. Here’s what I’m going to do.
“I’m going to do a mood board, a template—an inactive website, the shell of one. No charge.”
“Listen, your time’s—”
“Consider it a very sincere thanks for helping stock my kitchen. You’ll look that over, and if you like what you see, we’ll go from there. If you don’t, no obligation.”
“I have a feeling I’ll like it.”
“I’m good at what I do.”
“So am I.” Hands in pockets, Anna studied the computer screen. “And you’re right, it doesn’t show well, at all.”
“Let’s sit down in what I’ve just decided is my consulting area.” After picking up her tablet, she gestured to the leather sofa facing the fire. “First, let me get your contacts so I can send you some options.”
Once they’d settled and Sonya put Anna’s information in her contacts list, she moved to the next phase.
“First, I’m going to suggest a name change for your business.”
“Really?” Obviously dubious, Anna hedged. “I don’t want anything cutesy, you know? I want to keep it simple, so it’s about the art, the pottery.”
“Exactly. Your pieces can be displayed, as art, but what I’ve seen on your website, and here in the manor, you create the usable, art with purpose. Practical Art.”
She brought up her drawing app, and using her stylist, wrote that out giving the first letters in each word a sweep, keeping the rest of the words in clear, concise cursive.
“That’s really good.”
“Just a first pass, but it says what it is, so simply. It says you can have something beautiful you can use. I’ll play with the font, but something like this, in a strong color, has impact.”
“I thought using quiet colors would be more friendly.”
“It can be, but in this case, the pastels don’t say: You’ll use this, it’s beautiful, and it’s going to last. The personality of the artist should come through in the design. You’re not pastel.”
Anna sat back, nodded. “Keep going.”
Sonya spent an hour, asking questions, answering them, toying with a logo, and getting a feel for the needs of her newest client.
“I’ve got enough to get started. I’d print some of these basic ideas for you to think about, but I still have to find a way to get my printer upstairs. There’s a cabinet up there where it can be out of sight.”
“The DVD cabinet, sure. Can I help you with that?”
“Even if you weren’t pregnant, no. It’s a monster.”
“You should give Trey a call.”
“I imagine he has enough to do. I’ll figure it out, and meanwhile work up those options for you. If you like, we’ll move forward.”
“I already like. You had me at Practical Art. I got a lot in exchange for a coffee cake.” She rose. “And wait until the soon-to-be grandmothers get a look at Baby Mine. Now I’m getting out of your way so you can work.”
“I should have something for you in a day or two,” Sonya said walking Anna downstairs.
As they reached the first floor, the music Sonya had turned off when she answered the door started again.
“Well, that’s … weird.” Sonya looked up the stairs. “I must’ve jostled the app or something.”
“Or something. I don’t think I know the song.”
“More weird.” Sonya got Anna’s coat. “It’s one of my mother’s favorites. Apparently Dad had it playing when she was in labor with me. ‘All for Love’—an oldie.”
“They must like you.” Anna spoke casually as she put on her coat.
“They?”
“The lost brides, and the rest. They picked a song that has personal meaning for you.”
“You don’t actually believe in ghosts.”
Anna just pulled on her hat and smiled. “Ask me again after you’ve lived here for a week. Thanks for taking me on. I realize now I need you more than I thought I did. Talk soon.”