“I’m glad you noticed,” Christina said pleasantly.

Before Oscar could respond, more customers entered. For a good ten minutes, everything was calm.

Angie Rogers stepped into the store, her three-year-old twins, Spruce and Plum, on either side. “Now you be good and just look,” she told them. “Mommy has to buy something.”

As if hurled from a slingshot, the twins flew away from their mother, each one down a different aisle of the store.

“What can I help you find?” Christina asked. Angie was a very nice woman, but a bit of an airhead.

Before Angie could even respond, Spruce, the angelic-looking boy twin, made a putting sound and raced down the aisle with his hand straight out, knocking ships, dolls, small books, hand-carved whales, and innumerable rubber toys onto the floor.

“Stop that at once!” Oscar yelled.

“Oh, dear, what’s he done now?” Angie asked, drifting to her son.

Spruce looked up at Oscar. Christina held her breath. Spruce must be terrified of the snarling old man.

With a grin, Spruce began jumping up and down, landing on the toys he’d scattered on the floor.

“What is your problem?” Oscar yelled at Angie. His face was a bright red, tending toward purple. “Stop your demon child at once, or I will!”

“Oscar,” Christina said with quiet determination, “please stop. Angie, maybe you’d better come back when your children are with a babysitter.”

Angie was crouched on the floor, picking up toys and tossing them into baskets.

“Mommy,” Plum said, coming around the corner of the counter with a small stuffed puppy in her hands. “Can I have him?”

“Angie,” Christina said, “don’t worry about the mess. It won’t take me long to fix it. And that puppy is eight dollars.”

“Eight dollars?” Angie looked as if she’d been stabbed. “No, Plum, we can’t get that puppy today.” Taking both her children’s hands, she dragged them out of the store, all three of them complaining loudly.

For a moment, the shop was empty. Christina stood watching out the window to see if other shoppers were headed her way and forcing herself to take deep breaths. When she knew she could keep from screaming at him, she turned to face Oscar.

He was picking up the toys Spruce had left. “That child’s a menace.”

Christina smiled. “Oscar, have you never worked in retail before?”

Oscar rose to his full height. “You know very well I’m the CEO of a multimillion-dollar investment firm. I have hundreds of employees.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t answer my question.” She kept her eyes leveled at him. “In a small shop like this, it’s necessary to make the customers feel welcome. You can’t tell them what to do. They’re not your employees.”

“No, they’re thieves and idiots!”