“He tells me his father, and grandfather, et cetera, et cetera, ran this place quite successfully without the help of some Internet that he can’t even see, and there is no reason he’s going to change his mind.”

“Have you told him you all might need the extra sales to keep the doors open?” Brent asked.

“No, and I haven’t told Mom either, but I suspect she knows since she sees the bank statements every month.” She wasn’t going to tell Brent that she was planning to subsidize the store if needed. That was way too personal.

“So, you’re planning to open on Sundays then?”

“I thought just this weekend, I’d try, but frankly, as you can see, people aren’t beating down the doors. I’m in a bit of a pickle, but I’m sure we’ll make it through another season. We’ve got the unique decorations, and I just don’t . . . well, I do know. Our clientele is local. Our products are made by Carolina’s best artisans. Maybe I should come up with a brochure, something I could mail throughout the state. Place more ads in papers. I don’t think Dad would object to that type of promotion. It’s certainly an idea, but I don’t know if it’s too late to even get that going. It would take several days to get a brochure printed, and, of course, I have to have permission from my artists to do so.” She shook her head. “Seems kind of hopeless when I say it out loud. You have any ideas?” Brent was smart and savvy, plus her dad adored him and had tried to bring them together since as far back as she could remember.

“You want me to talk to him? I’m free this evening. I could stop by.”

If she asked him to do this, would he and her father take this as more than just a friend helping a friend? She’d decided to dip into her own funds, but a few ads placed in some of the state’s local papers wouldn’t hurt.

“I think Dad will be okay with newspaper ads. He’s done it before when he had something unique. I don’t think I have enough time to pull off a brochure, though.”

“You’re avoiding my question, Lauren,” Brent said.

“Oh, well, sure, stop by. It can’t hurt, plus Dad would be thrilled with some male company.”

“What about you?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious, the voice he used when he was in his “are we ever going to get serious?” tone.

This was not the topic she cared to discuss at the moment, but she knew that if she put it off, his feelings would be hurt. What will it take for him to realize that I just don’t feel that way about him? If there were someone she could set him up with, she would, but no one came to mind. She suddenly had an idea. “I always enjoy seeing you, Brent, you know that. We’ve been friends forever.”