“Yes. I couldn’t imagine life without my techie gadgets,” she responded.

“I wish my parents thought that way, but I have a feeling things will have to change because it’s the way of the world now.” She took the credit-card slip and gave Henry his copy. “Merry Christmas,” she said. “Let me take this package out to your car, it’s a bit heavy.”

“You’re a sweetie,” Ellen said, “I’ll make sure we tell everyone we know about you and your store. It’s been delightful.”

“Thank you,” Lauren said as she carried the box to the front of the store. Henry held the door open for her. A blast of icy air took her breath away as she stepped outside. She saw a brand-new white Porsche parked in front of the store.

Henry hit the fob unlocking the doors, then opened the passenger door. “Ellen can hold the box,” he said.

“Of course, I can. It’s not like we have anywhere to store it, certainly not in that thing you call a trunk, and in the front, no less.”

Ellen slid into the passenger seat, and Lauren placed the large box on her lap. “Hang on to this, and I’m sure you’ll make it to Asheville without any trouble.”

“Thank you, dear. I will do just that.”

Henry slid into the driver’s seat, cranked the engine, and slowly backed out of the parking spot. They both waved as she stood in front of the store, and she waved back, then hurried inside.

“It’s colder than a frozen fish,” she said to no one, remembering how she used to say this when she was a kid.

In the office, she nuked the water in the kettle, then added an Earl Grey tea bag to her mug. When the water in the kettle came to a boil, Lauren poured the water into the mug. Warming her hands on the mug, she took the tea to her desk, and for the second time, she read through the file Angela had compiled on the founder and CEO of Globalgoods.com. If she were to sign this contract, she would have to have an Internet connection at the store and the house. She would run the idea past her mother, and if she was totally against it—she knew her dad would be; no, worse, she knew for a fact he wouldn’t allow her to do it—she’d have to figure something out because there was no way she could take on such a project without access to the Internet.

Or she could just do it. She was thirty-five years old. She didn’t need their approval. As a matter of respect, she had thought she’d ask, but now she wasn’t sure. This was such a silly issue; she truly didn’t think at this stage in her life that she needed their permission or their approval for something as important as this. So with that thought in mind, and before she had a chance to change her mind, she called the local cable company and arranged for Internet service for both the store and the house. She would have to hook the boxes up herself if she wanted service by tomorrow, but they assured her a five-year-old could do it, so it shouldn’t be a problem. All she had to do was stop at the cable company, sign the required forms, and pick up two boxes, with instructions.