You do now, the voice in her head reminded her.

“What the heck,” she said as she booted up the computer, her personal laptop, which was used exclusively for her writing. Right, she thought as she waited for the Internet browser to load. The pharmacy’s owner, Wilbur Davis, was her father’s best friend. He’d given her his Wi-Fi information for when she needed to use the Internet; he too knew how much her father refused to even take a peep into the twenty-first century. After she logged on, she searched the most popular dating sights, skimmed through the requirements, and decided this wasn’t for her, at least not yet. She viewed a few bios that were interesting but not so much that they took her mind off her current situation. She logged off and sighed.

Something had to give, and right now, the only giving “thing” was her. Deciding this was the best move for now, she set the alarm on her phone with a reminder to call Roger Riedel at Sun State Bank and Investments in Florida. She needed to find a good firm locally, or at least in Asheville, but keeping her current financial adviser worked for now. Making that change was just one more decision she continued to put off.

It was 6:00 A.M., and she needed a jolt of caffeine if she was to get through the day. Normally, the store closed in the early afternoon on Saturdays. She’d made the decision to stay open both Saturday and Sunday on the holiday weekend, in spite of her parents’ objections. Sunday, they reminded her, was a day of rest, a time to spend with family, go to church, renew and rejoice. Normally, Lauren agreed with that philosophy, but again, desperate times called for desperate measures, and though she hoped that her parents would remain unaware of the state Razzle Dazzle’s finances were in, she convinced them this was a chance to draw in new customers who might have made the trek to Asheville to visit the grand Biltmore Estate. During the holidays, it was a place to be seen by all—at least that’s what most Carolinians believed.

She smiled, remembering her very first trip. It had seemed so huge, a castle unlike anything she’d imagined, and it was, but now that she knew its history, she put all things Biltmore into perspective. It was a must-see, she would never deny that. But the idea of it generating overflow traffic to Razzle Dazzle was nothing more than a pipe dream. Besides, it was at least a two-hour drive away, and that was during good weather and light traffic. Somehow, she’d made it seem like a real possibility, and her mom and dad acquiesced.

She would open the doors promptly at 7:00, just as planned, so she needed to freshen up and prepare for whatever the day might bring.

She washed her face and brushed her teeth in the small private bathroom in the office. She brushed her long blond hair and took a few minutes to do a fishtail braid. She had a tube of lipstick and some blush in her purse, touched a bit to her lips and pale cheeks, then added a bit of mascara to her light-blond lashes. She always carried a tube of black mascara with her since otherwise it looked as if she did not even have eyelashes. She located a stack of hand-painted sweatshirts created by one of the many local artisans and took one into the office so she’d look pulled together even though she wasn’t. Thankful that she had worn jeans to work, the top was all she needed for a change. This one was red, with a smiling Santa face beautifully hand-painted across the front. She felt that it was a bit young for her, but decided it would most likely be the last of the lot to sell, if it sold at all, so she’d keep it for herself.