Page 36 of Dream Weaver

Liselle was about my age, but taller, more groomed, and supermodel-thin. Her blue eyes were so luminous, they bordered on purple. Colored contacts, I figured. Her beige-on-beige outfit would have fit in at a British country manor.

“I was told to ask for you. I have a special project I haven’t been able to find anyone to help me with.” She lowered her voice and winked. “I find that men don’t really listen.”

Amen,I nearly said, warming to her.

I set down my hammer. “What kind of project?”

She drew a round shape in the air at about the height of her knees. “A brazier, so I can enjoy a fire on my patio.”

A patio as big as a tennis court, I’d bet, with million-dollar views of Sedona.

I tugged on the straps of my overalls as she described what she had in mind. It didn’t sound complicated, but I wasn’t fooled. Women like this always wanted — no,expected— special treatment. I’d once labored for weeks on a gate for one of those fancy new ranches — the kind with more bathrooms than livestock. The client wanted the outline of her beloved Yorkie worked into the middle of the gate, complete with the ridiculous little topknot on its furry head. It was some of my best work, but the client was disappointed that I’d chosen Pookie’s bad side.

I’d barely refrained from suggesting what side that was and where the client could shove it.

So, I doubled my estimate for the time required to whip out a brazier for little Miss Vanderbilt.

“I would need about a week to do it, but I’m booked solid through the end of the month.”

“Oh, that’s disappointing,” she sighed.

Yeah, well. So was life sometimes.

She stood there, lips pursed, waiting.

I waited too.

“I’d hoped to have it done this week…” Her eyes locked on mine.

Hope was good. Hope was comforting. But it wouldn’t get her a brazier any faster.

I scratched an itch on my ear. No, the side of my head.

The coals in the forge crackled in warning. I frowned. Warning of what?

“Walt says you’re the best…” Liselle went on.

Ha. Walt passed that title from employee to employee any way he found convenient.

“—and frankly, I love the idea of a female blacksmith. It can’t be easy.” She gave me a knowing look.

I had the feeling she knew more about boardrooms than metal shops, but hey. I could relate…sort of.

“Surely there’s a way to squeeze it in…” she said, then went full steam ahead as if I’d agreed. “I’ll send you some sketches. You know, to give you time to mull over the concept.”

A concept, like a real artist. Cool.

Walt grinned at me from behind her in a way that said,Good job, kid.

I couldn’t help glowing a little. This customer wanted me — me, specifically — to work on her project. Rich had also insisted on me. My boss was happy with me.

I took a deep breath. What a long way I’d come fromdesperate runawayto today.

On the other hand, yikes. That itch wasinmy head now.

Surely there’s a way to squeeze it in…

Walt says you’re the best…

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