The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

On a look of delight, he snapped his fingers. “I knew that name. Small wonder. Eva’s four, and she loves that book. I bought a second copy for Grandma and Pop’s house. I can’t count how many times we’ve read it to her. Though at this point, she reads it to us. She loves the pictures, especially the one of Jessie jumping in the ball pit. If I had a copy with me, I’d have you sign it for her.”

“I’ll see you get one, signed by me and the author.”

“That would rank me as best Pop ever.” He took out a card. “Wait until I tell my wife. Are you and Sonya working together at Visual Art?”

“Sonya and I have been friends since college.”

“And currently we’re housemates,” Sonya added. “Cleo’s helping me out today.”

“I don’t have to tell you I wish you the best of luck, but I’ll tell you anyway. And here come the rest. Knock our socks off.”

She knew some of the fifteen who took their seats at the table fromher previous work for Ryder, and others by reputation and research for her presentation.

Windon Ryder served as CFO, Lowell Ryder as VP of marketing. And Miranda Ryder, head of the table, as, Sonya knew, head of everything.

She had three generations of Ryders in the room to impress, and twelve others who’d weigh in.

She was ready.

“Good afternoon. I’m Sonya MacTavish of Visual Art, and this is Cleo Fabares, who’ll assist me today. I want to thank you for this opportunity to—”

“I understood you were a one-woman operation,” Miranda interrupted. “Have you expanded your company?”

“I haven’t, no.” Sonya met the steel-gray eyes directly. “Ms. Fabares is a friend and today a volunteer.”

“Before you begin, you understand By Design, a company you once worked for, has already presented.”

“I do, yes. And no doubt, as By Design is an exceptional and creative organization, their presentation met those standards. I believe mine will as well.”

“Why did you leave their employ? Laine Cohen and Matt Berry have, as you said yourself, built an exceptional and creative organization.”

“And I owe Laine and Matt a great deal. They were wonderful to work for. The decision to leave By Design and build my own business was neither easy nor impulsive, but was the right decision for me. Only more so as I relocated to Maine.”

“As a one-woman operation?”

“Yes, which I could never have done without the foundation I was given at By Design. In your packets, as requested, I have samples of work I’ve done since starting Visual Art. I’ve found freelancing both challenging and fulfilling, and I appreciate the opportunity to present my vision for Ryder Sports, a business rooted, as I am, in family and community.”

She glanced at Cleo, who cued up the slide show, and began.

She stayed in the moment, though afterward, all the moments blurred. She fielded questions—those tech questions did come up—and when it was done, forgot her answers.

What she remembered, and always would, was Burt coming out into the hallway to take her hand again, and whispering in her ear:

“Socks knocked off.”

Sonya didn’t speak until the elevator doors shut.

“Was she as tough as I think? Miranda Ryder?”

“Tougher.” Cleo blew out a breath, rolled her eyes. “Scary tough. I liked her. I sort of want to be her in thirty or forty years. Now let me say this, not as your friend, not as your temporary assistant. Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“You. Were. Awesome!”

“I can’t remember it.” Because they felt cold, she rubbed her hands together. “It’s like a big blur now. Maybe later I’ll remember.”

“I was watching, looking at faces when I could. They liked it, Son. They really did.”