Meredith Rowan woke to the first rays of morning sun.
She had slept very well the night before and was in an excellent mood. She even drank an extra glass of soy milk that morning.
Shirley Thorne was in an equally good mood. With advice from the richest man in the world, she felt her path forward was clear and bright.
After a quick bite, she eagerly sent Florence Langley to find the people they needed.
"Remember, be discreet, but make sure to leave a few clues behind."
Shirley Thorne felt a pang of guilt. Her instructions sounded just like the impossible demands of a difficult client—like asking for "colorful black."
As a designer, she'd always hated clients who made vague, contradictory requests.
And now, she had become the very kind of client she despised.
'Sigh. People really do grow in unexpected ways.'
Florence Langley, however, showed no sign of being troubled by the request. She simply stood tall and said resolutely, "Don't worry, Madam. I'll get it done!"
