Elly in Bloom. Colleen Oakes

could feel the girl’s body go rigid, as though she thought she would die of lameness.

      They heard the front bell and all looked up, still wrapped around each other. A handsome older black man in his early fifties had entered the shop. He had white hair and slick glasses, and was wearing the heck out of some khaki linen pants and a pink silk shirt.

      “Er, Hello. I’m Anthony. I’m here to apply for the designer position.”

      Elly straightened up, her arms still around Snarky Teenager’s shoulders.

      “Have you ever slapped someone with a broom?” she demanded.

      Anthony looked appalled. “What? Oh, my heavens, no! Why would I do that?”

      “Great,” said Elly, “You’re hired.”