“We’re hosting a masquerade fundraiser in my café tomorrow evening, can you come? In costume, of course, isn’t that fun?"
high-end boutique, with outrageous styles designed to snowball the standards of Bayton? Naomi set her jaw and turned onto Lake Boulevard. Oh, no. Not on her watch.
The sight of young college-age kids in T-shirts, threading through traffic holding protest signs and knocking on car windows, made Naomi groan out loud. Another protest? Living too close to a community college not only killed parking spots, but also meant that wannabe social activists blocked traffic on a weekly basis. What were they yelling about now? She tilted her head out of her window to get a better view.
PUT THE NO IN MERINO!
WOOLY SOCKS EQUALS SHEEP ABUSE!
CASHMERE? NOT HERE!
The young woman protesting socks caught her eye and advanced toward her car. Naomi whipped her head back inside, rolling up her window. She didn’t need to deal with college crazies now, on top of mall stress. Because she really needed to figure out a plan to get the mall back on track. Her track, not Laya’s, or some exclusive boutique— wait.
A niggle of an idea tickled her brain, just as Wooly-Socks reached her Camry.
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