I
was so not in the mood to return to the boutique in the evening. My house was flying and my feet were killing me. Why had I let Yocheved talk me into this night appointment? Why did she even offer night appointments?
“It’s the Kohlmans, they’re leaving for France in two days,” she’d explained. “You know who they are, from the tours? Their granddaughter. Engaged to Banda, from the diamonds. Anyway, they begged me for this appointment and I didn’t realize I had a wedding tonight. Please? Can you do it, just this once?”
“Seriously, Yocheved,” I’d protested. “Had this been Rivka Sara Katznelenbokenstein, you’d have nicely called up and canceled. So what if they have money?”
Yocheved had looked at me stonily. “Can you?”
