Chapter 23: Her Name on the Glass

Three weeks later, a man with a diamond-tip scribe knelt at the glass wall on the flagship roof.

The whole Langley Skin staff stood behind a rope to watch.

They had been told it was a surprise.

They had not been told which one.

Nathaniel stood beside me in a dark coat, with his hands in his pockets.

Patricia stood on my other side, in her pearls, holding a thermos of coffee she had brought for the workman.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"That's it."

The glass still said TREVOR LANGLEY across the whole length of the wall, in four-inch letters.

It had been there since the day he opened the store.

A second worker held a bucket and a sponge.

"Ready, Ms. Winslow?" the first one asked.

"Yes."

He set the blade against the first T, and the glass screamed.

I had braced for it.

I had not braced for how good it would sound.

The staff began to cheer when the second R came off.

By the time the Y was gone, they were stamping.

Patricia pressed her lips together and looked at the sky.

"I helped pick that font," she said. "In my defense, I thought it looked distinguished."

"It did."

"It looks better gone."

When the glass was clean, the workman stepped back and handed me a printed card.

I read it, and I handed it back.

"No," I said. "That's not what I want."

His face fell.

"The card says Claire Winslow, Founder," I said. "I didn't found this place. I made one product in it, and I made it well."

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