To Love and To Hate

Chapter Two

"Miranda Mae Living Interiors".

The coffee pot beeped indicating that it was done producing its magical brew. I preferred French pressed coffee... but this morning was busier than usual. the beginning of the spring months always proved to be more hectic for my interior design business. Considering it was only really started four years ago, it was doing quite well. I had a decent client base, relying on word of mouth with a occasional spot in the local newspaper. Being the sole owner/operator/employee, I really couldn't handle too many more clients that what I had already. Hiring someone to work with me was wishful thinking and would have to wait until I was sure I could afford another person. 

Standing on the cold kitchen floors dressed in sweatpants, sweatshirt and heavy wool socks, I grabbed my favorite "Worlds Best Mom" coffee mug with the tiny blue and green acrylic handprints. My long auburn hair was twisted up against my head, out of my face. I did not usually adorn myself in jewelry, or much makeup, instead preferring a more natural look. Despite the calendar stating it was nearing the end of March, spring weather had yet to peek out of winters embrace. 

Pouring the lovely brew into my mug, and wrapping cold hands around it to warm them, I answered the woman on the other end of my call. "Yes, can I help you?"

I carried my mug from the little cheery kitchen with its bright yellow walls, to my home office; the third of the three bedrooms. In contrast to the minimalistic decor of the rest of the house, here there was color and vibrancy; of life being lived. There was organized clutter everywhere: color swatches of every possible tone, decorating magazines dogeared and much loved, wallpaper samples, bookshelves filled with binders, a file cabinet with client files and a large desk that took up much of the floor space. The desk was old, a French Louis XV Oak desk, a point of pride. 

"Mrs. Livingston. I am with the Joint Ventures in Business, and I would like to invite you to the annual conference in Buffalo next month, April 24th and 25th. We offer lectures on interior designing, real estate, and running a business in general. It is a great way to network with others in your own field, as well as to make invaluable connections with others." 

Onyx stretched languidly on his bed under the only window, opened his mouth in a huge yawn, his little pink tongue poking out. Eyeing me he walked over to rub against my ankles. I scooted back in my desk chair enough to allow him to access my lap more freely, which he did. 

"Yes. I am aware of your organization, as well as the conference. I am honored to be invited, and would gladly accept." Setting my mug down, I grabbed a pen out of the holder on the desk and wrote the dates on a piece of paper. 

"We were impressed with your write up in Design Estate. I can have all the information you need emailed to you by the end of the day today. The schedule of events for both days, including your room number for your stay, as well. We look forward to having you join us. Please respond to the email as soon as possible, and please make sure to forward your payment for the admission within two weeks time." With that, and goodbyes exchanged, she hung up. 

huh.... The write up in the small magazine, with its even smaller readership, didn't seem like it would have garnered the attentions of anyone of importance. However, it apparently did, and not just anyone, but one of the most prestigious of someones. Making connections with some of the biggest real-estate moguls in the industry, those that are flipping houses and needing them decorated for their big sales, would be an amazing opportunity. I picked up my cooling coffee with one hand, and pet Onyx with the other. Looking at the note with the upcoming dates on it, I smiled. This I could look forward too. I had one job I needed to finish up before I could go. The Slater's en-suite bathroom was being re-decorated. The job was more cumbersome than it might seem, as the couple were incredibly specific on what they wanted, but kept changing their minds on what exactly that was.