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me a necklace with a pink rhinestone heart. Wasn’t that romantic?”
    Romantic? The jewelry was probably so cheap the fake gold finish would wear off within days. A sparkly trinket had won her mother’s heart over this time. “Yes. It sounds great. Look, I really need to go. Can we talk some other time?”
    “Sure.” A hiss, or maybe a sigh, crackled from the phone. “Have a good day.”
    “Goodbye.” There was nothing good about talking with her mother, even for a few minutes. The day could only get better after plummeting to the low point of the phone conversation.

 
     
     
     
    - Part 2 -
     
     
    Emma’s eyes watered, but she couldn’t wipe the tears away. Unless she wanted a do-it-yourself facial peel. Her hands were covered in industrial strength disinfecting cleanser. The fumes were breathtakingly awful. The exhaust fan hummed like a jet engine, but it didn’t help dissipate the harsh odor. She stripped off the disposable latex gloves and tossed them in the trash can. The bathroom was the worst area to clean in the small apartment. Mopping around the toilet and scrubbing the bathtub tiles in the cramped space was a feat that required the flexibility of a contortionist. The vanity was cluttered with bowls and jars filled with essential toiletries like cotton balls, lip gloss tubes and bath salts. She arranged the containers in a cluster to free up some space on the small counter top. The menial tasks were only partially keeping her from freaking out about her encounter with Brad. Cleaning like a maniac was her usual method of hashing out dilemmas, but it wasn’t working.
    A coughing fit propelled her out of the tiny bathroom. She turned into a flustered teenager with a massive crush whenever she was around Brad, giggling and blushing uncontrollably. One of his lopsided grins spun her out of control and into trouble. The open-ended offer to go out with him was torture. A juicy steak teasing the hungry lioness. After eradicating every speck of dirt in the bathroom, she needed a break from the fumes.
    She rubbed her neck as she walked across the living room area of the studio apartment. Her work bench was a tangled mess. The scarred drafting table was littered with shiny beads, bits of chain, half a dozen pairs of pliers and a pile of necklace prototypes. She was developing a jewelry and hair accessory line to go with her other fairy-inspired artwork. The doors and miniature garden accessories attracted quite a bit of attention in the gallery, but jewelry would appeal to many more customers.
    She gathered loose beads and deposited them back into their tiny plastic containers and small ceramic bowls. The high-pitched trill of her cell phone punctured the silence. She looked around the room, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. The phone was on the end table. She rushed to answer it before the call went to voice mail. It was Daisy, asking if she wanted to watch a movie with her in the main lounge. The work bench could wait. “Sure. I’ll be down in a few minutes. Don’t start the movie before I get there.”
    Emma slipped on a sweater to cover her grubby t-shirt and hurried downstairs. Daisy had claimed space on the most comfortable couch in the television area. She sprawled across all of the cushions like a cat claiming the prime napping area. She sat up and smiled at Emma. “Saved you a spot.”
    “What are we watching?” Emma settled onto the couch. The fluffy cushions molded around her. Often she’d stop into the lounge and find people taking a nap on the coveted piece of furniture.
    “I’m not sure. Heather picked it out. She said it was some kind of mushy romance.” Daisy grabbed a huge, plastic bowl full of popcorn off the TV tray sitting at the end of the couch. Her nose wrinkled. “You smell like bleach. I bet you’ve been scrubbing the grout in your bathroom with a toothbrush again. You should’ve agreed to go out with Brad and saved yourself all of the work. Your studio