Charlotte had paint everywhere. Her hands. Her face. Her clothes. But the kitchen looked brand new, with a pretty butter yellow paint on the walls, with white on the trim, ceiling, and cabinets.
She stood as far back as she could so she could still see the whole room, and pushed out a happy sigh. “Looks good,” she said to herself. It had been five days since her interview at Your Tidal Forever, and she hadn’t heard a single word.
She’d taken the car back to Your Ride the next day, and she’d gotten to work on the house. It was clean from top to bottom, and now the kitchen was done. The red-orange tiles on the floor looked great when they were shined up, and everything gleamed with the addition of fresh paint and a little elbow grease.
A plumber—a real one—was set to come early next week
