Chapter Fifteen
Tiffany
I GOT OFF early on Thursday, and drove to Borgenstein’s Funeral Home, which was only about twenty minutes from the shop. Turning off the radio, I looked down at my clothing, and wondered if my black, lacy camisole was too revealing under the dark linen suit I’d picked out. I hadn’t thought much about it, until I’d caught one of my older male customers leering at my cleavage when I’d trimmed his bangs earlier. I’d never sped through a haircut so fast in my life. Knowing that it was too late to do anything about the outfit, I shrugged it off and pulled my car into the parking lot.
“Great,” I muttered, noticing the reporters surrounding the entrance. Fortunately, the family had also hired security, and the guests were being ushered quickly inside of the building.
