Chapter 7
Ephram handled the gallery well on his first night. I checked on him several times, but he didn’t appear to need my help. I knew that’s how it would be. He’s a smart man who knows what he’s doing when it comes to art and selling it. Which he actually did—convincing a couple who were just browsing that they’d regret it if they didn’t buy a set of prints which had caught their eye. For the first time the gallery had ever been open in the evening, that bode well for the future.
I came down twenty minutes after closing to find him straightening up after, he told me, closing out the register for the night.
“Now we celebrate?” he asked with a gleam in his eye as we left the gallery and he locked the front door.
“The fact that you survived unscathed? Sure, why not. What did you have
