Isolde thanked the Cox cable guy and called her store phone with her cell phone.<br/><br/>"Magikal Arrangements, may I  help you?" she answered her own call, laughing as she did so. The phone was working. Internet was up. Her new website was up and running, thanks to her brilliant webmaster. The store was sparkling. The shelves were in place. Isolde blew her breath up, ruffling her red curls.<br/><br/>She took the boxes out to the dumpster and hoped that business would soon be good enough to warrant hired help.<br/><br/>The boxes safely disposed of, Isolde decided that she needed a break and what better break than browsing at Balliet's. She had money and to burn so shopping was always a delight. She entered the door to the quiet hush of quality, tastefulness and MONEY. Money that was old money, Isolde had a sense for these things. She had known those of bloodline and lineage who had been monied since Charlemagne was king.<br/><br/>Isolde brushed her long slender fingers over the alligator bag, checking the designer name, not the price tag. She actually remembered Charlemagne. A nice man, if a bit domineering, but then one didn't become king by being a doormat. Isolde had enjoyed her well over five hundred years of life as a stunningly beautiful woman. She passed by a mirror and couldn't help making a moue at herself. Yes, a beautiful woman. Being a born witch and an immortal one had its benefits, although, many of her friends were now gone. She frowned, thinking of the Inquistions, the witch trials of Salem, the persecution of women.<br/><br/>She saw two woman, sales staff, she supposed, talking and the older lady, smiling this fake smile her way but her eyes were blazing with impatience at the younger woman. Isolde supposed, the older lady was the store manager and the other was a new employee. Isolde decided she 1. wasn't fond of the other woman and 2 would make sure this young woman took home at least one reallllllly good commission check for today's work.