The Walleld Flower by Lorraine Bartlett Page A

her chair away from the desk, sat down, and studied the stern, solid woman before her. In a crisp white blouse, dark wool skirt, heavy support hose, and brown, lace-up sensible shoes, Polly probably would’ve made an excellent librarian—half a century ago. She prided herself on her knowledge of dolls, the arts, and anything to do with the craft and history of sewing, looking down on anyone who wasn’t as savvy. Katie counted herself among that crowd.
    “What can I do for you, Polly?” Katie asked at last, using every ounce of patience she could muster.
    “It’s that
crafter
. She’s stealing my merchandise again!”
    Katie sighed and grabbed a toffee from the jar on her desk. “What’s missing?”
    “Several vintage darning eggs, antique pincushions, antique buttons—”
    Sewing items! Polly could sew.
    Katie glanced at the dress that needed to be shortened—thought about asking Polly for a favor, and then abruptly changed her mind. Polly might ruin the dress out of spite… and then she’d be forced to wear something different at the wedding. Ah, a plan! But Gilda probably loved the dress. Why else had she picked it? Or did she want to make sure that her matron of honor couldn’t take center stage on
her
special day?
    Buttons, buttons,
Katie reminded herself. “Were these buttons on cards or loose?”
    “On cards, of course. They’re handmade and
very
expensive.”
    Katie frowned. “The items you’ve mentioned are all small, things that can easily be concealed in a pocket or purse. It sounds more like a shoplifter to me.”
    “I
know
it’s that Silver woman,” Polly asserted.
    “What’s your proof?”
    Polly straightened in indignation, as though her word alone should sentence poor Edie to years in the slammer. “She’s always hanging around when I come in to straighten my booth.”
    Katie unwrapped her candy. “Well, her booth
is
next to yours.”
    “And I’d like that to change. I’ve been a vendor here ages longer than Edie—”
    “According to Ezra’s records, your booth was assigned only three months before Edie came in.”
    Polly’s eyes bulged. She hadn’t expected to be caught in a lie. “My merchandise is superior quality goods. Hand-crafted bisque and fabric dolls of exquisite quality, not crap from China.”
    “Now, Polly, you know why we had to let crafters into Artisans Alley. It was either that or raise the rent so that nobody made a profit. Or I could have let the business go under. Since those crafters came on board, Artisans Alley has averaged a substantial increase in sales, for the fine-artspieces
and
small craft items. Almost everyone has made more money in the past six months.”
    “I haven’t!”
    “Have you considered lowering your prices or participating in the sales events we’ve held?”
    “I want a new booth location,” Polly demanded.
    Katie forced herself to keep a level voice. “As I’ve explained in the past, there’s a waiting list. Vendors who’ve been here a lot longer want the same thing.”
    “Are they willing to pay extra for the privilege?”
    Katie raised an eyebrow. Giving Polly preferential treatment, even for a fee, would cause an uproar with the rest of the Artisans Alley dealers. It wouldn’t be worth the hassle.
    “I’m sorry, Polly, you’ll just have to be patient. In the meantime, I’ll ask those walking security to pay special attention to your booth.”
    Polly’s face flushed with anger. “It’s not fair. It’s just not fair!”
    “I’m sorry, but that’s all I can do without proof.”
    “You’ve bent over backward to accommodate those new people. You could do a lot more for those of us who’ve been here for the long haul.”
    Katie sat back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m open to suggestions.”
    “Invite someone famous in to give a free talk. Some of the professors from the Rochester Institute of Technology.”
    “That’s a bit beyond our budget—unless they’re willing to do it