Fortune Found Read Online Free PDF Page A

am. I’ve just come up with a name—Fortune Fine Arts and Crafts—because I’m in the process of having a website set up so I can do more selling over the internet. But really, I’m just a middleman—I hunt down stuff to sell, usually buy it outright myself and then resell it at a profit. Or sometimes I find a gallery or shop that will let me place a piece there and if it sells, the money gets split three ways—between whoever produced it, whoever’s shop or gallery it was sold from, and me.”
    â€œThat would make you an agent or an artist’s representative, then, wouldn’t it?”
    â€œAgain, sounds a lot fancier than I am. What I am is an old-fashioned horse trader. Except that I don’t deal in horses, I deal in brass sculptures of horses and kachina dolls and hand-sewn moccasins and tribal headdresses and authentic totem poles.”
    â€œHmm. I never considered that there would be a market for tribal headdresses or totem poles.”
    â€œThey aren’t my best sellers, but they’re fairly popular for decorating hunting and fishing lodges and hotels that want a rustic appeal.”
    â€œAnd I guess you can’t call yourself a totem pole seller,” she teased him a little.
    â€œThat’s why we just say that I’m in sales,” he concluded, pleasing her with the fact that he’d grasped her gentle gibe.
    â€œIs the goal of the new website to reduce the amount of travel you have to do?” she asked.
    â€œI guess potentially it could, but the traveling doesn’t bother me. I don’t have anything tying me down, and I like getting around, seeing the country. The life of a traveling salesman suits me.”
    Their painting met at the center of the wall behind the washer and drier then, and while Flint stepped back to survey their handiwork, Jessie used one final application of her roller to blend that meeting line seamlessly.
    And with that, she sat back and looked around, too.
    â€œThat didn’t take long,” she admitted, thinking that the time had actually seemed to fly.
    â€œApparently we work well together,” Flint said just as Adam burst through the door with an excited, “Hi, Fwint!”
    â€œHi, Adam,” Flint greeted the three-year-old with a mirroring of Adam’s enthusiasm. “Where’ve you been today?”
    â€œHe’ppin my grampa wis our new junger gym. We digged howes for plantin’ the powes so it don’t fauw over.”
    â€œThey dug holes to cement the poles into the ground so the jungle gym doesn’t fall over,” Jessie translated. “Sometimes the L’s come out and sometimes they just don’t.” Then to her son, she said, “What are you doing here now?”
    Before Adam answered that Jessie heard the voice of her oldest daughter, Ella, calling for Adam.
    â€œWe’re in the laundry room, El,” Jessie called back.
    The seven-year-old bounded in, much the way Adam had except rather than joyfully having discovered Flint, the much more serious Ella scowled at her brother. “Gramma said you could only come with me if you held my hand, and you didn’t!”
    â€œI had to find Fwint,” Adam answered as if his sister should have known that.
    â€œElla, you remember Flint, don’t you? Coop’s brother?” Jessie interjected, both to remind her daughter of her manners and to avoid a fight between her oldest and youngest.
    â€œI remember,” was all Ella said to Flint because she was still more intent on wrangling with her brother. And to Adam she goaded, “F l int. His name is F l int.”
    â€œOkay, okay,” Jessie said before war broke out. “What’s up, El?”
    â€œGramma says it’s almost dinnertime and she needs a pan she can’t find to cook. Can you come home and show her where it is?”
    â€œI think I can probably do that. We’re finished here, aren’t