"Ugh. I positively hate window shoppers," Eliza groaned while leaning over the counter top. "They never buy anything."

"Hence the name, window shoppers, dearest," Carla giggled softly at her friend who helped her run The Dress Emporium.

They had been working together for about five years now. The shop was doing great, although Eliza would say it could be better. She wishes we could get every person who walks by our store to purchase something.

"Oh, I can't bear to look at them anymore," Eliza folded her arms on the counter and rested her face on them. "Please, Carla. Make them go away."

Carla giggled at her friend's impatience. She turned to look at the window shoppers, and smiled. The woman seemed so enthralled by the dress, as though it gave her life. The dress was beautiful, Carla would admit. After all, she made it herself. But, it wasn't the woman's admiration of the dress that caught her attention.

"Eliza," Carla muttered. "Look at the man. Look how he reacts."

Eliza looked up for a brief moment, rolled her eyes and said, "He's not even looking at the dress anymore. So now we only have one window shopper. Yippie."

"Liza!" Carla couldn't help her irritation with her business partner and friend. She slapped the girl's arms and said, "Look at him! Look at his face! His eyes! What do you think of that?"

Eliza looked again, soon no longer looking agitated. "Well, look at that. He's happy."

"Yes, and not with the dress," I sighed, resting my chin on my hand. "But with her. Like he would buy her the world."

He did look as though he'd buy her the world. He grabbed the woman's hand, smiled at her, kissed her cheek and lead her inside our store.

"Excuse me, but we simply must have this dress," he grinned.

I grinned, too.