![]() ![]() Nick desperately needs to expand after a newspaper article last summer proclaimed his shop “the best-kept secret in Manhattan.” Now the little place is bursting at the seams as hordes of customers breeze right by the Starbucks across the street in favor of Nick’s-the new trend. Renovating the coffee shop seems like the perfect idea, really. As project manager (and don’t ask me why I have to be the head cheese-Jazz gets better grades), it’s my job to find our project, assign tasks, and oversee every detail to its completion. Sort of like that show The Apprentice? Only there’s just Jazz and me. It’s a joint project for my partner, Jazz, and me. My final semester is about putting what I’ve supposedly learned into practice. But as I look around Nick Pantalone’s newly expanded coffee shop, I know this is my last chance to get anything close to a passing grade in my interior design course. At this point, anyone with a smidge of conscience would just admit to being out of her league and walk away before she could do any actual damage to the place. I stare at Nick Pantalone’s beefy hand but hesitate before taking it. ![]() If this is the chance I’ve been waiting for, then why does it feel like I’m in over my head? I mean, like I’m five feet tall in seven feet of water and haven’t the foggiest idea how to swim. ![]()
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