"How much money do you think we need to save for the lease?"
I inhaled sharply, trying to clog the sudden congestion in my left nostril. "I don't know," I said. "One thousand dollars? Fifteen hundred?"
Edgar nodded. We were standing by his desk, looking down at the mosaic of paperwork that we had yet to sign. The pottery shop was doing well sales-wise, but the payments for the space were just getting ridiculous.