“No.”
Sincerely baffled, she turned to him. “You actually won’t sell it to me because I’m not elegant?”
“That’s right.”
“How do you sell anything?”
“On commission or direct sale. By designing what works with the client.” He eyed her while he took a deep drink. “Rough night.”
Now she jammed her hands in her pockets. “Thanks for noticing. Well, since I’m interrupting and I’m not suitable to buy your stupid cabinet, I’ll leave you alone with your monster saw.”
“I’m taking a break.”
She drank, studying him as he studied her. “You know, given my line of work, really crappy manners such as yours don’t bother me.”
“If you’re thinking of training me like my dog, you should know I’m intractable.”
She only smiled.
“So, if the need-anything-in-town was an excuse, are you hitting on me?”
She smiled again, wandered. She saw a lot of clamps and chisels, a skinnier saw and a stationary drill thingee that looked as scary as the monster saw.
She saw tools she had no names for and empty coffee cans full of nails and screws and other strange things.
What she didn’t see was any semblance of organization.
“Hitting on you? Not yet. And given your behavioral flaws, I’m reconsidering.”
“Fair enough, and to be fair back, you’re not really my type.”
She stopped examining a wonderful wide-armed rocker she coveted to send him a cool stare. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, it’s so. Mostly I lean toward the arty, feminine type. Curvy’s a bonus.”
“Like Sylvia.”
“Yeah.”
“Or Nina Abbott.” She couldn’t help the smug smile when annoyance flicked briefly in his eyes.
“Or” was all he said.
“Thank God we got that cleared up before I gave my squishy, susceptible heart into your hands.”
“Lucky break. But... it’s good to mix things up now and then. Try new things.”
“Great. I’ll let you know when I want to be mixed and tried. Meanwhile, I’ll take my inelegant, art-starved, unfeminine, flat-chested self out of your way.”
“You’re not flat-chested.”
The laugh escaped before she knew it was there. “God, you’re a weird sucker. I’m going while I still have enough crumbs of ego left to sweep into a pile.”
She went to the door, called his dog. When the puppy raced to her, she petted and praised. Then she nudged his butt farther into the room, closed the door with him inside. She flicked one glance at Simon through the glass before striding to her truck, Newman faithfully at her side.
He watched her through the window, the long, athletic stride, the easy grace. She’d looked lost when she came into the shop. Hesitant, uncertain. Tired.
Not anymore, he thought as she hopped into her truck. Now she was brisk, distracted and maybe a little pissed.
Better. Maybe he was one weird sucker, but he’d worry less about her now.
Satisfied, he replaced his earplugs, his goggles, turned on the music. And got back to work.
Eyes bright, Sylvia leaned on the counter of her pretty little shop while Fiona debated earrings. “He did
“He absolutely said that.” Fiona held long pearl drops to one ear, funky, colored glass balls to the other. “I’m not elegant enough for his overrated cabinet. I can be elegant.” She turned. “See? Pearls.”
“Very pretty. But the fused glass ones are really you.”
“Yeah, but I
There was always something new to see in Sylvia’s place. A painting, a scarf, a table, a treasure trove of jewelry. She stopped by a bench with high, curved sides and skimmed her fingers over the wood.
“This is beautiful.”
“It’s one of Simon’s.”
She resisted giving it a flick with her formerly admiring fingers. “Figures. Then he said I wasn’t his type. As if I’d asked. You are.”
“I am?”
“He even used you as an example. Arty and female and built.”
“Really?”
“Sure, go ahead and look smug.”
Deliberately, obviously, Sylvia fluffed at her hair. “It’s hard not to.”
“Well, feel free to follow up,” Fiona added with a dismissive wave.
“It might be interesting, but I think I’ll just stay smug. I’m sure he didn’t mean to insult you.”
“Oh yes he did.”
“Tell you what. I’m closing in ten minutes. We’ll go have dinner and trash him. Better, men in general.”
“That sounds like fun, but I need to get back. I really just came in to bitch. Jesus, Syl, it’s been a crappy couple of days.”
Sylvia skirted the counter to give Fiona a bolstering hug. “Why don’t I come over and fix you some pasta while you take a nice long bath?”
“Honestly, I think I’m going to open a can of soup, then go to bed. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I worry about you, Fee.” She gave Fiona’s tail of hair a little tug. “Why don’t you come stay with me until they catch this maniac?”
“You know I’m fine. Me and the boys. Besides, the maniac’s not interested in me.”
“But—” She broke off when the door opened.
“Hi, Sylvia. Hi, Fiona.”
“Jackie, how are you?” Sylvia smiled at the pretty blonde who ran a local B&B.
“I’m just fine. I meant to get in earlier. I know you close in a few minutes.”
“Don’t worry about that. How’s Harry?”
“Tucked up in bed with a cold—which is one of the reasons I ran out. I swear you’d think he had the plague instead of the sniffles. He’s driving me crazy. I’ve been doing a little early spring cleaning between waiting on him hand and foot and listening to him moan. I decided I need to spruce the place up a little, do some redecorating. Mind if I look around, get some ideas?”
“You go right ahead.”
“I’d better get going. Nice to see you, Jackie.”
“You, too. Oh, Fiona, my boy and his wife just got a puppy. Practice, they say, before they start working on making me a grandmother.” She rolled her eyes.
“That’s nice. What kind did they get?”
“I don’t know. They went to a shelter.” She smiled then. “Brad said they’d save a life, then start thinking about starting one.”
“That’s really nice.”
“They named her Sheba—as in Queen of. He said if I ran into you I should tell you they’re going to sign up for your puppy classes.”
“I’ll look forward to it. I’d better go.”
“I’ll come by tomorrow, give you a hand with your classes,” Sylvia told her. “Oreo could use a little refresher course.”
“I’ll see you then. Bye, Jackie.”
As she walked out she heard Jackie exclaim over the bench, “Oh, Sylvia, this is a wonderful piece.”
