Читать книгу Meant To Be Mine - Marie Ferrarella, Marie Ferrarella - Страница 12

Chapter Four

“I thought women liked to go shopping,” Eddie said, in response to the less-than-pleased expression on his passenger’s face.

True to his word, he had arrived at eight in the morning. And as per their agreement, he had gone straight to work on the master bath, preparing it for the items he hoped they would wind up purchasing later today. That allowed Tiffany to get back to bed—downstairs in the guest room—temporarily.

Back to sleep, however, was another story. She couldn’t seem to fall asleep because she kept waiting for the noise to begin.

It didn’t. However, the ensuing quiet didn’t allow her to drift off. After a while, Tiffany gave up her futile quest for sleep and got ready for the trip she told herself she didn’t want to make.

They’d left at a few minutes after ten, with her looking less than pleased about the forced field trip she was facing.

“I do like to go shopping,” Tiffany said when the silence became too uncomfortable. “I like to go shopping for clothes, for shoes. I even like to go shopping for electronic gadgets that I don’t need but that capture my attention.”

She shifted slightly in the passenger seat. Her seat belt dug into her hip. “But I have never even once fantasized about going shopping for bathroom faucets, or showerheads, or medicine cabinet mirrors.”

“Then this should be a new experience for you,” he told her cheerfully.

Tiffany caught herself thinking grudgingly that he had a nice smile, but she didn’t exactly appreciate the fact that the smile was at her expense.

“And a quick one, I hope,” she retorted.

“That all depends on you.” For her benefit, Eddie went over the list of various hardware and fixtures needed in her bathroom, concluding with, “You find ones that you like and we’ll be on our way back to your house in no time.”

“What’s the catch?” she asked.

Eddie shook his head as he guided his truck onto the freeway ramp. “No catch.”

“Then why aren’t we on our way to O’Malley’s Hardware, or One Stop Depot?” she asked, naming two local hardware stores in the area that boasted having everything a home owner might need.

Taking advantage of a space, Eddie merged into the middle lane. “Because I’m assuming that you want quality, not shoddy.” After he resumed the acceptable freeway speed, he spared Tiffany a quick look. “At least, that was what I was told by the person who hired me.”

“O’Malley’s Hardware sells shoddy goods?” she questioned.

Tiffany wasn’t all that familiar with the store, only the ads that seemed to pop up every hour on most of the television stations. Even the jingle had begun to infiltrate her brain on occasion.

“They sell ‘make-do’ goods,” he told her. “The stores I’m taking you to carry higher-end items that are made to last.”

“And higher prices,” she guessed.

Eddie nodded. “You get what you pay for,” he told her simply.

She had a feeling that he was conveniently omitting one little fact. “And you get a percentage of all those high-end prices, right?”

She thought she saw him stiffen ever so slightly, as if he’d just taken offense. “I’m charging for my work,” he pointed out. “The price—the actual price—of any fixtures gets passed on to your mother. You’re welcome to take a look at the bills of sale if you want to.”

She wasn’t going to bother beating around the bush. “Then you don’t increase the price of each item?” Tiffany challenged.

He shook his head. “That’s not the way I do it,” Eddie told her, although he doubted she believed him. But he had no intention of trying to convince her. She could believe him or not, that was her prerogative. He had better things to do than to try to prove his trustworthiness.

Tiffany shrugged her shoulders indifferently.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she told him with a deep sigh. Maybe he was actually telling the truth, maybe he wasn’t. She just didn’t want to waste any more time over this than she had to.

* * *

It surprised her how many choices there were of absolutely everything and how many stores were devoted exclusively to just one or two types of items. It was like entering a completely different world.

Although she had initially just wanted to point and go, Tiffany was stunned to find herself deliberating. Specifically, she was having a hard time picking out the kind of bathtub she wanted and exactly what she wanted built into it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tiffany caught a glimpse of her “guide” in this gleaming fixture jungle, smiling to himself as she vacillated between two different models.

“You tricked me, didn’t you?” she accused with only a slight frown.

Eddie spread his hands wide, the picture of total innocence. “I’m just the one who brought you here,” he told her. “You’re the one who’s trying to decide between two kinds of bathtubs.”

“Which I wouldn’t be doing if you hadn’t shown them to me,” Tiffany pointed out, exasperated that she had been put in this position.

Eddie took the blame graciously. “Ah, but think what you would have been missing out on if we hadn’t come here,” he said.

Tiffany’s eyes narrowed as she glared at him. “You can’t miss what you don’t know,” she countered stubbornly.

The expression on his face all but told her that he knew she didn’t believe that, even though, out loud, he made it sound as if he was capitulating. “Whatever you say.”

Tiffany realized they were going to stand here in this little shop until she came to some sort of a decision. With a huff she pointed to the tub that came loaded with top-of-the-line Jacuzzi features.

“That one,” she announced. “I’ll take that one.”

Looking solemn, Eddie nodded. “Good choice.” And then he stopped her dead in her tracks as he asked in a very mild voice, “What color?”

Completely frustrated, Tiffany threw up her hands. “Arrgh!”

“I don’t think it comes in that color,” he replied evenly. “How about light blue?”

For some strange reason, the man was enjoying this. She could have strangled him.

“Fine.” Tiffany bit off the word. “Get the bathtub in light blue.”

The corners of his mouth curved. “See how easy that was?”

Her fingers began itching again. She would have loved to wrap them around his neck. “You’re lucky that I’m not strangling you,” she informed him from between clenched teeth.