again to the jewelry counter and she turned away. Covertly he glanced up from time to time to see if the pen moved over the paper, but it was held poised while Rachel's back remained stiff, her head dropped forward.
It struck Verda then who belonged to the voice on the phone, and the vacuum stopped moving, though the brushes still whirred against the carpet. She glanced up sharply at Tommy Lee Gentry, then at Rachel. But Tommy Lee was flicking through the earrings, and Rachel wasn't paying him the least attention.
Rachel wasn't paying him the least attention?
Since when did Rachel ignore a customer? But Verda turned back to her task, deciding to stretch it out as long as possible, to see what Rachel would do.
After some minutes he signaled and she rose to help him. Verda turned off the machine, fussed around putting away things left in the fitting room, and listened.
"Those little red ones," he was saying. 129
"These?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"These are for pierced ears. Does she have pierced ears?"
"Well, now, I'm not sure I ever noticed," he drawled.
"Most women do these days."
"If she doesn't, could I bring them back?"
"I'm sorry, pierced aren't returnable. State law."
"Oh. Well, it's only nine dollars. If hers aren't pierced, maybe she'll have a friend."
Rachel was incensed, and having a hard time hiding it. How dare he come in here and buy baubles for his tootsies! The shop had grown incredibly quiet. Rachel was aware of it, and of Verda coiling up the vacuum cord and of Tommy Lee studying her own trembling hands as they removed the red button earrings from the case and began scraping the gummed label from the back of the card with a perfect long peach-painted nail.
"Do you want them wrapped?" Rachel asked, braving a glance at his face to throw Verda off
balance. See how unaffected I am by him? But the moment she raised her eyes, she realized her mistake. Once their gazes met she felt heated and uncomfortable and angry all over again.
"You do that here?"
"Yes. It's a customer service. No charge." The words were difficult for Rachel to say, given the fact that she wanted to sling the red earrings in his face. It angered her further to realize that she couldn't help wondering who they were for. But then, according to the gossips, he had innumerable female friends to whom he might offer such a gift. Rachel's fingers were still shaking as she placed the jewelry in a small apple-green box, wrapped it in green paper, and placed a pink lace bow on the cover.
Tommy Lee had wandered to the armoire and stood studying a midnight-blue slip displayed there with matching bikini panties and a scanty brassiere. He reached out to finger the lace edging at the hem of the slip, and as he moved, his face became visible in the mirror. He looked up, caught Rachel studying him, and had the audacity to smile! She waggled the box in the air.
Immediately he turned. "All wrapped?"
"Yes. That'll be nine dollars and 131 sixty-three cents."
"Do you take Visa?"
"Yes, Visa will be fine."
The two of them moved toward the end of the glass case, where an enormous brass cash register reared its curlicued head. Tommy Lee extracted a card from his wallet and she dropped her eyes; there was something masculinely attractive about a man pushing back his jacket to reach for a wallet. Throughout the exchanging of the card and while she ran it through the imprinter and he signed it, Rachel searched her mind for one of the countless inanities she usually exchanged with a customer at a time like this, but came up with none. She watched his dark hand scrawl a signature while the expensive diamond ring flashed, and again she wondered who the woman was, and damned him for coming here and putting her through this.
"There you go." Smiling, he handed her the pen.
Verda pushed the vacuum cleaner off into the back room just then, and the moment she disappeared through the doorway, Tommy Lee bent across the counter
It struck Verda then who belonged to the voice on the phone, and the vacuum stopped moving, though the brushes still whirred against the carpet. She glanced up sharply at Tommy Lee Gentry, then at Rachel. But Tommy Lee was flicking through the earrings, and Rachel wasn't paying him the least attention.
Rachel wasn't paying him the least attention?
Since when did Rachel ignore a customer? But Verda turned back to her task, deciding to stretch it out as long as possible, to see what Rachel would do.
After some minutes he signaled and she rose to help him. Verda turned off the machine, fussed around putting away things left in the fitting room, and listened.
"Those little red ones," he was saying. 129
"These?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"These are for pierced ears. Does she have pierced ears?"
"Well, now, I'm not sure I ever noticed," he drawled.
"Most women do these days."
"If she doesn't, could I bring them back?"
"I'm sorry, pierced aren't returnable. State law."
"Oh. Well, it's only nine dollars. If hers aren't pierced, maybe she'll have a friend."
Rachel was incensed, and having a hard time hiding it. How dare he come in here and buy baubles for his tootsies! The shop had grown incredibly quiet. Rachel was aware of it, and of Verda coiling up the vacuum cord and of Tommy Lee studying her own trembling hands as they removed the red button earrings from the case and began scraping the gummed label from the back of the card with a perfect long peach-painted nail.
"Do you want them wrapped?" Rachel asked, braving a glance at his face to throw Verda off
balance. See how unaffected I am by him? But the moment she raised her eyes, she realized her mistake. Once their gazes met she felt heated and uncomfortable and angry all over again.
"You do that here?"
"Yes. It's a customer service. No charge." The words were difficult for Rachel to say, given the fact that she wanted to sling the red earrings in his face. It angered her further to realize that she couldn't help wondering who they were for. But then, according to the gossips, he had innumerable female friends to whom he might offer such a gift. Rachel's fingers were still shaking as she placed the jewelry in a small apple-green box, wrapped it in green paper, and placed a pink lace bow on the cover.
Tommy Lee had wandered to the armoire and stood studying a midnight-blue slip displayed there with matching bikini panties and a scanty brassiere. He reached out to finger the lace edging at the hem of the slip, and as he moved, his face became visible in the mirror. He looked up, caught Rachel studying him, and had the audacity to smile! She waggled the box in the air.
Immediately he turned. "All wrapped?"
"Yes. That'll be nine dollars and 131 sixty-three cents."
"Do you take Visa?"
"Yes, Visa will be fine."
The two of them moved toward the end of the glass case, where an enormous brass cash register reared its curlicued head. Tommy Lee extracted a card from his wallet and she dropped her eyes; there was something masculinely attractive about a man pushing back his jacket to reach for a wallet. Throughout the exchanging of the card and while she ran it through the imprinter and he signed it, Rachel searched her mind for one of the countless inanities she usually exchanged with a customer at a time like this, but came up with none. She watched his dark hand scrawl a signature while the expensive diamond ring flashed, and again she wondered who the woman was, and damned him for coming here and putting her through this.
"There you go." Smiling, he handed her the pen.
Verda pushed the vacuum cleaner off into the back room just then, and the moment she disappeared through the doorway, Tommy Lee bent across the counter
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