Page 22 of The Side Road
Saige raised an eyebrow. ‘Mild.’
Tash dropped her forehead onto the table. April patted her back.
‘Shit.’ Oliver placed his toasted sandwich on a display of handmade scarves. Picking up the coffee-soaked gloves, he squeezed them over the empty takeaway coffee. Drops of dark liquid trickled into the cup.
April arrived with a cloth. Mia was on hand to help.
Oliver stepped back. ‘I am so sorry.’
‘There’s a no food or drink policy,’ Mia snapped.
‘I didn’t realise…’
‘There’s a sign on the door.’ She raised her voice.
‘I didn’t see?—’
‘It’s right in the middle.’ She glared. It couldn’t be any more obvious.’
Retreating from her, he took another step back. ‘I’ll pay for any damage, of course.’
She flushed, exasperated. He was making her do something she really didn’t want to do. But she nodded. She would ring up the sale; he had given her no option.
Holding two pairs of wet gloves, she side-stepped around the display table. Oliver moved in the same direction, and they were face to face. Seeing their predicament – he was blocking her way – she stepped to the right. Oliver had the same idea, and once again, they faced each other.
‘Oh my god,’ she muttered.
He was just so tall. A ringlet of hair had settled over his forehead. It was all she could do not to brush it out of the way.
‘Don’t move,’ she said, and walked around him.
He followed her to the counter. Opening his wallet, he pulled out his credit card. He was about to hand it over when she informed him the cost would be ninety-nine dollars. His credit card retreated.
‘Each pair,’ she clarified.
‘Ninety-nine dollarseach pair?’
‘They’re hand-knitted in camel wool,’ she explained.
‘Camels have wool?’
‘It’s a luxury fibre.’
‘It’s still a lot of money for something so . . .small.’
Mia knew a good pair of motorbike gloves cost a lot more. Despite this, she felt the need to elaborate. ‘There’salso a cable detail around the cuff that’s difficult to do.’ She showed him the contrasting trim.
He looked underwhelmed.
This wasn’t her fault. He should have read the sign on the door. And who brought an open, full-to-the-brim coffee into a craft store on the busiest day of the week? Live and learn, she thought. He won’t be doing that again.
She held out her hand for the credit card.
Oliver passed it over and she completed the transaction.
After patting the gloves dry, she wrapped them in tissue paper and placed them into a paper bag.
‘When you get home, wash them by hand in lukewarm water with a mild detergent. Then dry them flat in the shade,’ she instructed.
