“Okay.” Her smile returned, although not quite as bright as before.
All of a sudden, I had a goal to make her radiate a smile. “How about after shopping, I take us all to lunch and we can talk then.”
“Sounds good.”
After feeding Mo, we loaded into my SUV and drove to Beverly Hills. Harper directed me to a parking space in front of a froo froo looking shop.
“I bought Brandie some really cute things here,” Harper said.
“Looks expensive.”
“Are you going broke?”
I arched a brow. “No.”
“Come on then.”
With a sigh, I exited the car, grabbing Mo’s stroller and snapping his car seat into it. Inside the shop, Harper already had a half dozen clothing items before I’d made it through the door.
“Isn’t this adorable?” She held up a sailor outfit.
I frowned. “No. My son won’t be made to look like a fool.”
She pursed her lips at me. “Fine. How about this?”
“The jeans and flannel shirt are okay, but not the cowboy boots or hat. Christ, he isn’t walking. He doesn’t need boots.” I could feel my good will and patience waning.
“They’re not real boots.”
I reached over to a long-sleeved shirt hanging on a rack. “Jesus. Is this price for one shirt?”
The woman behind the counter narrowed her eyes at me. I half expected her to ask me to leave. Afterall, the rule was, if you had to look at the price, you couldn’t afford the ritzy shops in Beverly Hills.
“What’s wrong? It’s not like you don’t have the money.”
“Part of the reason I have money is that I don’t waste it on overpriced clothes.”
The woman behind the counter flinched.
“Don’t mind him,” Harper said to her. “These are good quality clothes.”
“Harper, he eats, spits up, poops and pees, and sleeps. He doesn’t need good quality clothes. I know this must be hard for you since you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth and anything less than luxury must be crap to you, but why would I spend this amount on clothes he’ll wear once, maybe twice, before he outgrows them?”
Harper jerked back. “I suppose you’re right.” She turned away, making me feel like the asshole I was being.
“Hey.” I reached out and took her arm, turning her back to me. “I’m sorry. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” I wondered what she’d do if I told her it was because she haunted my dreams and I spent my morning shower pissed off that I had to jerk off because of it.
“Still not sleeping enough?”
I shrugged. “It’s getting better. Look. Maybe we could just get some basics.” I picked up a t-shirt with a boat on it. “Not sailor, but close.”
She laughed, but there wasn’t a lot of humor in it. “Deal.”
I bought a couple of shirts and the jeans and flannel shirt, then we headed out to a mall.
“Have you ever been here?” I asked Harper as we made our way to the baby section of the department store. Harper struck me as the type of woman that had never shopped anywhere that wasn’t a designer boutique.
She glared at me, and I knew whatever truce she’d been constructing this morning was gone. Perhaps that was what I wanted. Bastion used to tell me that I sabotaged good things in my life because I’d rather keep company with the devil I knew than risk the unknown. It never made sense because so much of my work, while plotted and planned, had a large element of the unknown. That’s what made it exciting.