Page 76 of Fumble Into the End Zone
“Perfect. I’ll grab a few things for Harley after I go shopping for her daddy. I’m headed to Drapery. This should put him in a better mood.”
“Mia, money isn’t required to make a man happy,” she said.
I grinned, thinking back to this morning, and cleared my throat. “He walked into a closed door. This is the bonus,” I said.
Mom broke into a long cackle and it took her twenty minutes to regain her composure.
I gripped the golden handles of Drapery and pulled back the door. An assistant rushed to greet me, offering a drink that I graciously declined. I wandered about the store until I heard my name from behind.
“Mia!”
I turned to find my personal stylist, Franchesca, standing in all her 5’5 glory. As always, her hair was pulled back into a slick pony accompanied by her oversized glasses. We greeted each other with side kisses before locking arms.
“When I saw you come in, I checked the books. Your father’s birthday is next year, and no awards ceremonies were in town,” she said.
Once Franchesca nailed down my father’s size, I called in his order.
“I’m not here for Daddy. I’m here for my . . . my . . . ” I stammered and struggled to say the word.
“Your what?” Franchesca said as she secured my hands and squeezed them.
“Boyfriend,” I pushed myself to say, closing one eye and shrugging.
My body jolted toward the velvet green couches resting midway in the store. Seconds after my ass kissed the plush cushion, she pressed for details.
“New man?”
“Yes,” I said, and relief covered her smooth almond skin.
“I love him already. No offense, but Nathan was an asshole,” she said, and I agreed with a nod.
“Okay, let me get a look at him. And what style are we pursuing?” Franchesca asked as she stood ready to take direction.
I glanced around the store and finalized what I interpreted would be Marcus’s new style.
“Let’s go with urban gentlemen. I want modern but streetwear with a mix of tailored items.”
Franchesca pressed her hands together and smiled back. “I’ve taught you well.”
After I showed her pictures of Marcus and gave her his sizes, she pranced around the store and pulled several pieces. We also ordered a few things to be delivered. When I informed her Nick Lucas had sized him prior, she put in a call. Thankfully, he sewed his tag into Marcus’s trouser pants.
Sitting on the couch, I put an order for dinner and fresh flowers to be delivered after Harley made it home. Looking at the time, I had two hours to get back on the other side of Houston, finish shopping, and pick up a sad butterfly.
“How much money are we spending?” Franchesca asked with furrowed brows.
“Nick said Marcus was cheap and not the regular cheap. The rich people cheap. They have it, but don’t see the point of spending it.”
I unzipped my purse and held up Marcus’s black card. “He isn’t cheap with me. No limit,” I said.
Watching Franchesca place her right hand over her heart and grin caused me to giggle.
“Thank you again,” I told the staff after they loaded my car with shopping bags.
I smiled at the new wardrobe we picked for Marcus. He deserved to stand out in fashion as well as football.
“Mia!”
A masculine voice yelled my name. I turned in search for the source and my eyes locked in on Addison. We haven’t spoken since the batting cages. Addison jogged across the street in my direction.
