The Beautiful Things Shoppe by Philip William Stover

Author:Philip William Stover
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2020-12-01T13:48:09+00:00

Danny

“I’ll meet you at the cashier. I have to run to the restroom,” I say and scurry away as fast as I can, avoiding Prescott and the catalog of questions he must have.

“Danny, wait what...” I hear him say as I break out in a near jog.

Once I’m safe inside a private bathroom the reality of what I just did hits me. I just bought a two-thousand-dollar mug. Two thousand dollars. On a mug. Correction, a tankard.

I look at myself in the mirror and grab the edges of the sink. I turn on the taps so I can splash some water on my face, hoping that it will bring me to my senses. Where is Cher when I need her to give me a good slap and tell me to snap out of it?

I’ve completely destroyed any pretense that I’m not interested in Prescott. It was impulsive and reckless but what could I do? I looked over at him during the auction. Seeing him place that first bid was thrilling, a major turn-on. His eyes were dancing like children bouncing off the walls the night before Christmas. I’ve seen him intense and even passionate about things but that childlike joy was a first. I couldn’t stop watching him.

But then it looked like he wasn’t going to get the high bid and everything just sort of collapsed inside him. I know how much he wanted to complete that set. I could see the happiness evaporate from his eyes and it did something inside me. I felt his disappointment. I felt it with him. Then I just wanted to stop him from feeling anything bad. I wanted to protect him, but I also wanted to see that joy return to his eyes.

My arm was like, “Hey, buddy, I have an idea,” and without any approval from my brain, just rose up and stuck my paddle in the air.

I bought a two-thousand-dollar mug. I promised myself I would support myself only from the shop’s income, but this means I’ll need to transfer money from my trust fund to stay in business. It won’t make a dent in the account but it does damage my credibility in being able to support myself on my own financially. Then there’s the big stink bomb that I have led, or rather misled Prescott to believe that I am, shall I say, not the child of a gabillionaire. How does someone who is working tirelessly to make the store a success just drop 2K on a hunk of metal? How am I going to explain this to him?

Maybe I should take this opportunity to come clean. But then I think about how nice he’s been today and I don’t want to ruin that. He thinks I’m just a regular hardworking guy and I am except for the fact that I’m also not.

I splash my face with water one more time, hoping it will give me an epiphany about how to either explain what I’ve done or just avoid talking about it altogether.

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