The Perfect Groom. Ruth Scofield
“My winter schedule may be different from the heavier seasons, but it’s just as busy. In fact—” his glance touched Ivy with a spark of humor “—I’ve just joined a very active church where I expect to give quite a lot of my free time.”
Which church? An instant suspicion tickled Ivy’s spine. Was he talking about her church? Had Aunt Arletta done it again?
Aunt Arletta wasn’t above a top-drawer selling job when it came to campaigning for Grace Community Church, and true enough, they carried several very active programs to service the community as well as three worship services on Sunday and several Bible studies and prayer meetings during the week. But she might just tie a knot in Aunt Arletta’s panty hose if her aunt had been urging Noah to attend on her account.
“Ah, yes, soup kitchens and urchins, hmm?” Barbara said. “Well, perhaps another time. I have to run. Give me a call, Ms. York, when you have time to find that framer’s number, will you?”
“Would you like me to call the framer for you?” Ivy responded.
“Sure, why not? Just let me know.”
“I will. Thanks for coming in, Miss Reeves.”
Ivy turned back to Noah. He shrugged, as though to suggest he had nothing to say about the encounter, and grinned. His dark eyes glinted with friendly humor.
“Now, about your merchandise,” she said in a firm voice. “What kind of a price are you looking for?”
They wrapped up the business end of the transaction, then before Ivy could wonder whether he’d try to extend his contact with her or attempt anything close to a personal conversation, Noah said, “Nice doing business with you, Ivy. I’ll leave through the store, if you don’t mind. I can look around.”
“Sure, help yourself.” Leading the way, Ivy strolled back into the showroom.
Ivy turned her attention to a customer choosing wallpaper and matching drapes, and she became engrossed in color schemes and styles. Long moments later, a trill of laughter and a deep chuckle intruded upon her concentration.
Glancing toward the sound, she spotted Noah on a ladder removing one of her finest black walnut mantels from the wall display. Sherri waited at the ladder’s base, her eyes alight with pleasure as she gazed up at Noah as though she were Juliet doing a reverse balcony scene with Romeo.
“Do you want to take this with you or have it delivered?” he asked the older woman waiting beside Sherri. Mrs. Gilliam, Ivy noted. A regular customer, she’d looked at the mantelpiece more than once but usually declared it too expensive.
“Oh, um, I have my van,” the woman answered. “I’ll take it now, if you’ll carry it out for me.”
“Be glad to, ma’am.” Noah answered graciously. “Soon as Sherri rings you up, you just pull your van round back and I’ll have this wrapped and ready to load. Do you have someone at home to unload it for you?’
“Ah, yes.” The woman’s salt-and-pepper head nodded, but her voice held an overtone of disappointment, as if hoping Noah might offer to deliver her purchase. “Yes, of course.”
“Oh, thank you, Noah. I could never have taken that down without you,” Sherri gushed before turning to the customer. “Will that be cash or charge, Mrs. Gilliam?”
“Charge, I suppose,” Mrs. Gilliam said, running an appreciative hand along the dark polished wood. Intricately carved with racing horses, the heavy piece was the most expensive mantel in the shop. Ivy’d begun to think she’d never sell it without a drastic price reduction.
But Noah had. Her gaze followed him as he carried the object into the back room. Ivy finished with her own customer before stepping through the storeroom door.
“Got any real packing material back here?” he asked her without looking her way as he searched a corner of the storeroom.
“The heavy-duty wrapping is behind the door over here.”
“Yeah, that’s the stuff.” He pulled the roll of batted paper out and hoisted it with ease onto the one counter Ivy kept clear for the purpose of wrapping large items. Having a person with muscle power about the store had its advantages, she admitted to herself. “Wouldn’t want to expose this thing to a possible scratch. About lost my back teeth when I heard Sherri quote the price.”
“Good work always commands a good price.”
“You know, this thing was so high up no one could see the delicate details,” he said, looking it over carefully. “Even needs a little dusting. I bet you could’ve sold it a lot faster if customers could see it better. Some of your wall could do with a rearrangement.”
“What’s wrong with the wall?” He was right, but she was curious to know why he thought so.
“It’s too random. Looks disorganized.”
She blinked at his pointed reply. Obviously, subtlety wasn’t one of his strong talents.
“That’s because…because I don’t have enough space to show like a gallery,” she said, almost sputtering. Why she even thought she owed him an explanation was beyond her usual good sense. “I put up the work as it comes in.”
Actually, she’d done that only in the last month. Usually she took time to reevaluate and rearrange the wall often.
“Looks like it, too. Might sell better if you group by color ranges. Or artists. You have three Burkes scattered over the wall that would show well together above one of the mantels.”
“Only three? I thought I had two in one place and two in another.”
“I sold one to that Ms. Reeves,” Sherri said. “After she came out from talking to the two of you in the storeroom.”
“Oh.” Ivy glanced at the picture wall. Sure enough, an empty spot showed where the Burke that Barbara had bought once hung. “I’d be glad to rearrange your wall for you, if you’d like,” Noah said. “I have a little time on my hands this week. No charge.”
“I’ll consider it,” she answered. She knew the wall needed work; in truth, she’d been putting it off until Monday night after store hours when she planned to replace some of the art to show holiday wreaths. And with Aunt Arletta ordering things behind her back, and sometimes committing Ivy’s time to help friends decorate with only thanks for compensation, she didn’t need someone else handing out unsolicited advice.
A honk sounded beyond the outside rear door.
“Well, thanks for the help with Mrs. Gilliam’s purchase,” she said with sincerity, even though his critique of her shop’s display area still rankled.
Yet he had been helpful, she reminded herself. She pulled the heavy door wide and struggled to be gracious as well as cooly professional. “It was kind of you. Here, I’ll hold the door open.”
“Glad to help.” Halfway through the door, he paused. His dark eyes studied hers for half a second. “You’ve seen my work at Reeves house. Perhaps you’d consider carrying my card in your recommendation file. After coming to see my place, of course. Wouldn’t expect you to tell your customers about my work unless I meet your standards.”
“Right” That was really why he’d come today, she thought. She wouldn’t admit to a tiny bit of disappointment that he hadn’t come simply to see her again. Hidden agendas reminded her too much of Leon, the last man to whom she’d been engaged. Leon had wanted to control everything she did. He’d even had the nerve to fire her store assistant; that was the beginning of the end for Leon.
It was definitely the end of any remnant of her fantasy of a perfect marriage. Obviously this man had more depth to him than met the eye. But she’d never allow herself to become personally entangled with an overly controlling male again—ever.
“Send me a list of your services and prices and I’ll give the idea some thought,” she finally told Noah.