He patted her hand. “Don’t worry. We have time.”
Because he wasn’t going to hear a damn word about money. His subtle warning glare should tell her that.
“Will your wife need a purse or two? Any jewelry or cosmetics?” the woman asked.
“Yes. If you’ll bring the purses with the outfits to the dressing room so she can see how everything looks together, I’d appreciate that. Also, we’re going to need this block of dressing rooms to ourselves. My wife is very private, and I respect her modesty.”
“Of course.” The woman bowed her pale head deferentially. “I’ll call some other associates and we’ll be happy to bring you everything you requested.”
“Excellent.” He grabbed Gia’s hand. “We’ll wait for you inside.”
The moment the woman hustled away, no doubt adding up her potential commission, Jason led his shocked bride to the fitting rooms against the far wall.
As soon as they walked into the partitioned area and saw that they were alone, she stopped and gaped at him. “Are you crazy? I don’t need all that. I certainly can’t affor—”
“Stop. Right. There.” He glowered. “I asked you to indulge me and you agreed.”
“I thought you wanted me to look at something interesting.”
He shrugged. “Consider me spoiling you the most fascinating subject ever.”
With a roll of her eyes, she sighed. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you don’t need to buy me anything.”
Jason studied her with a frown. She would spend every day and night until their anniversary with him for a healthy divorce settlement, but wouldn’t accept his gifts during their marriage? “I didn’t need a new Porsche last month, but it made me happy. Not everything is about necessity.”
“Have you ever heard the words ‘frugal’ or ‘economical?’”
“I have. They only apply when I wish them to. Don’t worry about money, Gia. I have nine zeroes in my bank total. I can handle a day of shopping.”
“I won’t wear any of this when I go back to work.”
Her argument was somewhere between tiring and insulting. “So I should not wish to buy things for my wife for the express purpose of seeing her look good or smiling?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then explain. If I had to guess, you think that if I spend money on your clothing, I’ll demand something from you in return.”
“It feels a lot like you’re trying to buy me, the way your father did your mother.”
So she wanted his money without strings? That made sense to the cynic in him, but every other part of him protested that Gia wasn’t mercenary.
Jason snorted. Either he was getting soft or his wife had played him well.
“Not at all. Let me put it to you this way: Would your mother ever object to your father if he wanted to do something nice for her?”
Gia paused, obviously trying to think of some way—any way—she could say yes to that and mean it. Finally, she gave a little huff. “No.”
“Because if your father told your mother they could afford something, she would just accept that as fact.”
Her long sigh told Jason he’d hit a bull’s-eye. “Yes.”
“Can you give me the same courtesy?”
“My father would never buy her all the things you’re suggesting,” she argued.
“He likes to make her happy, right?”
“Yes.”