The Brightest Star - Fern Michaels Page 0,53

was putting a dent in her personal funds, but she didn’t care. If luck remained on her side, she would have a boatload of money to add to her accounts once she finished her biography of Mr. Giampalo. She was getting super-excited when she heard the little bell jingle, letting her know she had a customer.

“Duty calls,” she said as she plastered a big smile on her face. She stepped out of the office into the main aisle of the store. What she saw caused her to stop dead in her tracks.

Chapter 14

It took a couple of seconds for her to find her voice. “May I help you?” she asked, suddenly realizing what she must look like. She had on a faded pair of jeans with her old Uggs, which were stained from years of use and definitely should have been replaced years ago. Knowing how cold it would be this morning when she’d dressed, she wore an undershirt, then added a worn but comfortable chambray shirt; on top of that, she wore a thick, red wool sweater. Her braid hadn’t lasted throughout the night, and she’d done nothing more than run a brush through her long blond hair. She’d even forgone her usual black mascara, leaving her blond lashes bare. All this came to mind as she stared at her customer, who was so well put together, she wanted to cringe just thinking about what she must look like to him.

He was tall, probably at least six-three, and over two hundred pounds. And it was all muscle. His thighs strained against dark denim, and the cream-colored sweater he wore was stretched to the max by his broad shoulders. Dusty-blond hair, way too long for her taste, touched his shoulders, but he’d tucked the sides behind his ears. He had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Bluer than Madison’s, bluer than her own.

Good grief! He was a real-live version of Thor, the Marvel character played by Chris Hemsworth. She’d lost her ability to speak, so she just stood there, dumbfounded by this . . . hunk. What was someone like him doing in her store?

“The door was open,” he said, breaking the silence, his voice deep and sexy.

“Uh, yes, sorry. I was, uh, working. In the office.” She raked her hand through her messy hair. “What can I help you with?” In her wildest imagination, she’d never seen such a stud. She couldn’t help it. There was no other word in her broad vocabulary to describe this man.

“Well, I’m not really sure. I was looking for . . . something unusual. A gift. For a friend. Their birthday. It is Christmas.”

All hope gone, but of what she had no idea, other than a sick, sort of sinking feeling, but she’d wished for customers, and here he was. “Okay, well, did you have something particular in mind? A unique decoration? A sweatshirt? They are hand-painted, one of a kind.”

She watched him watch her. Butterflies danced in her midsection, and she felt dizzy. Before she did or said something she’d regret, she turned away and walked to the back of the store, where she had a display of Christmas music boxes. She felt his presence before turning to face him. “These are exclusive to Razzle Dazzle. We’re the only store in North Carolina that sells these, so the chance of your friend having received one as a gift is slim to none. Of course, if you’re new to the area, and your friend has friends who might shop here, then, well . . .” Good grief! What in the name of Pete is wrong with me? She was sounding like a thirteen-year-old who’s just come face-to-face with her first crush. She felt heat rise to her cheeks.

He leaned in to examine each music box. “Exquisite.” He actually looked at the price tag located on the bottom. “Exquisite price, too,” he added.

Another gush of heat rose to her cheeks. “Yes, but worth every penny,” she managed to squeak out.

“Actually, I was thinking they’re worth much more than you’re selling them for.”

Surprised, she was at a loss for words. Lauren couldn’t recall any customer she’d had in the past three years telling her their prices weren’t high enough.

“Personally, I would double the price,” he added as he ran a large, well-manicured hand across the globe of one of the more expensive music boxes. “I’ll take all of them. How quick can you have them wrapped?”

“What? You want all of them?” Her heart sank even