Holding the Dream Page 0,33

her shoulder, turned her around. "I thought we'd parted on semi-friendly terms at least."

"We did." She reeled herself in. There was no point in blaming him, though it was more satisfying. "I'm just a little wired. I nearly punched that customer."

Lifting an eyebrow, Byron glanced over Kate's head at the woman currently sighing over a bracelet. "Because?"

"She wanted to see earrings," Kate said between her teeth.

"Good God, what is the world coming to? If you promise not to hit me, I swear I won't even look at a pair of earrings in here. I may never look at a pair anywhere again."

She supposed that deserved at least a smile. "Sorry. It's a long story. So, what does your mother like?"

"Earrings. Sorry." He let out a rumbling chuckle. "Hard to resist. She's an internist with nerves of steel, a wicked temper, and a sentimental streak for anything that has to do with her children. I'm thinking hearts and flowers. Anything that falls into that basic symbolism."

"That's nice." She did smile. She was a sucker for a man who not only loved his mama but understood her. "I don't know the stock very well. It's my first week on the job."

She looked neat as a pin, he mused, in her tidy little gray suit with a Windsor-knotted striped tie. The sensible shoes shouldn't have led him to speculate on her legs. Surprised that that was exactly what he was doing, he cleared his throat.

"How's it going?"

She glanced back at Margo. "I think my coworkers are plotting my demise. Other than that, good enough. Thanks." But when he continued to study her, she shifted. "You did come in for a gift, right - not to check up on me or anything?"

"I can do both."

"I'd rather you - " The door opened again, heralding the entrance of three laughing, chattering women. Kate grabbed Byron's arm in a steely grip. "Okay, I'm with you. You need my undivided attention. I'll give you ten percent off if you take up all my time until they leave."

"A real people person, aren't you, Katherine?"

"I'm a desperate woman. Don't screw with me." She kept her hand firmly on his arm as she steered him to a corner of the shop.

"Your scent's different again," he commented, indulging himself with a sniff close to her hair. "Subtle, yet passionate."

"Something Margo squirted on me when I was distracted," she said absently. This was her new life, she reminded herself. The old was gone, and she was going to make the best of what she had left. "She likes us to push the merchandise. She'd have hung jewelry all over me if I hadn't escaped." From her safe distance, she glanced back and made a face at her partner. "Look, she made me wear this pin."

He glanced down at the simple gold crescent adorning her lapel. "It's very nice." And drew the eye to the soft swell of her breasts. "Simple, classic, subdued."

"Yeah, right. What do pins do but put holes in your clothes? Okay, back to business. It so happens, there's this music box that might make you a hero again."

"Music box." He brought himself back to the business at hand. "Could work."

"I remember it because Margo just picked it up at an estate sale in San Francisco. She'd know the circa this and the design that. I can tell you it's lovely."

She lifted it, a glossy mahogany box large enough for jewelry or love letters. On its domed lid was a painting of a young couple in medieval dress, a unicorn, and a circle of flowers. The lid opened to deep-blue velvet and the charming strains of "Fur Elise."

"There's a problem," he began.

"Why?" Her back went up. "It's beautiful, it's practical, it's romantic."

"Well." He rubbed his chin. "How am I going to take up all your time when you've shown me the perfect gift first thing?"

"Oh." Kate glanced over her shoulder again. The three fresh customers were in the wardrobe room making a lot of female-on-the-hunt noises. Trying not to feel guilty, she looked over at Margo, who was expertly rebagging the tulle. "Want to buy something else? It's never too early to shop for Christmas."

He angled his head. "You've got to learn to gauge your clientele, kid. Here's a man coming in to buy a Mother's Day gift three days before the mark. A gift that he will now have to have shipped overnight to Atlanta. That type doesn't shop for Christmas until sometime after December twenty-first."

"That's very impractical."

"I like