Page 21 of Prince of Storms
“Like what?”
I grinned. “Helping me pick out an amazing home theater setup. I need it all. And you’re going to help. Trust me. It’s going to be fun!”
She looked at the spare tire, then back up the road at our skid marks. Shaking her head, she went around to her door.
“You know, Tor,” she called over the hood. “I’m not sure you and I have the same definitions of the word ‘fun’.”
Chapter Nine
Mia
There was no way I would get a lot of cleaning done that day, which meant our little adventure into town would push back the time it took for me to get the car for my dad. That frustrated me somewhat since it was the primary reason for me even agreeing to come out to Tor’s, but I had to admit, I was having fun spending his money.
I had never bothered looking at the absolute top-of-the-line TVs and sound systems. It was a waste of money even to bother daydreaming. While I made enough money to survive and even save a bit, dropping six thousand dollars on the 4K Ultra HD Super Mega Duper Best-Thing-Ever projector that Tor indicated he wanted wasn’t something I would ever have been able to afford. He, however, bought it with the flick of his hand.
Must be nice,I thought, having that kind of money to spend, where you can drop so much without even a blink of an eye. I wonder, what does he do to have such disposable income?
“You’ll need some of these,” the salesman said, pointing at some cables on a rack. “These gold-plated ones will reduce signal interference the most.”
I frowned as Tor nodded, indicating to add them to the bill. Although I couldn’t be sure he was gouging Tor, I was getting seedy vibes from the salesman. He was in his forties, maybe late thirties, with oily skin and hair grown out into a ponytail to try to cover up his balding.
He glanced at me before speaking to Tor again. “Do you need speakers?”
“Absolutely,” Tor said. “Full setup, right?”
“Right,” I said, shaking my head. He was certainly having fun, and although most of the technical specs the salesman rattled off meant nothing to me, I had to admit, Iwashaving more fun than cleaning. Even if cleaning would bring me closer to the Chevelle.
We looked at several setups before Tor settled on the second most expensive one, claiming he liked the look of the speakers better. I had to agree. They were sleeker overall, with cleaner lines than the supposed “top-end” ones.
“Now, for the best part,” Tor said, grinning at me like we were in some sort of conspiracy together.
I stared blankly at him. “What’s that?”
“The seating!” he said, his face fully splitting open in a grin that made my body float.
I forced my mind to focus on the fact we were about to look at furniture, something Ididknow about, instead of how his smile made my knees wobble and my clit tingle. I already knew he was walking sex. I didn’t need the rest of the store to know that I knew. I had to hide my reaction.
“Right this way,” the salesman said, and that time Ididcatch greedy undertones.
Tor was having too much fun, but I was on instant alert. Ihatedsalesmen who sold for themselves and not for the customer. Absolutely hated it. I encountered a lot of them, and I’d long since made it my mission to sell the customer what was rightfor them.
“Here, these are our top-of-the-line recliners,” he said, gesturing at a trio of linked single seats, each one covered in shiny black leather. “Come on, have a seat. Let me know what you think.”
“Who makes these?” I asked.
Tor looked at me, pausing in front of the middle chair before he sat down.
“Ah, these are made by a company called Vallen,” the salesman said. “They feature high-quality bonded leather covers that will resist spills and stains, true wood frame construction, and a soft pure foam cushion for sitting.”
I stared hard at him. “They’re overpriced pieces of shit, in other words,” I said, looking at the price tag.
Tor’s head tilted as he looked at me, then he rounded on the salesman, standing up tall, scanning him.
“I assure you, ma’am,” the salesman said, swallowing nervously. “They are—”
“She sells furniture for a living,” Tor growled. “If she says they’re shit, they’re shit. Yet you’re trying to tell me they’re the best? Then, when she calls you out, you were going to what, double down, dismiss her, ‘cause she’s a h—a woman?”
“Umm,” the salesman stammered.
