Page 73 of Crazy In Love
“It’s in an antique store in Paris.” I chuckled. “It’s not in the price point that I was hoping for, nor is it even in this country. But it just makes such a statement, right?”
He studied the screen. “Yes. How do you have a price point if I don’t?”
“Well, I’m just trying to be practical with the budget. This is outrageously priced. I’m going to see if I can find something similar here in the States that isn’t quite so expensive.”
“If you found the right piece, why would you continue looking for something more reasonable?” he asked.
He wasn’t being a cocky bastard when he asked the question.
It was genuine.
“Well…” I chewed the edge of my thumbnail. “It’s a mantel, and it costs one hundred and ten thousand dollars. It seems—I don’t know, it’s a lot of money for a fireplace.”
He narrowed his gaze as he turned to look at me with confusion. “I told you that budget wasn’t an issue. This is an expensive home, and we’re talking about a focal point in the house, correct?”
“Yes. It’s just, I don’t know, I thought this might be a bit excessive.”
He turned back to look at the screen. “Is it the right piece?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think it’s excessive. It’s a home I plan to live in forever, and I hired you for your expertise. If you think it’s right, then you should get it.”
I blew out a breath. Decorating on a large budget was proving to be a lot of pressure. I was definitely used to being in the camp of finding something you liked, and then searching for a better price.
But I wasn’t going to find a copycat of a nineteenth-century French antique mantel on Amazon.
I fidgeted with my hands, tucking my lips between my teeth as I thought it over.
“Emilia, I’m not a mind reader. You’re going to need to tell me what the problem is,” he said, his tone impossible to read. It came out harsh, but his gray gaze was filled with concern, which surprised me.
“It’s a lot of money, and it makes me nervous to purchase something in this price point without seeing it. But it’s not like I’m going to find this at an antique store here in Rosewood River or even in San Francisco. So I have to just hope that it’s as good in person as it looks online. It just feels risky.”
He used his thumb and pointer finger to stroke along the scruff of his jaw. “I see. That’s a fair concern.”
Well, that was a relief.
I thought he was going to get annoyed that I was nervous about the purchase.
“But you like it?” he asked.
“Yes, I love it.”
“So, I guess we’re going to Paris tomorrow. Get your shift covered.”
“Excuse me?” I gaped at him as he started typing into his phone.
“You just said you love the piece, and it’s what you want for the space, did you not?”
“Yes?” It came out as more of a question.
He pushed to his feet and moved to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I need food.”
He pulled something out of his fridge and popped it in the oven.
“Bridger.” I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Emilia.” He mimicked my tone and stance.
