Page 106 of Perfect Assumption
“And that’s my cue to go,” Becks claims.
“Oh, no, Becks. Stay. Please. This impacts you as well.” Carys’s smile when her brother and husband walk in can only be classified as pure malice. When everyone’s seated around the conference table, Carys begins. “Bad boys generally get coal. This season, David, Ward, you both are getting Becks.”
They groan unanimously. Becks demands, “What the hell did I do wrong?”
I turn on him. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
He winks, his good mood going unperturbed. “I always do, don’t I?”
And that’s when Ward says, “Shit.”
“’Tis the season, brother. Enjoy your present.”
Ward spins in his chair. Instead of angry, his face is relaxed. “Trust me, Carys, I already got my present. If this is the price I have to pay for it, I’ll gladly do so.”
Sitting here stoically when all I want to do is dive into his lap and declare he’s my forever present…oh, shit. Christmas presents. I make a face at Carys and tap my watch insistently.
“Good, now the lot of you get out. Angie and I have an important meeting we have to attend.” Once the men disappear, she hurries around my side of the table. “We don’t have anything scheduled. I’m off the rest of the day. What’s wrong?”
“What the hell do I get the man who can buy himself anything for Christmas?” I ask desperately.
“The same thing I’m getting David. Come shopping with me.”
“When?”
“Now.”
* * *
“We should have donethis years ago,” Carys declares as she reads a text from David, decides it’s not important, and shoves her phone back in her purse. Her aqua eyes are sparkling as we traipse up and down Fifth Avenue.
“Before now, there’s no way in hell you’d have dragged my ass out of the office. Oh, excuse me.” I bump into yet another tourist as they cut me off to get a better position in front of Saks’s windows.
“True. I can’t wait for you to see this shop. It’s divine.”
“Will I be able to afford it?” I ask her.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“David and I have a rule. I can’t buy him anything he wouldn’t be able to afford for me,” Carys tells me as we duck down a side street and head toward Madison Avenue.
“I like that,” I declare.
“You and Ward need to put that in place because if I know my brother, he’s going to go whack-a-doodle. He always does with us.”
“I’ll kill him,” I say passionlessly.
Carys laughs. “I wish you luck. If you manage to pull it off, David would be grateful. Ben is going to be ridiculously spoiled but not by us.”
We approach a nondescript doorway and fling it open. Jogging up a few flights of stairs, we enter a whole new world that’s not what I expected when Carys said she had a “perfect idea of what to get Ward.” It’s the most feminine space I’ve ever been in. Shrugging off my coat, I take in the gorgeous silks and satins intermingled together. “I feel like I’m in a sexy boudoir,” I whisper to Carys, who chuckles.
“Welcome to Pour Vous, Angie. This is what I always get David.”
I arch a brow. “Seriously?”
“What does the man really need that he can’t or won’t buy for himself?” She asks me essentially the same question I’ve been pondering as we’ve window-shopped our way through tourists.
