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“Good, let’s keep going,” he breathes against my neck.
“You need to let me go,” I say loud enough for him to hear me. I hear a low groan as he releases me. I move to the next room, but it’s too square. So far that’s the only bedroom I would consider.
“What kind of furniture would you like for the living area?” Jonathan asks.
“I want a leather couch, either tan or dark brown.”
“Okay, have a look at these.” Jonathan leads us farther toward the back of the store. Again looking at miniature rooms, I find a couch and pair of oversized chairs I really like. I take a seat in the leather chair. It’s dark brown with tufted arms and a curved back. It comes with an ottoman. It’s soft and comfortable. Chase and I can fit in the one chair and have room left over.
“Nice choice,” Jonathan approves. “The pair of chairs are Ralph Lauren.” Wow, he makes furniture?
“I can fall asleep in this,” I say leaning on the back of the chair.
“Don’t doze off yet,” Chase warns. “We still have lots of rooms to furnish.” He yanks me from my comfort.
“What about the dining area?” Jonathan asks. “I have plenty of tables and chairs to choose from.” He leads us to the other end of the store where there are dozens of different rooms set up for dinner. I stop in front of a square table.
“That is a walnut dining table. It was made in the 1870s and the style is aesthetic.” The base of the table is in the shape of an X with flowers carved into the wood. The chairs are also carved and have leather panels both in the back and in the seat, which are held in with tacks. “The table comes with four leaves and can open up to ten feet in length.” That’s almost twice the size of my mom’s table. The space in the penthouse for a dining table is huge. Even if I wanted to leave the extra leaves in, I would still have plenty o
f room for a buffet or small server. Something like this could be an option.
We continue to look around the store. Jonathan leaves me to look around on my own. Chase follows behind as I look at small tables and other small pieces of furniture. My champagne buzz is starting to wear off, and I start to add up all of the pieces and possible prices. I return to the first item I looked at when we entered the store to see how off I am on cost. I look at the tag attached to the dresser. Fifteen thousand. Holy fuck! Before I start to hyperventilate, I turn to Chase who is looking at something behind me. “I don’t think I need all of this.” I wave in the general direction of the room.
“You need furniture,” he presses.
“I know, but this is too much.”
“We’re here to get a feel for your taste in furniture. It doesn’t mean that you have to purchase it here.”
“But-”
“No buts,” he pulls me in close and kisses the top of my head. “Don’t panic. Much of this stuff comes into the country on containers from Argentina and France. One of our investors imports from France. I plan on giving him a list of styles and then have him deliver the furniture to the apartment. It’ll be much less expensive than what you see here.” Oh. I feel as if a load has been lifted off my chest, and I can almost breathe again.
“Is there anything here you can’t live without?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t think . . .” then something catches my eye. There is a painting on the wall directly behind Chase. It’s a medium sized oil painting depicting the side of a building, but in front of the building are dozens of sunflowers. It’s so vivid, so lifelike.
It reminds me of when my dad used to take me and my mom out east toward the end of the summer. They would go wine tasting at Pindar. I was just a kid so there wasn’t that much for me to do, but my dad, no matter where we went, managed to make it special for me, and Pindar wasn’t any different. We would spend the afternoon listening to live music while enjoying a picnic lunch.
The vineyard had fields full of gorgeous sunflowers. The woman at the counter would give us shears and allow us to pick our own for a fee. Dad would take me into the side field and we’d walk through endless rows until I found the right ones. The man had the patience of a saint.
“What?” Chase turns toward the direction I’m staring.
“That painting,” I whisper. “It’s perfect.” Chase looks at me with his head cocked to one side. “It reminds me of my dad.”
“It’s a very well done painting.” He slides in behind me.
“Where do you think this was painted?” I wonder aloud. I get no response. “Chase, what do you think?” I turn around, and he’s not there. Where did he go? “Chase?”
He reappears from somewhere behind me and strolls past. He saunters over to the painting, lifting it off the wall, and brings it back to me. “Consider this a house warming gift.”
“But . . . it’s . . . I wanted . . .” Oh, crap, I can’t even string a sentence together. He arches a brow. I take a deep breath. “Thank you,” I manage to squeak out. I really don’t feel like fighting with him right now.
“My pleasure. So, have you had enough furniture shopping for one day?”
“Yes, I believe I have.”
“Good. I want to drop off the lease and get your keys,” he says with a wicked sexy smile that makes me melt. We both hurry out of the store.
