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“You about done in there, Jules?” I ask snatching up her bags and holding them in front of me.
Julia flings open the dressing room door, her arms full of the clothes she tried on. “Done. And I’ll take all of them.” She hands the bundle to the associate.
“Awesome. I’ll start ringing you up.”
“Do you really need all of those?” I ask.
“No.”
I hold the grumble building in my throat. “We’re done now.”
“Fine. But don’t think any of this gets you off the hook for losing my apartment. I’m still mad at you.” Julia fails to sound even the least bit menacing. That quirk of her lip betraying her like it had with the ice cream the other night.
“I’m a dad, not a fool.”
“There’s a difference?” Julia playfully pokes her elbow in my side.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pull her to my side, and kiss the top of her head.
“That will be one-eighty-nine-sixty-three.” The associate says reading off the total.
Nope. No difference at all, I think as I hand over my credit card.
