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“Do you guys have a New Year’s sale coming up where this might be half off or something?” Brent asked.

The salesman appeared insulted.

“No,” he gritted out, “no upcoming sales. I’m sorry.”

Spencer could see he was anything but sorry. It was closing time, and the man probably hadn’t made one cent in commission all day with an attitude like that.

“I like owls, and my mom loved them. Both of my parents were writers, and I’m studying to be one too. Do you think you’ll be getting any new pieces from the literary collection? Maybe some in sterling silver instead of twenty-four carat platinum gold?”

The salesman shook his head. “No, not that I know of.” He relocked the case since it was obvious Spencer wouldn’t be buying anything. “I wish you luck with your studies.”

“Sure.” Spencer nodded.

Brent nudged him in the back, but his feet were glued to one spot. He loathed the day he would come back to find his bracelet gone, sold to someone who didn’t know its true meaning and value.

“What do you write?” a smooth voice said from behind them, catching Spencer off guard.

Spencer

This new salesman carried himself differently. He had more charisma and swagger than the one who was still staring at them with suspicion.

“He writes science fiction, some of the best I’ve ever read, and I don’t like reading,” Brent blurted before Spencer could answer. “His mom and dad wrote the famous—”

“Brent,” Spencer bit out.

He shook his head at his friend, hoping he’d get the hint. Spencer didn’t like to discuss his parents. He couldn’t go there on Christmas Eve, any day but today.

Spencer motioned for Brent to head to the door. “We better get going.”

“I hope not before you purchase your bracelet,” the man said, his voice smooth like honey.

He walked behind the counter, his gait confident, his sexy smirk even more so. His black pinstripe suit fit him well, and while Spencer wasn’t impressed with well-dressed men, this one seemed to have the warmest brown eyes he’d ever seen. Like the color of hot caramel.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Spencer lowered his gaze back to the bracelet that was made for him, had to be.

He stared at the stark gold owl separating the two different-colored beads. It was almost identical to his parents’ logo. But fuck, why did it have to cost six months’ worth of his paychecks?

“I was just perusing. Killing time.”

“‘Perusing’?” Brent scoffed. “You’ve been orgasming over this bracelet since you first saw it.”

“Cole, you don’t have to worry about this. I got it,” the first salesman said.

Cole gripped the hell out of the other man’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Gerald. Go ahead and finish closing. I’ll help Mr.…”

Spencer stared for a second before he caught on and offered his name.

“I’m Spencer Underwood. I’m also not trying to waste your time because I’m not buying anything tonight, Mr.…”

“My name is Coleman, but I prefer to be called Cole. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Spencer Underwood.”

Spencer extended his hand without thinking and gripped Cole’s palm. It felt as though he’d never worked a day of manual labor in his life. Cole held their connection a little longer than normal. Spencer didn’t read too much into it—this was nothing more than a slick salesman turning up the charm to make a sale.

“No. No. I’m not getting it.” Spencer shook his head.

He was trying to convince himself not to be ridiculous and spend money he didn’t have.

“Take your time. I’m not in a rush.” Cole cocked his head to the side, his gaze dropping to Spencer’s mouth before snapping back up to meet his eyes.

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