Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 130286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
He looked at the tag she hadn’t noticed tacked to the side. “This one’s four ninety-nine.”
“Four ninety-nine? As in four hundred and ninety-nine dollars?” She nearly spit.
“It’s a memory foam. You’re talking about one hundred and eighty degrees of spring and three
hundred and sixty degrees of comfort.”
She stepped away from the bed. “I’m looking for something a little more affordable.”
Sal stepped to the right. “Well, this here’s a notable brand. It’s a traditional spring.”
She looked for the tag. It was two hundred and ninety-nine dollars. Her stomach sunk. Scowling, she
marched down the line, flicking up each tag until she found one that was in her price range. She sat on the edge of the mattress and bounced. This one wasn’t cut in with white stuffed diamond shapes, but it
had nice blue ticking. It was firm and squeaked as she bounced.
The salesman approached with a regretful expression. “I don’t think you want that one, sweetheart.
You’ll be spending the difference on visits to the chiropractor. That there’s a backbreaker.”
Lips pursed, she met his gaze challengingly. “Do you make a commission?”
His mouth opened as he gathered his words. “Well, yes, but I’m more concerned with your comfort
than making a sale.”
“I’m sure you are,” she mumbled, standing to examine the box spring. “How much is this?”
He sighed. “That box spring’s fifty five. Can I show you a better model? It’s only a little more. I’d
hate to see you throw away your money on a mattress you aren’t happy with.”
Scout faced him. “Sal—it is Sal, isn’t it?” He nodded. “Well, Sal, I’m sure the mattress isn’t as bad
as you say. A man like you wouldn’t have shoddy merchandise in his store.”
He blustered. “Well, now, I wouldn’t call it shoddy—”
“But you’d call it a backbreaker?”
“I only meant there are better—”
“Right. I know what you meant. This mattress will do just fine.”
His lips formed a thin line. “Our store has a non refundable policy—”
“That’s fine. When can I have it delivered?”
His eyes narrowed and he sighed. Lifting the clipboard he held, his pudgy fingers flipped a few
pages. “Where’s it going?”
“Only a few blocks from here, South Knights Boulevard.”
“I have an opening for tonight between five and seven.”
She beamed. “Perfect! I’d like to pay now.”
She followed a very sulky Sal to the register. Her grand total for her mattress, box spring, and frame
was one hundred ninety-four dollars and four cents with tax. She signed the order form carefully.
She’d never written her name so much in one day.
“Slide your card,” Sal said, gesturing toward the fancy card device on the counter. Luckily, from
clerking at Clemons, she was familiar with the device. She swiped her card, and words came up. Lots
of words. Shit.
“Type in your pin and hit Enter.”
Blowing out a calming breath, she typed in the address for Patras. 1-9-0-0.
“You have to hit Enter.”
Where was Enter? When she took longer than usual, Sal said, “The green button.”
Scout quickly hit the button. “Sorry. I forgot my glasses,” she lied.
“Hit Enter again if the amount’s okay.”
She looked at the screen. $194.04. That was correct. She pressed the green button again and more
words appeared as a paper receipt spewed from the register. She’d been a bit concerned the funds
wouldn’t clear, but it looked as though her money was available. Sal stapled it to her signed receipt
and slid it across the counter.
“If you miss the delivery there’s a twenty-five-dollar service fee and our next delivery day isn’t
until Saturday.” He certainly wasn’t as friendly since he learned he wouldn’t be making a living off of her.
Taking the paperwork, she gave him a nice smile. “Thank you very much.”
He grumbled a have a nice day and she left. Tonight she’d be sleeping on her own bed!
***
Scout was huffing and puffing by the time she made it up the narrow steps of her apartment with her
bags. The living space was swamped with other bags and assorted items. She needed to get things put
away before her bed arrived.
She was nearing a crash. Her legs ached. Over the past two hours, she hustled her ass off trying to
get everything she’d need to make her place a home. She’d visited the general store and found sheets,
a pillow, blankets, towels, her very first one-cup coffeepot. Every purchase validated her arrival into the real world.
As her bank account chipped away, she suffered little remorse for her purchases. She still had a ton
of money in her account, and these were all items she needed. Although she asked Lucian to loan her
thirty-five thousand, her actual plan would cost less. She was smart to ask for a bit more, knowing she needed a home. Well, maybe not needed. She’d certainly gone without such luxuries before, but it was time to join the ranks of normal adults.
She’d bought enough from the market to make it through the night. It was more sensible to bring a
couple of bags home from work each day. For now, she had enough to keep her busy.