“It was meant to be a quick look, but he’s very watchable.”
She knew exactly how watchable he was. She’d spent the past week watching him in person.
“I haven’t seen it.”
“Well let’s put it this way, if I’m ever in an accident I want him running the show.”
Molly fanned herself, but before Harriet could respond the door opened and her brother strolled in. Brutus charged at him. He fielded the dog with one hand while disposing of his coat with the other.
Harriet was still getting used to seeing her brother wrestling with a dog. It was almost as alien as seeing him in love with a woman.
“Hey, babe.” Daniel gave Molly a long, appreciative kiss and Harriet rolled her eyes and slid her shoes on. She was happy for both of them, but if there was one thing she wasn’t in the mood for it was witnessing an excess of togetherness.
“And this,” she muttered, “is why I’m leaving the two of you alone. So that you can mate for life without witnesses.”
Daniel released Molly and gave Harriet a hug. “How are you doing?”
“Great,” Harriet lied, ignoring the question in Molly’s eyes. “Never better. But looking at your apartment makes me realize I’m nowhere near ready for Christmas. So I’m going home right now to decorate my own apartment.”
That part wasn’t a lie.
The first step to not dying alone surrounded by foster dogs was to take care of herself. And taking care included the little things.
Or maybe not so little, she thought half an hour later as she studied the tall fir tree propped against the wall in a side street off Fifth Avenue.
“You don’t have anything a little smaller?”
“A week ago I had every size you can imagine. They’re all gone. That’s it, lady. Take it or leave it.” The man selling trees looked grumpy, which took away some of the magic. Surely selling Christmas trees should be a happy experience?
She blew on her fingers and stamped her feet to keep warm. Maybe she should have planned this more carefully instead of being spontaneous.
Practical Harriet would have walked away. The tree was too big for her apartment. She lived alone. Why did she need a tree that big? Why did she need a tree at all?
Because she was tired of being practical Harriet.
She wanted to be rash, impulsive Harriet.
“I’ll take it.” She spoke loudly, as if volume somehow made her decision more permanent.
She almost changed her mind when he told her the price, but she handed over wha
t seemed like an obscene number of dollars.
She was now the owner of a large Christmas tree, which was almost certainly not going to fit into her apartment. And now she had a new problem. How to get it home.
She was going to have to drag it, which probably wasn’t going to do much for its appearance.
“I hope you’re hardy.” She pushed her hand through the spiky branches and tried to grab the trunk. “You’re going to need to be, living with me.”
The man went from grumpy to alarmed. “I’m not living with you.”
“I was talking to the tree.”
His expression told her everything she needed to know about his feelings toward women who talked to trees.
She talked to dogs all the time. Why not trees?
All the same, it was time to get out of here before his moody expression removed the gloss from her very expensive purchase.