That clerk comes over anyway and starts talking. "This is our Knuckle Collection, inspired by London street culture. It adds a tough aesthetic with a sophisticated class. Is there a color or bag type you prefer?" Finally, she directs her attention toward me. "Perhaps the Hobo Mini bag." She latches onto a shiny gold handbag and sets it on the glass counter near us. "It has a detachable chain if you prefer to wear it over your shoulder or crossbody."
Miller continues eyeing the selection and grabs the most beautiful clutch I have ever seen in my entire life.
"Ay, yes, this one is quite elegant." She holds her hand out to Miller. "May I?" The lady takes it from him and turns it sideways. "This crystal-embellished clutch is adorned with Swarovski encrusted rings and also has a detachable chain." She opens it up and pulls out the tag, setting it on the glass and showing me the inside. "Big enough for your phone, a small wallet, and a lip-gloss. Perfect for a night out. Actually, I have another one in the back you might prefer. Let me get it for you." She slips away without allowing us a chance to respond.
I pick up the tag and flip it over. "Um yeah, not happening. We should leave."
Miller snatches it from my hand and chuckles when he sees the price. "That's it?"
My eyes widen. "Are you crazy? That bag is over four grand!" I keep my voice low but try to make him understand the severity.
He leans against the counter and folds his arms. "I could get you every bag in here if you wanted, Cora."
I roll my eyes. "You're out of your mind."
Miller sighs. "It's just money. Let me treat you. Please?" He tilts his head and pouts a bit, and I swear to Christ I could melt into a puddle on the ground just at the sight of him.
"I can't."
"I'll do it, you know?"
"What?"
"Buy every single bag in this store if you don't tell me which one you want." A sly grin forms on his face.
"You wouldn't."
"You have no idea the things I'd do for you." Something mysterious lingers in his tone like he has an inside joke with himself that I don't know.
I don't press to find out, but I also don't put it past him to make true on his promise. He did help me cover up a murder, why would I assume he wouldn't buy an entire store just to get me a new purse?
We have a momentary stand-off, our gazes locked onto each other as we battle telepathically.
Finally, I say, "Fine," because I'm pretty confident I'm not going to win this war.
"You want this one, don't you?" He points to the black one on the counter.
"How can you tell?"
"Your eyes did this little thing. I'd call it a twinkle but that's cliché as fuck."
"You can call it a twinkle."
"Okay, it was a twinkle." He winks at me, and I die a little inside but in the best way possible. "What else do you want?"
I glare at him. "Nothing else."
"Come on," he says while nudging my shoulder. "This is barely a blip."
"To you," I poke him back. "Oneveryexpensive bag is plenty."
Miller shrugs and starts looking through the case of jewelry he's leaning on. "Guess I'll just have to pick things out myself then."
The clerk appears with three bags in her grasp. She sets them on the counter and unveils them while giving her spiel about each one.
I listen politely, because what else am I supposed to do, tell her I can't afford any of them and that the guy I'm with apparently has more money than he knows what to do with?
"We'll take this one," Miller says while pointing at the black one I confessed I liked.
