Page 36 of Chasing Clouds

“Yes. Ever heard of shabby chic?”

“No, thank God.”

She giggles. “Basically, it’s a style of furniture that looks new and used at the same time. People who like that look will have several pieces in their home as statement pieces, but none of them will match. With so many beach houses up and down the coast, the style sells really well. Beach houses are meant to be relaxed, not formal, and mixing the right pieces together makes the houses feel cozy and complete without the high price associated with furnishing a home. Every piece tells a story, you just have to listen.”

“Yep, not something I’ve ever thought of—not once.”

Instead of responding to me, she’s stopped in front of a booth called Through the Looking Glass and is staring at a large floor mirror propped against the back wall. Walking into the booth, she tilts her head as she runs her fingers down the wooden frame.

“It’s a beautiful piece, don’t you think?” a man asks as he steps up next to her.

“I do. Where did you get it?”

“Flea market in Virginia. The guy said he found it at a church roundup. They were looking for donations for the furniture, and as the saying goes, one man’s trash is another’s treasure. He bought it and cleaned it up.”

“A treasure indeed,” she says sincerely.

Personally, I don’t see anything special about it. Sure, it has a wide wooden frame, but one corner is damaged, it’s all scratched up, and it’s awkwardly big.

“Are you local?” she asks him.

“We have a storefront over in Dunedin, but I spend most of my time on the road.”

“I think I need to go check out your store.” She’s intrigued and looks around the tent at the other items he has.

“Well, we’d love to have you. If you’re interested in the mirror, I’m open to offers.”

Camille is quiet as she again peruses it. She walks around to check out both sides then wanders out the back of the tent so she can pull up the wall and examine the back. Part of me has the sudden urge to just jump in and buy it for her—it’s clear that she loves it—but another part of me is enjoying watching her in her element. Her wheels are turning; she sees something in this item.

Another customer requires the shopkeeper’s assistance, and Camille comes back to me.

“What do you think?” she asks.

“I have no opinion. This is all you, so whatever you want.”

“I think I want it.” She takes off her hat and pushes all of the loose pieces of hair back.

“What would you do with it?”

A slow smile tips her lips up. “Oh, I have an idea.” She puts her hat back on and goes to speak to the guy.

After negotiating on a price, he agrees to sell her the mirror for an amount that, to me, seems like way more than it’s worth. She, however, is beaming, so I can’t help but hand my credit card over.

“No way, Reid.”

“Yes way, Camille. You’re with me, and you said this is a date, so this is how it is.”

She scowls and crosses her arms over her chest. “But it’s too much—I can’t ask you to pay for this.”

“Too late.”

The man takes my card and tries to diffuse the tension by changing the subject. “Do you want to take the mirror now, or can we hold it until the end of the weekend and have it delivered to your home?”

The mirror is a really big piece of his booth, so I can see why he wants to hold on to it. “You can deliver it Monday or Tuesday, that works for us,” I tell him. She’ll be home to receive it, so there won’t be any logistical problems. I give him my address, and the guy smiles as he thanks us for our business. Camille squeezes my arm with excitement. She’s touching me, and I can’t help but look down at her fingers wrapped around my bicep.

“Thank you, Reid.” Large blue eyes shine up at me.

“Haven’t we talked about you not saying that to me anymore?” I step another inch closer to her, run my free hand down her arm, and slide my hand into hers.