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“Difficult?” Kiera choked, spinning. “He’s impossible. He always has

something to argue about. Sales. Commissions. The age of our other items.

Our prices on the other stuff, especially if it’s priced lower or higher than

his. We’re either trying to undercut him or someone is asking ‘ridiculous

prices for their junk.’”

“And, of course, he conveniently ignores that his own junk is also the

same.”

“No, no, his junk is not junk. His junk is pink hippo farts and fairy dust

and dancing unicorns prancing through an enchanted forest.”

That earned a snort from Romi and a brow raise from Wynn. So what if

that was the first time she’d used an absurdly trendy quote in a twisted way.

She gave him a shrug, as if to say, I’m just warming up to step in the ring.

“Oh, well, I could, you know, deal with him if you wanted.”

“What?” Kiera glued her mouth shut just so there was no chance her jaw

could bang open and scrape against the old hardwood planked floor.

“Yeah. I was just going to hang some lights and stuff in the basement for

the morning,” Romi informed her.

“You have her hanging lights?” Kiera gasped.

Wynn just nodded. “It’s simple, really. Just a few wires here and there.”

“She could electrocute herself. Why not wait for Ben like we always

do?”

“Ben is on vacation for two weeks. The lights are piling up. I know how

to do it, but I hate getting on the ladder. I showed Romi how to do it. We

practiced a couple times. She’s doing great.”

“I promise I won’t burn down your store,” Romi tacked on helpfully.

“I seriously hope not.” Kiera blinked at Wade, who stared back at her.

She swore he was giving her a challenging kind of look, like he was

daring her to find something wrong with the new hire. She mentally ceded a

point to him. And one to Romi, since she was willing to greet her at the

door after she’d pretty much breathed fire all over her the week before, and