Page 70 of The Newcomer
“Not until next Monday,” Letty said. “And there’s a pretty hefty delivery fee.”
“I’ll call Joe,” Letty said. “He’s off this afternoon. Can you hang around there until he arrives?”
“Is that necessary?” Letty asked. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Joe this soon again after their awkward parting on the beach. “I should probably get back to Maya.”
“Maya’s right here, stringing beads with Isabelle. Please just wait for Joe and make sure those folks load everything you’ve bought.”
Joepulled the truck up to the clearance center’s loading dock, where Letty was waiting.
“These?” He pointed at the stacks of lounge chairs on a shipping cart. “You bought these butt-ugly chairs for the Surf? Has Ava seen them?”
“Yes,” Letty said. “I texted her a photo. They’re half the price of the pretty ones, so she said to go ahead and buy them.”
“No,” Joe said flatly. He gestured to the stock clerk who was standing by, waiting to help load the chairs. “Take these back inside, please. We’ve changed our minds.”
The guy in overalls shrugged and grabbed the cart.
“Please don’t do that,” Letty said. The guy retreated to the far side of the loading dock.
Her carefully controlled temper flared. “What the hell do youthink you’re doing? They’re ugly, but they’re sturdy, and they’re all we can afford. Your mom approved those chairs. I’ve already put them on her credit card.”
He bounded up the steps to the loading platform and grabbed her by the elbow. “Lesson one in dealing with Ava DeCurtis. She always thinks cheaper is better. That’s why we ended up with those crappy broken-ass chairs we’ve got now. Some guy came by with a truckload of ’em and made her a deal she couldn’t refuse.”
Letty wrenched her arm away from him. “I’m not getting in the middle of an argument between you and your mom. She’s my boss, not you. And anyway, I don’t appreciate your second-guessing me.”
Joe pointed at the mud-colored loungers. “If you owned the Surf, would you want potential guests seeing those when they pulled up to the motel?”
“Well…”
“Aren’t you the one urging Ava to bump up the room rates so she can spend a little money on updating and improving the place?”
“The other chairs cost twice as much as these,” Letty argued. “That’s a big investment.”
Joe crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.
“What?”
“Are you fighting with me because you disagree, or because you’re still pissed at me for kissing you the other night?”
She felt the blood rising in her cheeks, but ignored his taunt. “There’s a right and a wrong way to be right, you know.”
“Huh?” He glanced over at the warehouse worker, who rolled his eyes and sniggered.
“Maybe you could stop being Joe the cop and Joe the authority on everything and try thinking about your approach to other people,” Letty said.
“That makes no sense.”
The sun was beating down on her head, and the store guy was now stretched out on top of the stack of loungers, making no effortto hide the fact that he was vastly amused by the heated exchange he was witnessing.
Exasperated, she threw her hands in the air. “Okay. I give up. You’re right. These chairs are hideous. So I’m wrong. But you’re an asshole. Every day I get another chance at being right, but tomorrow and the day after that? You’ll still be an asshole.”
Letty flipped the credit card toward Joe, but it fell to the concrete loading dock. “There are plenty of these same chairs in pastel colors inside. You want pretty chairs at twice the price, be my guest. I’m done here.”
The warehouse worker scrambled to his feet and stopped her as she was about to leave the loading dock. “Uh, ma’am? Does your husband want these chairs or not?”
“That man,” Letty said, through clenched teeth, “isnotmy husband.”
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