Page 55 of Not Looking
I nodded. “Ambrosia maple.” I ran my thumb over a couple of the holes and imagined what colors I could fill them with. It would make a stunning small charcuterie board, and I could probably get a pen or two if I shaped it right.
“The bug holes are ok?”
I laughed, unable to tear my eyes from the piece of wood. “They’re more than ok.”
“Really?” he asked with a sigh of relief.
I looked up and smiled at him. “They weren’t fucking with you. This had to have been cut off from a special order. Whoever ordered the maple might not have wanted the ambrosia end, but I can put this to good use.”
“Harrison said you’ll fill the holes?” he asked, his nervous smile widening as he realized I wanted the wood.
I nodded. “Clear or black would be easiest, just some CA glue. But I’ll probably do a turquoise or purple resin instead. I think the color would pop nicely.”
Craig’s brown eyes glittered. “Take a picture for me when it’s done? I want to see what you make with it.”
I smiled. It was such a simple ask that there was no way I could refuse. “I can do that.”
His grin was radiant. “I can’t wait.”
A moment passed.
“You said you had other scraps for me?” I prodded.
He slapped his forehead with his palm. “You’re right.” He reached under the register, then set the gray bin on the counter.
He angled it, but the light from behind him made it clear there was some writing on his side, though I didn’t know what it said.
I peeked in and grinned. He’d promised that he’d set aside fewer pieces, but I also saw that he’d paid attention to what I’d rejected the last time. He’d stuck to woods that weren’t common for the mill, or had stunning figure.
I knew what he was doing, and I knew it was throwing him a bone, but he’d paid attention. “You did good.”
His smile was radiant. “I’m glad.”
I backed off to grab one of the scrap buckets, then returned—only to see a container of dog treats on the counter.
“Can I give one to Russy?” he asked.
The butterflies in my stomach had returned. “Yeah.”
He reached in and grabbed one, then rounded the counter. He knelt and held out his hand. “Russy!”
My dog padded over, sniffed, then accepted the treat. Craig scratched behind his ears, then stood.
“I think you’ve got a friend for life now,” I joked as Russy’s tail wagged while he sniffed Craig’s pants.
Craig smiled down, then turned to me. “I think he’s an ok friend to have.”
Damn butterflies.
“Hey Randy?”
I turned to see Harrison standing in the door that separated the showroom from the back. “Yeah?”
“Mind if I start some pre-close stuff?”
I shook my head. “Go for it. I know I’m here at the end of the day.”
He chuckled. “We close in a few, but you’re good to finish shopping.”
