How to Kill A Couch #2
I honestly felt bad for stressing him out about money, even if it was only temporary. “I’ll buy a new one,” I said quickly, “since it was my fault.”
Danny’s face did something complicated and his mouth turned down at the corners, the way it always did when me spending money on him was involved. “I can’t let you do that.”
Chase shoved at his shoulder. “Let your fancy lawyer boyfriend buy us a couch, dumbass.”
“It’s not Miller’s responsibility,” Danny said. But I knew him well enough to sense he was tempted by the offer. He really wanted a new couch; he was just too fucking stubborn to let me buy it. So I did what any good lawyer would do. I played dirty.
“Babe,” I said, letting some of that bossy bedroom tone he loved creep into my voice. “It is my responsibility. I broke it, so I’m gonna buy it, okay? This isn’t up for debate.”
“Sweet,” Chase said, eyes lighting up. “Hey, can we get something bigger?”
Cash nodded, eyes wide, and whispered in his ear.
“Miller’s not getting you a recliner,” Chase said.
I could see Danny’s resistance melting away in the face of the twins’ enthusiasm. “I guess we could go look,” he said.
I fought to hide my smile. “Bob’s in Hopewell has a sale right now.”
Danny’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”
I shrugged. “Marty said something about it.” The great thing about Marty was that he was so unpredictable, I could say he’d mentioned literally anything and anybody who’d met him would accept it.
Sure enough, Danny nodded. “Okay. Lemme get dressed.”
“I still don’t get how you broke the couch just sitting on it,” Wilder said again. “I mean you two pounded the hell out of it and it survived.” He paused, then said, “Wait. You two didn’t fuck it into the ground, did you? Because you promised you wouldn’t do that again!”
“No!” Danny said, shoving Wilder’s shoulder. “And keep your voice down!” He gave a worried glance at the sales desk where a tall older man was watching us curiously.
“It just collapsed, okay?” I said. “Anyway, the point is I’m getting you a new one.
So let me know what you like. Not that one,” I added as Wilder and Danny both drifted toward a tiny, ugly couch that was on clearance.
“We need something bigger.” And then, like it had just occurred to me, I said, “You know what would be great? If we got one with a pullout for Wilder to sleep on once Gracie moves in.”
Wilder’s face lit up. “Yeah?”
“Sure. I think they have some in the sale.”
Make no mistake, I already had a pretty good idea which couch we were getting.
I’d spent hours yesterday between clients, reading online furniture reviews and comparing prices.
But I couldn’t exactly say that without giving myself away.
So instead I made a beeline for the most expensive couch in the place.
It was a leather six-seater with two built-in recliners and a remote control, cup holders, and a phone charging port.
And, of course, a pullout bed. “Oh hey, this looks great!” I sat down and ran my hands over the leather. “It’s perfect.”
Danny took one look at the price tag, and just like I’d expected, he paled and said, “It’s over two thousand dollars!”
I had no intention of buying the couch, but I knew Danny. It would be a lot easier to get him to go for a midrange couch if he thought he’d talked me down from one that was two grand.
Wilder whistled through his teeth. “That’s a lot for a couch.” His expression grew teasing as he ran a hand over the leather. “But look, you can easily wipe up any ji—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” Danny muttered under his breath. “The sales guy’s already looking at us funny.”
“Juice,” Wilder said. “I was gonna say you could easily wipe up any juice. You know, with Gracie coming to live with us.” He grinned widely.
“Do you gentlemen need any help?” The salesman had obviously decided we needed adult supervision.
“We’re just looking, thanks,” Danny said, ducking his head.
I stood and said, “Hi. We’re looking specifically for a couch that will seat at least four, with a pullout bed, possibly vegan leather or any other wipeable option since we have a little girl. And we’d like it on sale. Maybe… that one?” I pointed to one of the couches I’d earmarked in my research.
Danny blinked at me. The salesman, though, looked me up and down, taking in my fitted jeans and non-Walmart polo shirt, gave me his best “I work on commission” smile, and said, “Right this way, sir.”
That smile of his was a little strained at the edges by the time we were done, because I made the guy move everything out of the way on at least four different couches so we could see how comfortable the pullout beds were.
But he was a salesman through and through, because he immediately picked me as the guy with the credit card, Danny as the guy who needed convincing, and Wilder as… well, whatever Wilder was.
Wilder stared up at the ceiling of the furniture store as he starfished on one of the beds. “It makes me want to roll toward the middle. I think the other one was better?”
“The other one was two hundred dollars more,” Danny whispered, as though we didn’t all know that already. “Maybe we should look somewhere else.”
We all heard the “cheaper” that he didn’t say, and the salesman’s smile faltered for a second as he saw the sale slipping away.
Then he rallied, leaned in toward Danny conspiratorially, and said, “You know, if memory serves me, that other one has a matching recliner. I could probably cut you a deal on it.”
Danny turned to me, and I knew he was thinking about Cash, the same as I was.
“What sort of a deal?” I asked, stepping away from Danny and Wilder.
The salesman followed the scent of my credit card, and we hashed out the details in an undertone by some ugly wicker garden chairs.
When I went back to the foldout couches, Wilder and Danny were both lying on one, Wilder with his arms folded behind his head and Danny with an unhappy expression that said he was already calculating a million different ways he felt he’d owe me for this.
“This is definitely the one, yeah?” I asked. “Because the guy’s going to throw in the recliner.”
“Throw it in?” Danny asked suspiciously.
“Yeah,” I lied. “I guess they’re clearing out all their old floor stock to make way for new stuff. Plus, it helps that I have excellent negotiating skills.”
Wilder gave me an appraising look. He knew I was full of bullshit, but he was too smart to call me on it. “You lawyered him good, Miller!”
“It’s the least I could do,” I said. “Since I broke your old couch.”
Danny chewed his bottom lip worriedly. “Are you sure it’s not too much?”
“Babe,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed, “I practically live at your place. And I’m too old to sit in that beanbag you have. Trust me when I say I’m doing this for purely selfish reasons.”
“How can he rail you over the back of a couch when we don’t have one?” Wilder asked with a lazy grin and then yelped when Danny elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.