Twice in a Blue Moon by Laura Drake Page B

towels was a stack of yoga mats. She gathered each and every one in her arms. They weren’t heavy, but they were awkward. Deciding not to backtrack for a cart, she waddled to the home section.
    She turned a corner while looking at the signage overhead and ran into a body. “Oof.”
    A strong hand gripped her elbow. “Hang on there, Miss. You all right?”
    She looked around the mats to a man in jeans, a T-shirt and a black carpenter’s apron. The plastic pin on his shirt read, “I’m Tim. How can I help you today?”
    â€œHere, give me those. I’ll get you a cart.” He took the mats from her and laid them on the cement floor. Then he was gone, jogging down the aisle before she could protest, returning a few seconds later with a shopping cart. “Here you go, Miss.” He lifted and dropped the ungainly mats in.
    â€œThanks. I should have done that from the beginning.”
    Blue eyes in a tanned face sparkled as he looked her over. “I’m here to help in any way I can.”
    Somehow, she didn’t think he was referring to her hardware needs. She dropped her smile. “Could you just tell me where I’d find mirror tiles?”
    â€œI can do better than that. I’ll take you there.” She followed him to the end of the tile aisle.
    â€œWe have the gold-veined variety, or plain, in several sizes. Which were you looking for?”
    â€œPlain.”
    â€œYou didn’t look like a seventies kind of lady to me.”
    She scanned the boxes, avoiding his smile and his invitation to flirt. “What are the largest squares you have?”
    â€œTwelve-by-twelve.”
    She sighed. It would take forever to mirror the entire wall in her new yoga room that way.
    â€œWhat are you using them for?” He must have caught her hint, because his voice was all business.
    â€œI’m mirroring a long wall.”
    â€œIn that case, I suggest mirror sheets. Much easier to install, and they look more modern, too.”
    He took her around the corner to show her a display bathroom with the sheets installed. They looked like a silver mosaic up close, but if she backed up, she could see herself in them. If you weren’t happy with what you saw in the mirror, with a shift of focus, you’d disappear. These would be wonderful. “But they’re expensive, aren’t they?”
    He pointed to a roll on the pallet rack below the display. “Actually, they’re cheaper than the tiles. It’s easier to manufacture and transport these.”
    â€œGreat! I’ll need to work out how many I need.”
    â€œAnd I’ll need to check stock. Come with me.” He led her to a desk with a computer and held out a chair for her. “How large is the wall?”
    He sat in the other chair, grabbed a calculator and did the math. The total he came up with was less than she’d feared—and they had them in stock. She handed over her credit card. The expense for the spa side of the business would come out of her meager personal account. It seemed important that she be able to track the profit that her knowledge brought to the winery.
    â€œDo you want them delivered?”
    She bit her lip. No way seven rolls would fit in her Audi. “I’m afraid you’ll have to.” She recited the address of the winery for his records.
    He pulled a business card from his carpenter apron and wrote on the back. “I’m Tim Benton, manager of the store. That’s my cell number.” He handed it over. “We’ll get this out to you by noon tomorrow. But you let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” He had laugh lines at the corner of his eyes when he smiled.
    She took the card and stood. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”
    Wheeling the cart to the front of the store, she realized she was no longer a normal woman. Yes, she was still mourning Harry, but it was more than that. It