Matthew
I grin secretly as I notice how pissed Sarah looks right now. The fact that I bought a necklace for Amanda bothered her a lot.
Good.
I turn to the elderly lady and point at a delicate decorative hairpin. "Can I see that?" I ask.
The vendor nods and carefully picks up the hairpin, placing it in my palm. It's silver, shaped like a vine, with small, pearl-like beads woven into the design. Simple but elegant.
I turn it between my fingers, feeling the weight of Sarah's glare on me. I can almost hear her thoughts—Who's that for?—but she keeps her mouth shut. She's trying so hard not to ask, and I enjoy watching her struggle with it.
"You have good taste, young man," the lady says with a smile. "This one is very special."
I smirk. "Really?"
I don't need to look at Sarah to know she's fuming. The necklace already got under her skin, and now this? She probably wants to rip the hairpin from my hands just to prove a point.
