Free A Walk in the Park by Jill Mansell Page A

to have to keep saying this, but they’re not your thing at all.”
    Outside the wide-open door, a menacing New York voice growled, “He disrespectin’ you, boss?”
    â€œCool it, Alvin. I don’t think he is.” Vampire Teeth flashed an evil, pointy-toothed grin at Harry. “Don’t let him bother you. Safe, man. Show me what ya got.”
    Good Lord. Harry blinked and wondered if this was a holdup. His heart began to thud. Did they have guns?”
    Aloud he said, “We don’t have a safe.”
    This provoked a bark of laughter. “Hey, relax. I’m asking you to show me your shirts. The whole range.”
    Oh. That was a relief. But did he really not understand he’d already seen everything there was to see? Harry pointed to the headless plastic mannequins in their shirts. “This is our range. We have a choice of short sleeves or, um, long sleeves. Colors are beige, cream, dark gray, or khaki. Here at Flying Ducks we concentrate on quality, cloth, and workmanship. These shirts are designed to last for—”
    â€œI’m a sixteen-inch collar. Can I try one on?”
    Try one on? His customers didn’t usually bother; it was only a shirt . Harry said, “Of course, you’re very welcome to, but I’m afraid we don’t have a changing room…”
    But Vampire Teeth was already peeling off his dazzling white T-shirt. He was evidently a regular at the gym, muscles rippling and not an ounce of fat on him. He looked at the label on the one Harry had pulled from its crackly cellophane packaging and raised an eyebrow. “Medium?”
    â€œSmall, medium, or large. We don’t do collar sizes.” Harry watched him try the shirt on. It didn’t help that the man was wearing baggy jeans slung so low his underpants were showing; it was as incongruous as a rugby top teamed with a tutu.
    And still the minions—they were definitely minions—were busy filming away.
    Vampire Teeth surveyed his reflection in the small mirror on the counter.
    â€œI like it.” He carefully examined the cuffs, the collar, noting the double stitching and the neatly edged buttonholes. “Quality. And I like the ducks.” He tapped the green and gold logo on the breast pocket. “How many you got in the medium?”
    â€œIn which color?”
    â€œAll the colors.”
    â€œYou mean in stock now?” Surprised by the question, Harry said, “Five in each color. So, twenty altogether.”
    â€œRight, I’ll have them.”
    â€œOne of each color?”
    â€œAll of them.”
    â€œWhat, all twenty ?”
    â€œYes. Is that a problem?”
    This was surreal.
    â€œIt could be. Look, I’m sorry, but you haven’t even asked the price yet. These aren’t cheap, I’m afraid.” Harry cleared his throat. “They’re seventy-five pounds each. But as I say,” he added hurriedly, “they’re very well made and last for years, so you really don’t need so many. One in each color would be plenty.”
    â€œHey.” Vampire Teeth pulled a wallet from the back pocket of his designer jeans and flipped out a black Amex card. “I want all of them.”
    â€œYou can’t have all of them.”
    â€œWhy can’t I?”
    â€œBecause if you did, there wouldn’t be any left for anyone else.”
    â€œSo? That’s their problem, not mine.”
    â€œBut they’re my customers. This is my shop. If one of them came in this afternoon wanting a new shirt in a medium, I wouldn’t want to let them down.” Harry stood his ground, steadfastly ignoring the camcorders. “You can have sixteen shirts. Let me keep one of each color and you can buy the rest.”
    Vampire Teeth surveyed him in silence for several seconds. Finally he said, “OK.”
    â€œBut I’m afraid we don’t take American Express.”
    A sigh. The Amex was returned to the