“Roses are cheap,” I said.
“A beautiful thing is precious, no matter the price. Those who do not know how to see the precious things in life will never be happy. I wish you to be happy, Mr. Kyle.”
Yeah, and the best things in life are free, right? But what would you expect from someone who makes a living washing other people’s Jockey shorts?
“I think it’s ugly,” I said.
She put down the laundry she was holding and, quick as can be, snatched the rose away. “Give it to me, then.”
“Are you on crack?” I knocked the box from her hand. It bounced to the floor. “That’s probably how you planned it, huh? Get the wrong thing so I don’t want it, and I’ll give it to you. I don’t think so.”
She looked at the rose lying on the floor. “I pity you, Mr. Kyle.”
“You pity me?” I laughed. “How can you pity me? You’re the maid