Mr. Rutherford’s brows drew together. “Surely you’re not related to Mr. George Griswold, are you?”
“He’s my father,” Permilia returned before she frowned and lifted out what appeared to be some type of printed form, one that had a small pencil attached to it with a maroon ribbon. “What is this?”
Mr. Rutherford returned the frown, looking as if he wanted to discuss something besides the form Permilia was now waving his way, but he finally relented—although he did so with a somewhat heavy sigh. “It’s a survey, and I would be ever so grateful if you and Miss Radcliff would take a few moments to fill it out, returning it after you’re done to a member of my staff, many of whom can be found offering hot chocolate for a mere five cents at a stand we’ve erected by the side of the lake. I’m trying to determine which styles of skates my customers prefer, and after I’m armed with that information, I’ll be better prepared to stock my store next year with the best possible products.”
“Far be it from me to point out the obvious, Mr. Rutherford, but one has to wonder about your audacity,” Permilia said. “It’s confounding to me that you’re so successful in business, especially since not only are you overcharging your customers for the skates today, you also expect those very customers to extend you a service by taking time out of their day to fill out a survey for you. And then, to top matters off nicely, instead of extending those customers a free cup of hot chocolate for their time and effort, you’re charging them for that as well.”
“I’m a businessman, Miss Griswold—as is your father, if I need remind you. I’m sure he’d understand exactly what my strategy is here today, as well as agree with that strategy.”
Permilia stuck her nose into the air. “You may very well be right, Mr. Rutherford, but . . .” She thrust the box back into his hands. “Since I’m unwilling to pay more than I’ve already given you for these skates, I’ll take my money back, if you please.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mr. Rutherford said, thrusting the box right back at Permilia. “Now, if the two of you will excuse me, I have other customers to attend to.” With that, he sent Wilhelmina a nod, scowled at Permilia, and strode through the snow back to his cash register. He immediately took to smiling a charming smile at the line of young ladies who’d gathered around the pink boxes, none of them appearing to be perturbed in the least by the price Mr. Rutherford had set for the skates, especially since most of them were already waving money his way.
Taking hold of Permilia’s arm, Wilhelmina couldn’t help but grin when she saw the sparkle in her new friend’s eyes. “You’re a little frightening. You realize that, don’t you?”
“I’ve always enjoyed a rousing barter, but I must admit that I didn’t truly know whether or not I’d win this round in the end.” Permilia smiled and nodded to an empty bench by the side of the ice. “Shall we see if Mr. Rutherford’s skates are worth the exorbitant price he’s asking for them?”
“You didn’t pay what he was asking for them, and I, well, I didn’t pay anything at all, since Edgar purchased the skates for me in advance,” Wilhelmina pointed out.
“Which speaks volumes about Mr. Wanamaker’s character.” Reaching the bench, Permilia took a seat, Wilhelmina joining her a moment later. Before either one of them could begin getting their skates on over their buttoned boots, though, two young men from Rutherford & Company appeared out of nowhere and began assisting them.
“Perhaps Mr. Rutherford does know a thing or two about what he’s doing after all,” Permilia said as the two young men sent them nods and hurried away to help other ladies with their skates.
Rising from the bench, Wilhelmina took the arm Permilia offered her, and together the two ladies made their way through the snow and onto the ice.
Smiling as ladies and gentlemen glided past them with cheeks rosy from the cold air, Wilhelmina moved into motion, keeping to the very edge of the lake until she found her balance. Increasing her speed as her confidence improved, she linked her arm with Permilia, and with their glides matching, they moved toward the center of the lake. Enjoying the breeze flowing over her, she searched the crowd, slowing to an immediate stop when a curious sight met her eyes.
Sitting on the ice in the very middle of the lake was none other than Edgar, his legs stretched out in front of him while a large gentleman Wilhelmina assumed was the mysterious Mr. Sinclair lounged on the ice next to him.
Shaking her head, she tugged Permilia in Edgar’s direction, frowning when Permilia brought them to a stop a mere second later and unlinked their arms.
“It may be for the best for you to do this on your own,” Permilia said.
“You don’t want to see how this ends?”