Page 37 of Best Man Speaking

“It’s great to meet you too. You have a stunning store, and I have a soft spot for anyone who’s ready to put a pin in Marcus.” Her grin is contagious, and Andrea’s eyes light up in interest.

“I spoke to Erica just before you arrived. She mentioned a close eye might have to be kept on the both of you. Something about destructive temperaments?”

I watch as she raises an eyebrow at Hallie, who has the grace to laugh and blush good-naturedly.

Thankfully, Andrea doesn’t say anything further and makes her way over to a few garment bags hanging near the changing spaces. “All right, Marcus, you’re up first. Get in there and drop your pants.”

Chapter Eleven

Hallie

“Itake it from Erica that you’ve known Julian and Marcus since they were kids?” Andrea asks.

Her eyes meet mine in the mirror behind the small platform Marcus is to stand on.

“I’ve known them for longer than I care to admit these days. I feel old just thinking about it,” I say diplomatically, watching the way she and Cara work seamlessly together as they prepare their creative space.

“You’re telling me. The fact I’ve had Cara here for two years already blows my mind, and now Marcus says he’s found a second apprentice for me?” She sighs dramatically. “Teenagers make me feel old.”

“You mean you’re grateful for the sharp eyesight and quick wit that comes with hiring youth?” Cara quips, raising a dark brow at her employer. With her high-waisted, wide-legged jeans and ribbed sweater, she looks like a 1970s dream in comparison to her sleek, 1950s-styled boss.

Andrea gives her a friendly nudge with her shoulder. “What are we going to do with someone else on board? Do you think they’ll cope with our sarcasm?”

“You never know, Andie. He might meet the two of you and run for the hills if given half a chance,” Marcus throws in as he makes his way out of his fitting room. “I know I probably would.”

Suddenly, I’m grateful I don’t have to speak because the proverbial cat seems to have caught hold of my tongue. The suit is formal black and made to fit like a glove. I have no idea what adjustments Andrea wants to make, as I think changing a thing about it would be a crime. Desire hits me low in my belly as I take in the broad set of his shoulders before using the strategically placed mirrors to check out his front. It’s in the reflection that I catch Andrea’s knowing gaze and the small smile on Cara’s lips as she pulls her long, black braids back into an orange scrunchie. I avert my eyes from the mirror, refusing to see if I’d been caught looking by Marcus himself.

“Did you sayhe? Marcus, did you miss the sign on the door that says O’Byrne & Daughters?” Andrea’s mock outrage is written all over her face. “Wait. You made the sign. You couldn’t have missed it.”

“Andie, are you really telling me you’re going to refuse a young guy who wants nothing more than to learn from you?” Marcus challenges playfully, shifting in his suit jacket and adjusting his collar.

My mouth waters, and my resolve weakens at the sight.

“You know I wouldn’t,” Andrea says as she straightens the lapels on his jacket, “but I do like it when you’re dressed fancy and playing white knight. It makes a nice change for someone other than just myself and a bunch of young people to see it.”

“Hey, Cara, do you mind closing your eyes for a second?” Marcus asks kindly.

“No worries, Mr. Scott.” Cara lifts a hand to cover her eyes as he turns to quickly flip Andrea the middle finger.

“Okay, we’re good to go.”

“Do you mind if I get started on your jacket, Mr. Scott?” Cara asks, both eyes now uncovered.

“Go for it,” Marcus answers clearly and kindly.

Cara steps in close, measuring tape in hand.

“It’s our store policy—we ask people before we touch them. Verbal consent, wherever we can get it. ThatFriendsepisode scared me as an apprentice. Poor Joey,” explains Andrea, shaking her head as she makes her way over to me with a different garment bag draped over her arm. “Now, what’ve I got for you! Erica gave me an estimate of your measurements when she first came in with Julian to talk about the suits for the wedding.”

I raise my brow at this, wondering just what she could’ve said about me that added such inspiration. I’m hustled toward another of the fitting rooms, so I don’t have time to ask any further questions.

“Call me through once you have it on, and I’ll do up the back for you,” finishes Andrea.

Then she pulls the curtain closed, leaving me in the quiet space.

I unzip the pale, cream-colored garment bag.

My heart squeezes inside my chest with a sudden sweep of emotion, which I push down. It’s not healthy, but if I don’t want to cry in the next fifteen minutes, it’s going to have to do.

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