And why wouldn’t they both be having a good time together? Indy was a gem come to life, and Mr. Guidry made my heart race every single day. They would be a breathtaking couple.
Mr. Guidry turned toward me and gave a little bow. “I received your text and here I am. I didn’t know there were bespoke clothing shops that worked so late.”
Indy tapped Mr. Guidry on the elbow. “I stayed open for you, sir, and boy am I glad I did.”
Mr. Guidry chuckled, but he cut a look at me and cleared his throat. His gray eyes captured me, and I couldn’t look away. “Mr. Baranov, about this evening—”
“I apologize for my outburst.” Misery swamped me. I really couldn’t handle any more embarrassment tonight, and I wanted to forget everything that had happened.
Indy’s eyebrows rose, and then he snatched a piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it like a teeny white truce flag. “Maurice, I’m going to put your numbers in my filing system. I’ll be right back.” He waggled his eyebrows at me and went through a small door to the right of the mirrors. It was obvious he was giving us a second to ourselves, and I both appreciated the gesture and loathed any conversation that would be forthcoming.
Mr. Guidry came over and stopped close to my side. I had to glance up into his face. He was taller than me by about five inches, and usually I enjoyed his size, but right now I just felt dumb and was having trouble taking pleasure in anything. His strong jaw hardened. “After we’re finished, may I buy you a drink to apologize, since we’re both still out and about? Surely this won’t take long.”
His cologne smelled fresh, and I didn’t know if he kept some in his office, but I couldn’t get enough of it as he took another small step closer to me and pursed his lips, as if he was mentally willing me to say yes.
“Uh, you don’t want to do that. It’s fine. I’m not upset,” I murmured.
“I would very much enjoy being out with you. Why would you say that?” He hooked his thumb in his jacket pocket and for all the world looked as if he’d leaped off one of the fashion-magazine covers—real magazines, not the rag I wrote for—spread out on the coffee tables near the couches.
“I didn’t mean to cause problems today.”
Mr. Guidry rested his hand on my shoulder, a light, warm weight I’d gotten used to feeling occasionally. He was a visceral person. “You didn’t.” He gave my shoulder a small squeeze.
“Numbers in!” Indy said loudly as he came rushing back into the room. “Okay, gents. You—” He pointed at Mr. Guidry. “—up there. Shoes off.”
Mr. Guidry complied, getting ready to replace me on the podium in front of the mirrors, while Indy shoved a heavy-duty black binder into my hands that had to weigh at least twenty pounds. I let out an “oomph.”
He snickered. “Cloth swatches—” He tapped the binder. “—for the winter season. Pick your favorites. Mr. Guidry, how many suits am I making?” He sashayed toward my boss with the measuring tape in his hands again.
My heart thudded faster because I truly did love picking out clothes, and I already had an idea of what colors I would like to see on Mr. Guidry later in the year. “Do you want a full winter wardrobe, sir?”
Mr. Guidry shrugged, the way I knew he would. He had to look good because he met with clients, but I got the idea he would wear literally anything if I wasn’t around to pick things out for him. “Whatever you think is best, Mr. Baranov. You have a good eye for this sort of thing.”
Any anger that was left over from earlier melted away at the compliment, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. Indy winked at me from his spot behind Mr. Guidry where he was measuring across his shoulders. I sat down on the closest leather couch and browsed the cloth swatches while Indy measured. He was frowning and scribbling down numbers in a pocket notebook, but I couldn’t help but squirm inside at the sight of him putting his hands all over Mr. Guidry, the same way he had me. It had to be done to get the numbers, but it seemed so intimate.
I picked out too many colors and scowled at the book as I flipped between them all. “Ten suits, sir?” I asked and shook my head.
He chuckled. “Better make it thirteen because I’m bound to have winter weddings. Oh, and I want one for Christmas, and a different one for New Year’s. There are always events and parties.”
Indy’s eyes went wide as he stared at me from where he was on the floor doing the same foot measurement that had almost made me tumble onto my butt. His mouth popped open, and when he glanced up at Mr. Guidry, I thought he might kiss the foot he was holding. I’d known Indy from around the city for a while, but this was the first time I’d spent more than a few minutes with the man, and I simultaneously wanted to laugh and smack him.
Indy stood smoothly and smiled. “You know, I tailor shirts, too. That way you get a perfect fit. You really should have a few to go with all those nice new suits.”
Mr. Guidry grunted.
“I would love that,” I said. God, cloth stretched perfectly across my boss’s chest?Yes, please.
“Fine,” Mr. Guidry said with a shrug, but he smiled at me as Indy took a few more measurements.
“I need to get this shirt off you for a minute, then,” Indy said, and he looked like a kid in a candy store.
Mr. Guidry shrugged again, and I nearly swallowed my tongue as he unbuttoned his shirt and his cut chest and abs came into view. He wasn’t huge from working out but very toned. Maybe he was a swimmer? I already had a semi by the time I turned my back on him. The tuft of salt-and-pepper curls in the center of his chest would be burned in my brain forever.
About ten minutes later I was thankfully under control and we were wrapping up. Indy had noted all the selections I’d made, and double- and triple-confirmed everything so there would be no mistakes. He took my email—“So I can run my designs past the real decision maker. You realize this could take up to three months? Yes? Good!”—and then Mr. Guidry and I were unceremoniously ushered out the front door and the lock was turned behind us.
Mr. Guidry laughed while I stared up at a wrought iron lamppost with a hanging basket of pink teacup roses attached to it. The blooms spilled down over the edge of the mossy container, and I suspected they were something Indy’s shop maintained. A group of people out for the night walked by us on the sidewalk, talking and laughing, the women in nice summer dresses, and the men in jeans and T-shirts, not trying too hard. Floral perfume and cologne tangled in the air behind them. Across the street, low, sexy live music spilled out as the door opened on a bar with no name on the facade. The neon signs advertising various brands of alcohol in the windows made it clear you could drink there.
Mr. Guidry smiled, and an uncontrollable awkwardness welled up inside me as he gazed into my eyes. I shoved my glasses up the bridge of my nose. I always felt this way when I had nothing I should be doing around him. I was anxious and wasn’t sure why. He’d never, ever yelled at me, unlike one or two other bosses I’d had before him. I opened my mouth, then closed it again, attempting to work up the courage to say something—anything—when Mr. Guidry touched my elbow.
