Page 17 of Tailored for You

“Well, what do we have here?” Serena jumped back, putting space between us.

Charles strutted in like he owned the place.

He didn’t. I did. The lock downstairs just became my top priority.

I stood in front of Serena, as I did at the coffee shop. Whatever Charles came here to start, I’d be her line of defense. Harper’s giggles echoed from the open door to their makeshift apartment, completely unaware that her father was fifteen feet away.

Serena elbowed me out of the way. I shifted to give her more room, but not enough to brush past me entirely.

Serena stared at her ex-husband, so angry, for a moment, I thought she was going to attack him.

Mia ragazza.

CHAPTER 6

Serena

This wasn’t real. It had to be a figment of my imagination.

I could count on one hand the number of times Charles willingly came to my apartment since we divorced four years ago. Each time he did, though, it upended my world.

Whatever he was here for now was in retaliation for the coffee shop. He was never one to be slighted or one-upped by someone he didn’t know.

I glanced at Harper, who was watching herself dance in the three-way mirror. I leaned over, turning the volume up on the speakers a few decibels.

Charles was here for a fight; I knew it in my bones. Harper shouldn’t have to see or hear any of this.

Charles still viewed me as his, even though I never was. I was his girl of the moment who couldn’t get a clue and ended up pregnant, married, and alone. My family was never going to help me when times got tough.

Once I turned eighteen, they’d been largely absent. A few calls here or there, mostly money-related, with my mom, who rarely asked after Harper. Which was fine with me.

I was better off without my mother’s constant judgment and ridicule.

In fact, I had a distinct memory of my mother lecturing me about how men will be men when Charles’ many infidelities came to light. He didn’t even care that I filed, only about how it made him look.

“Hi,” I said, attempting to be cordial. Nerves wracked me as I prepared for Charles to deliver something awful on my doorstep. “What brings you by?”

“Can’t a guy check on his girls?” Charles smiled—the same smile he'd given me when he threatened full custody.

Stay calm. This is what he does.

“No. We aren’t your girls. Why are you barging into my studio and disrupting our day?” I asked. This wasn’t the first time Charles barged in, demanding to be acknowledged, but it was time I let him know he was crossing boundaries.

“I wanted to have a word.” He took a step closer, and Enzo blocked my view with his big body. Again.

Didn’t he understand that the more he goaded Charles, the worse this would be for everyone? It didn’t matter that Minnie and Charles Senior supported me; I just wanted Charles to go away, and the easiest way to do that was to pacify him.

Nudging Enzo, I moved through the small space he gave me and pointed to an open space next to a mannequin.

Taking a deep breath, I turned back to Charles. I maintained my calm demeanor because Charles thrived on getting reactions from me. “Now, why are you here?”

His fake smile dropped. “Is it a thing for you? Fucking your clients?” He took a step closer—his way of trying to intimidate me with his size.

Yes, I’d been hired to tailor both men’s suits, but Charles was the one I’d made the mistake of taking beyond a professional relationship into an intimate one.

I sized Charles up and couldn’t help but compare him to Enzo.

Charles didn’t measure up in any sense of the word.