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“Like you did me.”
“Yes, though you already knew what you were doing.”
He hadn’t known quite as much as he’d thought. “You still taught me plenty.”
She nodded. “But I learned from you too. Have you considered Marc might have something to teach you?”
“I don’t think—”
Clarice held up a hand. “I don’t necessarily mean about tailoring.”
Blowjob techniques? She probably didn’t mean that either. “I hate those cutesy little life lessons.”
“You need them anyway, or better yet, a good kick in the ass.”
Darius sighed. “Why do I put up with you?”
“Because I love you and you love me back. You have a dangerous lack of caring people in your life.”
She was right. Other than clients, his primary human contact was with men he wanted to fuck and then send on their way. But friends could be even more unreliable than lovers. He’d learned that lesson well. When your friends sided with the shitgibbon who’d done nothing but lie to you for two years, you realized they weren’t really friends after all.
But that was a long time ago, and in the end, it spurred him on to start his own business.
“Promise me you’ll at least think about what I’m saying.”
Darius didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. “All right.”
“And promise me you won’t seduce that boy.”
Too late. “That boy worked as an escort.”
“Seriously? I wonder how much he charged.”
Darius was glad he didn’t have food in his mouth. He would’ve spewed it all over the table. “Did you really just ask that?”
Clarice shrugged. “I’m just thinking he could earn a lot.”
“But you don’t think I should seduce him?”
Clarice made a face that said she was reconsidering. “Maybe he should seduce you.”
“But—”
“Maybe he could convince you to stop finding a different man every weekend.”
Darius was not having this conversation. “Clarice, I know you care, and you’re right that I need to allow Marc to help me more. But I’m not going to discuss my sex life with you.”
“Or your love life.”
“You know my feelings on that subject.”
“That you want to die bitter and alone.”
He slid back from the table. “Clarice, that’s enough.”
She laid a hand over his. “Calm down. How about this: I won’t ask you about him if you’ll promise to give him more responsibilities.”
“Let me make sure I understand you correctly. You won’t ask about him. At all?”
“Only if you bring him up first.”
Darius studied her. “What’s the catch?”
“Why would there be a catch?”
“Because you love meddling in my life.”
She sighed. “Sometimes I have to take care of you because you don’t take care of yourself.”
That was one way to put it. “I run my own business. I pay my bills. I have an apartment that actually looks like an adult lives in it.”
She simply glared at him.
“Fine. I agree to your bargain.”
She beamed at him. “Lovely.”
“You act like you’ve won something.”
“Not at all. Just remember, when you need to talk to me, I’m always here.”
“I know that, but—”
“No buts. I need to get going. I’ve got about sixty errands to do and a casserole to make for the church supper tonight. I don’t suppose you’d like to—”
“No! No church suppers, not even as a favor to you.”
She sighed. “Fine.”
She stood and kissed him on the cheek, and then she sashayed off, looking utterly pleased with herself.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Darius leaned away from the sewing machine and tried to work out the kinks in his back.
He sensed Marc watching him, so he raised his arms in an extended stretch, knowing Marc wouldn’t be able to look away.
“Um…” Marc said.
“Yes?” It wasn’t the end of the day yet, but they didn’t have any more clients. Darius had no intention of saying no if Marc proposed something filthy.
“I was wondering if I could use the workroom after we close today and maybe a few other nights this week.”
Darius studied him. “For what?”
“Kathryn has a potential theater job for me, but I need to show them a few sample costumes. I also have some designs I’d like to work up to sell online.”
“And you want to work on those here?” Darius had no problem with him using the workroom, but he intended to make a bargain.
“I brought my own materials. I don’t have the best equipment at home, and—”
“If you want to work here, then you have to show me.”
“Show you what?”
Darius gestured toward Marc’s bag, where Marc had stuck his sketchbook after lunch. “Your designs; all of them.”
Marc frowned. “A lot of them are shit. There are only a few I want to—”
“Stop being so fucking shy. It doesn’t suit you.”
Marc glared at him, which made Darius want to bend him over even more than he already did. Focus.
“Do we have a deal?”
“I show you the sketches, and I can use the workroom?”
“That’s right. I might exact some other payment too.” He winked at Marc.
Marc’s cheeks pinkened, which was fucking hot. A man as experienced as Marc was should never blush, so Darius fucking loved that he could make that happen. Good thing Darius had plenty more work to do, because he had no intention of leaving before Marc did. They’d yet to fuck with Marc doubled over the back of the couch. Tonight was going to be the night.
