AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And it began the process of Markus making Harry try on jacket after jacket until the third one fit the best. Margot and Markus took turns looking him over each time, easily determining that the third jacket was the one.
Even though I had no clue about suits, every single jacket looked great on him.
“Do you have anything in blue?” Margot asked, studying Harry as if he were a bug under a microscope. He took it like a champ, only looking mildly freaked under her imposing stare. “Look at that complexion. And the hair color. What about the navy, Markus?”
“We have a navy in stock in his size,” he replied happily. “I can go grab the set for you.”
“Wait,” I called, leaning forward. I’d been lounging once again on a chair, but now leaned my elbows onto my knees. “Why not black?”
Margot looked at me as if she’d forgotten I was there. “Because yellow and navy go perfectly together, and you’re going to wear that yellow dress you like.”
“Uh, says who?” That dress wasn’t one Mom liked. She said it looked too baggy on me, didn’t show my curves well—maybe that was precisely the reason I liked it so much. But Mom was already getting one heart attack Saturday night. She didn’t need two.
“Ijust said. Don’t you listen?” Margot turned back to the boys. “Navy. It’ll go so well with your eyes, Harry.”
He gave a dutiful nod. “You’re the boss.”
Before Markus went to get the navy suit jacket, though, he bent down and started taking the measurements for Harry’s pants. He placed the measuring tape along the length of Harry’s leg, marking down numbers on his hand as he went. Once he finished, he hurried off to a back room to find something close to Harry’s size.
“It’s weird,” Harry said, keeping his voice hushed. “I feel like I’m in a spy movie.”
Margot lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t remember spy movies being so boring.”
Harry smiled at that, totally unfazed by Margot’s deadpan personality. “This is the part before the bad guys break in, of course.”
“Here.” Markus passed Harry an assortment of clothing on hangers, coming back into the room in a flurry of movement. “Try these on. They won’t fit exactly—we’ll tailor it to your measurements, of course—but it should give us a general idea of the fit.”
Harry looked at me, lifting the garments a little. “Wish me luck.”
Once he ducked in a dressing room, Margot came and sat down on a chair beside me, laying her hands on her knees. “So. The tattoo.”
“What about it?”
“It’s very visible.” She stared at me intently. “Everyone will see it.”
Everyone, she said, but I could read between the lines.Your parents. “It’s not like we can laser it off, Margot.”
“I didn’t know if you wanted to cover it up. They have high-necked shirts.”
A stone settled in my stomach, heavy and hard. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to bring him?” I whispered, afraid he would overhear. “You know how people are.”
“Who cares if they think Harry is a hooligan and I’mtoo masculine. They’re old and probably haven’t had sex in thirty years. At least not with their spouses.”
I tried to keep the laugh at bay, but it snuck out in a snort. “Jeez, don’t hold back.”
She waved a hand at me, the intensity in her voice gone. “I’m just saying. Bring Harry. Flaunt him. Be proud of the life you live, Destelle, and it’ll be okay.”
“But Harry—”
“Is a big boy. I get the impression that he can hold his own.” And then her expression turned a bit more devious. “Maybe Saturday night,youcould hold—”
“What do you guys think?” Harry stepped out of the changing room then, dressed in a sleek-fitting navy suit, his red hair loose and touching the collar. There were faint, darker blue lines in the suit to add dimension, and it really flattered his figure. He hadn’t buttoned the jacket or the vest, but came out having his head down, red wisps in his eyes.
It was suddenly hard to breathe or think of anything else but him. The suit jacket came down perfectly to his wrists, fitting his arms, smoothing over his shoulders. The collar at his throat fit nicely, not too tightly, his tattoo in full view.
I knew one thing for sure: Harry Russo in a suit was probably the hottest thing I’d seen in my life.
Harry smiled a little as he turned to face me fully, fingers still on the buttons. “Does it look okay?”
