Page 6 of British Daddy to Go

3

Maggie

“This is a very high profile client, Maggie,” my boss explains once again as he leads me to the dressing room. “I have to know that you’re up for the job.”

“I promise, I can do this.”

He stops to study me. I hope he doesn’t notice my shaking hands or that my heart is beating far too fast.

“I’m trusting you on this.”

Roger continues into the dressing room area, where the customer from earlier is waiting on a pedestal. The dark-haired man turns to face us. His eyes light up in recognition when he sees me. I guess he did notice me when I was spying earlier. Is it possible he requested me specifically, then?

No, that can’t be what happened. A guy who looks like a black-haired Adonis wouldn’t want a girl like me measuring all of his intimate spaces. He probably asked for a young tailor because he didn’t want one of the older women messing up his measurements. The tape has small numbers that can be hard for the more seasoned tailors to read.

“This is Maggie!” Roger says. His voice is higher than before. I didn’t realize that was possible. “She’s going to get you all measured up!”

Roger adds a bow at the end of his final sentence. The guy looks hot and powerful, but he doesn’t look like royalty to me. I don’t know why my boss keeps bowing in front of him.

The tall stranger eyes me. “Thank you, Roger.”

Oh God, that accent! I could listen to him talk for hours. I’ve never met anyone in real life with a British accent. It makes him even hotter.

“Go ahead, Maggie, get started!”

“Of course,” I say. I open up the measuring tape with nervous hands and take a few steps toward the pedestal. “I’ll start with your arms.”

“Maggie?” Roger asks from behind me. “Do you have the measurement sheet?”

I nearly drop the tape. “No, sir, I forgot to grab it.”

“It’s okay!” he trills. To the customer, he adds, “She’s brand new, like I told you. I brought the paper in case she forgot.”

“How prepared you are,” the customer says. “How about we get to it, then?”

“Of course, of course!” Roger tells him. “Go ahead, Maggie. Be sure to write down every measurement!”

I hold up the tape again and get in a full arm measurement without freaking out. The customer smells like pine and some expensive cologne I can’t place. For all I know, it could be a custom scent made by Calvin Klein especially for him.

Roger watches over my shoulder as I take measurements. “Measure everything twice, Maggie!”

My eyes meet the customer’s and find an amused look on his face. He watches Roger circle us like he’s some kind of bird and we’re his nest.

“Mr. Jones needs this suit to be perfect in just a few weeks, so we won’t have much time to get it resized if you make any mistakes.”

“She looks to be doing just fine, Roger,” the customer – Mr. Jones – tells my boss. “And please, call me Sean.”

Sean stands straight the entire time. He’s done this before, probably a thousand times. I wonder if he ever wears the same suit twice or if he gets rid of them after an event. Would I be less attracted to him if he was a use-it-and-lose-it kind of guy?

I take in his face as I measure his neck. His jaw is angular, and his eyes are mysterious. There’s a crook in his nose, so he probably broke it when he was younger. I have a similar bump from an unfortunate encounter with a dryer door at the laundromat when I was seven.

I don’t think I’d fall less for his face if the man lived up to traditional rich stereotypes. A lot can be forgiven when you look like a statue and talk like a king.

“Maggie, be sure to measure the shoulders.”

“Yes, of course.” Roger’s reminder is welcome this time. I’d forgotten to measure the width of Sean’s shoulders. This measurement finishes the upper body, which means I have to move lower.

Sean watches my shaking hands attempt to wrap the tape around his slender hips.