Well-Tailored (Thorne and Dash 4)

Marc pressed his lips together, obviously trying not to laugh. The last thing Darius needed was Marc and Clarice teaming up against him.

“I actually have to be home soon,” Kathryn said. Bless her. “It was lovely meeting you, Clarice.”

“And you.” She acted as sweet and innocent as could be.

Kathryn turned to Darius. “If you’d like to contribute some of your time again, I’m working on another fundraiser for the art museum.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“It could be great for business; most of our donors find an increase in sales in the months following the auction.”

“Say yes,” Clarice insisted. Then she turned to Kathryn. “He’s terrible at marketing.”

“I’ll be persistent,” Kathryn said. Then she patted Darius’s arm. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Marc waved as he walked away with Kathryn. “See you Monday.”

“Right. Monday.”

“Mmmhmm,” Clarice said after they’d walked away. Darius did not like her tone.

“What?”

“You’ve got it bad for that boy.”

“Why would you say that?”

“You’re all flustered; you’re never like that around men.”

“Hmpf. I was my usual charming self.”

“Your usual self is a controlling bastard with a mouth like a drunken sailor.”

She had him there.

“You were perfectly charming with Kathryn, but you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to eye-fuck that boy or avoid him.”

Darius choked. Clarice should never use the term eye-fuck again.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you get up to.”

He started to say he didn’t get up to anything with Marc, but Clarice could spot that lie from a mile away.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get some food.”

Once they were through the line and seated, Clarice took a long sip of coffee and then nailed him with her gaze.

He felt like a five-year-old about to be scolded for tracking mud all over the carpet.

“Why did you hesitate to take Kathryn up on her offer?”

At least this was an easier subject than Marc. “I’ve got a backlog of business. I don’t want to promise something that will be hard to deliver.”

“When you worked with Kathryn on a promotion before, you said it was a great way to bring in new clients.”

“My business is going just fine.”

“It could be doing better if you worked at it.”

“Then I’d have more work than I could do.”

“And God forbid you allow someone else to actually help you.”

“Marc is helping.”

“I’m sure he’s doing really important tasks like holding pins and recording measurements.”

Did she have a spy camera in the shop? “He does the hems and repairs.”

She snorted. “A child could do that.”

“Not to my standards.”

She glared at him. “You could have as a child.”

“I’m special.”

“You are, but not as much as you think.”

He was saved from further grief by the arrival of their food.

“Can we just eat and not argue?” he asked when the server walked away.

Clarice watched him over the rim of her coffee cup. “I never like arguing while I eat. It’s terrible for the digestion. But when certain people won’t return my calls, I have to talk when I can.”

He started to protest, but she shook her head.

“Eat up, and then we’ll talk more about this young man you’ve hired, who can surely do more than sew a hem.”

Dear God, couldn’t he. An image of Marc straddling him for sixty-nine popped into his head. Motherfucker, he did not need to think about that now.

“Are you feeling okay?” Clarice asked.

“I…yes. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. But you’ll be better with some food in you.”

Darius had been starving when he’d left his apartment. For all that Clarice liked to bitch about him lying around in bed, he rarely slept as late as he had that day, and he always woke up hungry. But Clarice’s threat to force more info out of him about Marc had dampened his appetite. He’d force himself to eat, though. He didn’t need to give Clarice one more thing to scold him about. As he took a bite of his bacon, egg, and cheese bagel, he realized she was studying him rather than eating her own sandwich.

“You really are upset over this, aren’t you?”

“Over what? You bitching at me? I thought we were going to eat in peace.”

“No, this boy of yours; and it’s hard to be quiet when I’m worried about you.”

“Marc is my employee, and he is doing an excellent job. I’m not worried about him at all.”

“I bet you haven’t told him that.”

Darius sniffed. “I have actually, but I don’t need to praise him constantly and get him slacking off because he thinks he impressed me enough.”

“Not all young people lack a work ethic.”

“No, just the last several I’ve hired.”

Clarice narrowed her eyes. “Two of them wouldn’t work; the others you ran off.”

“I did not. Why do people keep saying that?”

“See? I’m not the only one.” Clarice gestured as if including everyone in Ivan’s in her statement.

Darius scowled at her.

“You’ve got to train him and give him more responsibilities.”