Hiring Mr. Darcy - Valerie Bowman Page 0,28

which was so endearing I couldn’t stand it. “Mr. Hanson,” he said in a formal tone. “A pleasure.”

I had to look away and pretend I was staring at something across the shop, my fist covering my lips.

Mitchell raised his brows and looked at me. “Ooh, gorgeous and polite. I think we have a winner here, Miss Meggie. Not to mention he looks exactly like Darcy. Be still my heart.”

Oh, great. Now Mitchell was in love with him too. Just like the waitress. I couldn’t take this man anywhere without him stealing hearts. I tugged on the lapels of my navy blue blazer, determined to be business-like today after blurting out far too much last night about Lacey Lewis and half-ass diets. “I’ve already told Mitchell everything we need for you, Jeremy. We just have to pick out fabrics that, er, complement your coloring.”

Suddenly it felt very intimate to be discussing Jeremy’s coloring. I was trying to recover from the blush heating my cheeks when Mitchell leaned over and, in a stage-whisper, said, “You told me he was handsome, sister, but you didn’t say he was this handsome.”

Before I could scowl at him, a small white dog came trotting out from behind the counter. The Maltese sidled up to Mitchell’s leg and he scooped her up in one arm, petting her back.

“Who’s that?” Jeremy asked, pointing to the dog.

“This is my bebe, Ms. Julia Sugarbaker.”

“Oh, like from that TV show, Designing Women?” Jeremy asked.

“Exactly like that,” Mitchell replied, his eyes widening with obvious respect.

I, too, was impressed. There weren’t many straight men of my acquaintance who knew who Julia Sugarbaker was.

“My mom loved that show,” Jeremy said, as if he could sense we were waiting for an explanation. “I see your Ms. Julia wears a scarf, too,” Jeremy pointed out.

It was true. Just like her namesake often did in the show, Ms. Julia wore a tiny but fabulous scarf around her neck that Mitchell, of course, had sewn for her to fit perfectly. At the moment, however, I was less concerned with Ms. Julia’s scarf and more concerned with the fact that Mitchell had just embarrassed the everlasting crap out of me in front of Jeremy. I had told him that Jeremy was handsome. Handsome and taller than Harrison. Mitchell knew Harrison. He had made his clothing too, clothing that I wished I had not helped design, because now Mitchell had to make an entirely new wardrobe that would not only rival Harrison’s, but would beat it. And while he’d had months to create Harrison’s looks, he only had two weeks to create Jeremy’s.

“I’ll be back in a moment, y’all,” Mitchell tossed over his shoulder. That was one of Mitchell’s quirks. He took breaks whenever he felt like it. “Ms. Julia needs her anti-anxiety meds.” He headed behind the counter and toward the back room with his dog in his arms. “Don’t worry,” he added in a singsong voice as he went, “now that I’ve seen him, I have some excellent ideas.”

Mitchell disappeared and I was left to stand awkwardly next to Jeremy in the wake of the handsome remark.

He wasted no time. “So, you think I’m handsome?”

I stuck my nose in the air. “Don’t be conceited.”

“Who’s conceited? Mitchell said you said it.”

“It’s unsporting of you to point it out.”

Still smiling, Jeremy folded his arms behind his back and strolled behind the counter, where he picked up a top hat and lowered it onto his head. He jauntily cocked it to the side with the flick of one finger. “Do I look like Beau Brummel?”

Did he Google that too? But it made me laugh. “Not yet. You need a cravat. You shouldn’t be back there, you know.” I nodded toward the counter.

“Who’s gonna tell on me?” he replied, a challenging sparkle in his eye.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

“You never skipped school, did you?” He leaned his elbows on the counter and contemplated me.

I was a nerd. Of course I never skipped school. “How did you know?”

“You’re not the only one who can judge a book by its cover.”

I paused in my study of a bolt of emerald satin. “What?” I spun around to face him and narrowed my eyes on him. “Really?”

“That’s right. I can read you like a book.” He pushed the top hat down farther on his head.

“Oh, really?” I went back to studying the satin, but I was barely paying attention to it. Instead I was trying to sound nonchalant when I was actually slightly