Chapter Six

Leah

“It’s just suit-shopping with your boss,” I told myself as I stared in the full-length mirror.

So did this require wearing slacks or a dress?

Or maybe neither, and I should go for leggings and a tunic?

Ugh, I was overthinking this. It was just Sean. Not some guy I had to impress.

Hell, I could have probably just worn the palazzo pants and tartan sweater that I had on for my trip into the office that day, and he wouldn’t even care. Or maybe even the band shirt and yoga pants I slept in.

I let out a deep breath, grabbing a discarded leather jacket from the pile, putting it back on.

Jeans. Jacket. Plain white tee. Heels. That said sort of professional and not trying too hard, right?

Dammit. I needed to stop worrying about impressing anyone. No one would be judging me at the stores. They’d just be looking at the bearded stunner with me.

There I went, thinking about him again and an outfit change.

Luckily, my overthinking was interrupted by a knock at the door.

The only person who would be coming in would be Sean, and he probably didn’t need to see that I’d spent the last hour figuring out what to wear instead of working on his calendar.

“Just a minute,” I called, grabbing my discarded pants, underwear, bras, and all the different tubes of lipstick I’d gone through before deciding on “True Love’s First Kiss.”

Mid pick-up, the door opened with Sean standing there, mouth open.

“What are you doing?” he asked, walking into the room before bending over and grabbing some of my discarded lipsticks.

I huffed, dropping my heap of clothes onto the couch. Why did he have to go and start riffling my things? “Well, I was cleaning up my stuff. But I thought maybe you’d be like a normal guy and just text me you were here or something.”

“Thought I’d try and be a sort-of-gentleman,” he said, setting the lipstick on a table.

“Well, at least you’re trying something new. That’s good. That’s husband-talk right there.”

He blinked, stepping back a bit before a huge grin spread across his face. “I guess when you put it that way, maybe I should have brought flowers or something.”

“This isn’t a date. You don’t need to do that for me.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets, drawing a line with my shoe on the floor, because something in my heart sank as I said the words.

Damn, why did this guy have to make me like him?

We were just friends. A friend I was helping out by getting him a wife and figuring out what the hell he was doing with the Murphy business.

This is for your sister, Leah. Your family. Get him a wife, set everyone up. Don’t fall for him.

“So, are you ready to shop? This is kind of your thing, isn’t it? Styling?” he asked, waving his arm in the air between us.

“If you think this is styling, honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” I put my hands on my hips with a little extra sass.

He laughed, holding his hand out to me.

“Okay, honey, then show me style,” he said, adding a little more emphasis on the honey part with a smirk.

I stared at his hand, my palms sweating just thinking about taking it.

I grabbed my purse, slinging it over my shoulder before stuffing my hands back in my pockets. “Ready.”

…

I loved small boutiques and specialty stores.

There was something about knowing someone working at that specific store had likely handpicked each item with purpose.

So, when I was expecting a small tailor shop, passed down from generations, and instead walked into a fluorescent-lit department store, disappointment must have been written on my face.

“What? Smell something foul?” Sean asked, turning toward me.

“What? No. I mean nothing more than that normal department store funk of machine-pressed material and industrial-strength floor polish,” I said.

“Huh. Never noticed that smell.” He turned in a circle with his head back, loudly sniffing.

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” I asked, covering my mouth and trying to hold back a laugh that would encourage him further.

Damn, he was adorable in a geeky way.

Stop. Checking. Him. Out.

“Let’s just go get you a suit, crazy face.”

I waited for him to follow, but before he could even take a step toward me, a gaggle of girls approached with cell phones waved high.

“Are you Sean Murphy?” a small redhead with a mouthful of metal asked.

“I am,” he replied with that broad, dimpled grin.

The redhead and her friends all squealed before their mouths flapped a mile a minute and they took selfie after selfie with the broad man whose shoulders alone probably took up most of the photo.

He was good with people, especially screaming girls.

Where I tended to get frustrated with the same questions over and over, he just smiled, laughing and talking, taking photos with each girl like she was the most important person in the world.

This was why Becky had dealt with the customers and people, and I usually handled the stock. But I guess she was handling more than just customers.

The thought of stupid Becky, flipping her blond hair and smiling and nodding like she was there because she enjoyed it, not just so she could get in my ex’s pants, caused my neck to heat and the anger and hurt all spiral back to the forefront.

I froze, staring at a rack of folded sweaters, like the ones that Becky was spread on with my ex.

Shuddering, I tried to bring myself back to the present, but now my entire mood was soured.

I could have taken it out on Sean and told him we needed to go, but I wasn’t going to interrupt his moment. Who knows, maybe one of those girls was old enough to be married and they’d hit it off.

I guessed this was where my job was taking me, and it was time to do what I did best and look for a suit for my wife-needing boss.

Starting toward the men’s department, I ran my finger over the sleeve of a single-breasted blazer.

Not my type of thing, but maybe Sean wanted something like this. It said conservative office man, and maybe wedding guest.

“Can I help you?” A woman in a stiff black pantsuit asked, her lip curled as her eyes roamed over my outfit.

What the hell?

I’d shopped on Michigan Avenue dozens of times and never got this look. Maybe the lipstick was too much.

“Yes, I was just looking at this piece for my…well…my friend. But I don’t see a price on it,” I said, trying to ignore her questioning glare and the two other saleswomen approaching.

“I don’t think this would be your friend’s taste. It’s a very expensive number, but my coworkers can direct you over to the sales rack, or perhaps a nearby resale shop?” the woman asked, her head tilted as the other workers shook their heads in pity.

What?

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I swallowed hard.

I expected this from some of the high-end stores when I was in a Cosplay piece, but not from a department store in Dublin.

“Okay…your loss, then,” I muttered with a shrug, trying to tell myself that they just didn’t know any better.

That I wasn’t just a girl who could be cast aside.

Like my ex had.

And my business partner.

I sucked in a breath, willing my feelings not to get the best of me.

When I got around the corner, headed back toward the middle of the store, I spotted Sean, whose face fell as soon as he caught sight of me.

“Everything okay?” he asked, putting his hands on my shoulders.

I tried to ignore the electric zing his little caring touches sent through me and not sigh, letting myself lean into him.

“No, this department store isn’t going to work for shopping. We need to go somewhere else.”

I tried to dart around him, but he really was like a damn brick house, stepping in front of me, lightly squeezing my shoulders, and I tried to ignore the little goose bumps now prickling my skin. “Leah. I knew you didn’t want to be here by the expression on your face as soon as we came in, but I saw you go over to the suits. By that pout, I’m thinking it’s more than you just didn’t find a nice sports coat.”

I looked over my shoulder to see the women in the department were all talking, rolling their eyes, and not even paying attention to me.

Like I didn’t matter.

I wasn’t a sale to them.

I wasn’t anything.

Maybe it was too late for me to make an impression on anyone, but if I kept my job with Sean, then I’d have the salary to give my sister a better life. One where she could laugh at arrogant saleswomen.

“Can we try somewhere else?” I asked, trying not to let my voice squeak as I turned back to Sean.

He squeezed my shoulders again and nodded. “Yeah. I think we can do that.”

…

We headed out of the department store and down only a few blocks to a gorgeous brick building with glass windows framing mannequins in various poses wearing dapper suits.

As soon as we walked inside, the manly smell of cedar and leather took over my senses.

Wooden tables and hangers held suits of every style, and in the middle of it all, a large fireplace roared.

The whole thing was like my dream men’s boutique, and I swore I could have curled up on one of the chaises and lived there.

Especially when Sean sat me down in a said leather chaise, my fingers brushing along the buttery material beneath them.

“You. Sit. Enjoy.”

I raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help the smile forming on my face as the bundle of angry energy now turned into a nervous bubble. “Okay, caveman.”

“Hello, how can I help you today?” A short, balding man in a blue, fitted suit with glasses perched on his nose approached us.

Sean clasped his hands together, turning toward the man. “Hi, I’m looking for a suit for my brother’s wedding and work engagements, as well. So, a few suits.”

The man laughed. “Of course. I was hoping I’d eventually get the famous Sean Murphy here. It’s a pleasure to have a star in my store. My wife loves watching you on the telly. I don’t know if it’s for the games or that magazine spread.”

The man shook his head briskly, and Sean laughed.

I looked between the two men, wondering where all of this was going.

“Well, I’ll be sure to get you a few good stories in for your wife,” he said, then motioned toward me, so I sat up straighter, trying to appear poised, even though I was pretty sure the man saw me rubbing the seat with my hands like I was testing a melon at the grocery store.

“This here is Leah, my friend and assistant, who will get the final say on any suit I pick out. No matter what the price. And there is no budget here. As long as she likes it,” Sean continued.

The man blinked, sputtering a few words before he nodded. “Yes, Mr. Murphy, would you like Leah to accompany me to pick out some of the items, or should I bring a catalog?”

Sean looked back at me, winking, and I every part of me still resisting his charm flew away in that instant. “What would you prefer, mo gra?”

“A little bit of both,” I said, standing and trying to ignore the giddiness bubbling through me.

Not just because of his words and how he trusted me, but the little Irish term of endearment? Usually, it didn’t do anything for me, but this time it had me biting my lip and trying to focus on the here and now, and not a sappy daydream.

There were dozens of different styles of suits to choose from, so I looked at the beautiful jackets and pants instead of focusing on my smiling boss and the warm feeling fluttering through me.

I picked out a few different items, and the owner sent Sean back to the dressing room. After a few minutes, he emerged, and I had to suck in a deep breath.

The man was gorgeous, but when he was cleaned up in a fitted suit, molding to his well-built frame, it was like something out of an expensive cologne commercial. The ones I used to watch before I discovered GQ and could drool at men in expensive suits for free in the grocery store check-out.

“These will probably have to be tailored,” I said, running my hand along one of the jackets the owner brought out for me to look at, instead of looking at the stunning man, aka my boss, in front of me. “Do you have someone in-house? If not, I can probably do them.”

“You don’t need to do that, Leah. I’m sure they’ll fit just fine,” Sean said, rolling up the pant legs on a pair of tweed trousers. “See? Perfect.”

I laughed, shaking my head before kneeling to unroll his pant leg. “I’m actually surprised anything is long on you, but this would just be a simple fix. I could have it done in a few minutes with a sewing machine. Longer by hand.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” he asked, looking down at me.

I tried to keep my focus on his legs, but my gaze went up to meet his, my hands trembling. “I’m really bad at basketball.”

He smiled, and I licked my lips, trying not to focus on the fluttering in my stomach.

“We have a tailor on site, Mr. Murphy, and can have everything fitted for you within the week,” the owner said, knocking us out of whatever little moment we had.

“That’ll be great,” Sean said as the man knelt next to me, making a few lines on the pant legs with chalk.

I stood, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans.

Why the hell was this guy having this effect on me?

Sean and the man talked about a few more measurements, and after we checked out and stepped into the brisk night air, I barely even noticed that we were heading away from my apartment.

“I just have one more stop,” he said, putting his hand on my lower back.

“Um, okay.” I stiffened, trying not to lean into his touch.

He must have taken that as discomfort, because quickly, his hand was back at his side and we walked together in silence.

Instead of another shop, we went back toward the department store, Sean opening the door and looking at me.

“Um, did you forget something in here?” I asked, looking between him and the door.

“Just to tell off some snotty saleswomen who were gobshites to you,” he said with a grin like he just had the best idea in the world.

I sighed, my heart beating so loud I swore the whole town must hear it. “As nice as it is that you want to defend my honor, you don’t have to do that.”

He raised an eyebrow, letting the door slide from his hand and shut slowly. “Why not? I saw the way you walked away, and then those women looked at you like you were no better than the gum on the bottom of their shoe. They deserve to know that we just took their commission and spent it somewhere else.”

I shook my head. “As nice as your sentiment is, we really don’t need to give them the time of day. Trust me—people like that don’t consider us a blip on their radar, and nothing we say or do will change who they are.”

He took a step closer, and I tried to ignore the fluttering in my stomach from his nearness.

No. No. No. Just my boss. Not someone I’m going to have a moment with.

“Something tells me this isn’t just about the women in that store.”

I shook my head, turning in the other direction. “You don’t need to play therapist. I’m the one doing the intervention on you and your dating and fashion life.”

I started to walk away, but he caught up to me with only a few quick strides. “Hey, not trying to analyze you or anything. Hell, not sure I’d be smart enough to do that. If you don’t want to talk about what happened there, we won’t. We can just go get some food and pretend this never happened.”

“I’m not that hungry,” I murmured, hoping that would get him to stop digging into my feelings, because we weren’t here for me. This was about him finding a wife. I had nothing to do with it, other than helping him.

“Okay, so now you’re going to give me the silent treatment.”

I raised an eyebrow, glancing up at his smiling face and trying to keep my own mouth neutral, but just looking at those big blue eyes had my lips quirking. “All of a sudden you’re a woman expert and know my next move?”

“Well, I do know that after I drop you off at home, you’ll probably eat something like ramen, so you should just have dinner with me.”

My stomach had been growling the past hour, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “I’m not exactly up for a date.”

“Just as friends. For helping me out. My treat. And not pub food, either.”

“There are restaurants other than pubs here?” I asked

He laughed, a sound that made me smile even when I didn’t want to. “Tons. What are you in the mood for? Italian? I think there is even a Nepalese place around here.”

“Nepalese? Like Everest?” I asked, not sure I heard him right.

“Ah. Don’t think it’s open past lunch, though, or else I’d say you should try their tiger prawns.”

“Shoot.” I snapped my fingers. “And I was craving me some prawns.”

“Have you ever actually had one?” He raised his eyebrows, and even in the dim streetlights I swore his eyes were a swoony blue that I usually only saw in magazines.

Damn this charming Irish guy. He was probably going to take me out to dinner then think he could have me in his bed like he’d had who knew how many other girls.

But of course, none of those girls turned into a relationship for him, and that’s why he hired me to help him.

That was the thought that always burst my little Sean and lingering-feelings bubble and brought me to the present.

“Nope, but it doesn’t sound really appetizing either. Is this usually how you get girls to go out with you?”

He laughed again, a genuine sound that came from deep in his stomach and warmed my heart. “Yeah, and usually I end up taking them to the pub for dinner. Sometimes, though, I do get to that Nepalese place, and they’re impressed I can order. Then they start talking, and then we both realize that one of us likes rugby, and the other just likes to be seen with rugby guys.”

“Well…maybe that’s half the problem. Maybe you need a girl you have more in common with.”

“And how do I find that?” he asked, looking at me like I just showed him the most complicated math problem.

“Talk to her first. Getting to know her before you start making a move to date her usually works. Like, I was friends with my ex for years, then we started dating in high school because we were both working on sets for the school play,” I said, trying not to reminisce on the good times that had all been poisoned by his cheating that came afterward.

“So, I should take a girl to play rugby before dinner?” he asked.

“I mean, I guess that could work, but it’s probably hard to find a girl rugby player. Unless you wanted me to contact a woman’s rugby team. Does Ireland have one?”

He laughed again. “They do. You should come with me to a game sometime. Scope out the players and see if anyone is good for a future Mrs. Murphy.”

I shook my head. “I’m not really a sports girl, if you haven’t noticed. That’s my sister. She loves watching football, actually.”

“Didn’t know you had a sister.”

I nodded, smiling as I thought of my sister and the future she could have. A way better one than mine if I succeeded in helping Sean. “Yeah, Sophia. She’s a senior in high school, smart as Fallon, and sassy as me. If she wasn’t underage, I’d hook you up.”

“Very funny,” he said, stopping in front of a little brick building. “And funny that we’re now in front of my favorite Italian restaurant.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re the worst at subtlety. But if I agree to go in with you, this isn’t a date, okay? This is me trying to get to know what you’d want in a girl, and to make you a better date for someone.”

He smiled, and I had to mentally yell at the damn fluttering in my stomach. “Fair enough.”

I’d been to plenty of hole-in-the-wall Italian places back home, and even once to Maggiano’s for prom, but nothing was like this all-brick vault Sean brought me to.

The narrow corridor had only a few tables and a large wine rack at the far wall. It may have been a tiny place, but the cloth napkins and the fact there was a set menu said this was nothing like Tony’s pizzeria or Sal’s diner.

“What kind of wine do you like?” Sean asked as I took the seat across from him, the eager waiter looking between us expectantly. He was either expecting a big tip like Sean gave to the host, or he was wondering what two people with neck tattoos were doing in a place like this.

“I like the one in the white and pink box usually,” I said, trying not to gawk at the menu prices.

“Yeah, I’m not much of a wine guy, either.” He looked at the waiter. “What do you recommend?” The server rattled off a lot of information about what paired well with what food, and finally, Sean just agreed with what he suggested and ordered something that probably cost a lot more than I’d ever spent on anything.

“What about food-wise? I’ll tell you the pizza here isn’t like your usual American fair. I visited Connor at uni, and you Americans do know pizza, I will say that.”

“I just saw some prawns on this fancy food list. Maybe you’d like some, since you were talking them up,” I said, still scanning the menu for something that was less than ten euros. No such luck on that.

I didn’t want the guy to think I was trying to take advantage of him. I may have been staying at the apartment and helping him out, but I didn’t need handouts.

The waiter came with a bottle of red wine, pouring two glasses before turning to Sean and breaking the awkward silence. “Have you two made your decision with the menu?”

“You know, I think we’re both going to go with the bruschetta and the tiger prawns and scallops.”

Sean grinned at me, and I shook my head.

“You don’t need to order all of that. I’m fine with just, um, this house salad?”

He furrowed his brows. “You’re not just getting the cheapest thing on the menu. We’re getting the prawns and bruschetta.”

I narrowed my eyes in return, a cold wisp of air raising the hairs on the back of my neck. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I just did,” he said with a smirk, handing our menus to the waiter.

“I’ll put that order in right away.” The waiter stumbled, getting away from us as fast as his sensible shoes could take him.

“What was that shite about? I told you I was paying, and we were just talking about the prawns. Why did you have to get all upset?” Sean asked, his eyes so intently focused on me that I had to look away and take a big gulp of my wine.

The stuff went down smooth like a glass of fruit juice and I knew if this conversation was going to continue that I’d probably need more.

“Let’s cut to the chase, Seany boy.” I set my glass down, putting my elbows on the table and leaning in with my voice low.

“If we start doing things like dates, and you paying for me all of the time, we both know where that leads and how it can’t. We can be friends but nothing more.” Even as I said the words, they tasted funny on my tongue, like they weren’t what I was supposed to say.

He nodded solemnly as if he was thinking about what I said, and that bit of not talking twisted the knife that had already sliced its way into my gut.

“I’m just saying that I like you and your company. It’s nice to hang out with someone when I don’t have to worry about being anyone other than myself.”

“You should always be yourself.”

He frowned, his eyes cast down toward the table. “Myself doesn’t always get women. Well, not women who want to be wives, at least.”

The waiter approached our table before I could think of something to say, and instead of looking at Sean’s dimpled grin, I stared down at some of the largest shrimp I’d ever seen. At least I thought the gray things on my plate were shrimp. Freaking shrimp as big as my head.

“So…these are tiger prawns?” I asked, holding one up with my fork and inspecting it, welcoming the distraction from our conversation.

Sean laughed once the waiter was gone. “Ah.”

“Huh. I was expecting something different, I guess.”

“Disappointed?”

I met his dark blue eyes, trying to ignore the heat gathering in my neck and shooting a line straight to my core.

Dammit why did he have to be cute?

“No. Not at all.”

I took a bite of the succulent seafood then set it back down on my plate, chewing slowly before taking a sip of my drink.

“So what else can you tell me about yourself, Leah, besides you like to do an internet search before playing online word games,” Sean said, leaning his cheek in his hand as if I were the most interesting person in the world.

No one ever gave me this much attention. Even my own mother was always doing a million things at once.

No, no. I couldn’t fall for this guy or start thinking about what could be. But maybe I could get him talking, see if this worked for his future dates.

“You’re the one who is a little too liberal with the online search bar, methinks.”

He nodded. “Have to use everything at my disposal.”

“What did you do before the internet? Like when you played games as a kid? Bust out the dictionary?” I blurted.

He laughed, the sound doing things to my heart that I didn’t know could still feel that way. “Didn’t do much for board games as a kid. With the wordy ones, I’d get my arse kicked by Jack or Connor, anyway. They were more of the brains of the operation.”

“Good to know. They’re the brains and you’re the beauty.”

“Aw, didn’t know you thought anything but my body was cute,” he replied, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Who said I’m not just talking about your ass and not the rest of your body?” I tried to hide my smile behind my wineglass as I took a sip.

His brow furrowed. “You fight awfully hard when someone is trying to talk to you or make a joke.”

The words shouldn’t have stung like they did, but I winced, setting my glass down.

“Shite,” he muttered, raking his hands through his hair. “Wrong thing to say? This is probably why I suck at dating.”

I shook my head, staring at my fingernails on the table instead of him. “No. I mean, maybe? You know my ex, the one who cheated on me? Well, it was with my former business partner. Probably why I let Fallon convince me to leave everything I knew behind to come here for a bartending gig. Now I’m here, sitting across from a guy who needs a wife, and any thought I have of a romantic life is blurred by the idea that love sucks.”

He blew out a raspberry. “Shite, now I really do feel like an eejit.”

I snorted. “Don’t. My ex was a loser anyway, something I should have realized before. He was in a band that played really bad 1980s cover music. Sometimes they had gigs, sometimes they didn’t. When they didn’t, he’d forget to pay the rent, so we were kicked out of our apartment, and he ended up living with me in my mom’s basement.”

“Wow. He does sound like a real winner.” He looked straight into my eyes, making me feel like he was seeing too much.

“Right?” I whispered, finishing my glass of wine, wanting the fuzziness to travel through my body so I didn’t have to think any more about my past.

“I probably have daddy issues. You know, since mine was a gambler who had the hots for Latin waitresses. I only remember seeing him a few times, during one of which, he graced me with a baby sister then left again.”

Maybe I needed to stop with the wine and telling the guy my life story.

Sean raised his eyebrows. “Feck. Is this normal dating talk?”

I shrugged. “It’s normal me talk. You wanted to know what was bothering me, so figured I’d spill. Now you know why I’m here.”

“My da wasn’t the best role model, either, for relationships. Never dated anyone after my ma passed. Though he didn’t technically leave us, I never saw much of him. He was busy building his empire, so we were sent off to boarding school. He never saw a single one of my rugby games.”

“Really?”

Sean’s face fell, and I watched as he swallowed hard, a cold chill prickling my skin as I stared in his direction. “Yeah, Da wasn’t a big fan of the sport, or anything more than business. But I’m not trying to give you the ‘oh woe is me’ thing. That’s just how it was.”

Without thinking what I was doing, I put my hand on his, my fingers brushing along the worn skin of knuckles.

Our eyes met across the table, and through our hands surged a zing of electricity, which I tried hard as hell to ignore.

“Your dad obviously cared a lot about you and your brothers and everything he set up for you.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “This may make me sound like a gobshite, but I just wish he could have seen me for who I was. I wasn’t expecting a handout, just for him to accept rugby. Part of me thinks he wrote that heir clause the way he did so I’d have to leave the game.”

I shook my head fiercely, a new need to protect this man bubbling inside of me. “I don’t think that at all. He probably just did what he thought was best, no matter how crazy it may seem. My mom and abuela are the same way. If it were up to them, I’d have married Abuela’s friend’s nephew’s neighbor from Guatemala at sixteen and moved to his coffee plantation where we’d have a billion kids.”

Sean smiled again, squeezing my hand. “Well, I’m glad that never happened. For multiple reasons, but the biggest one being I wouldn’t have got to meet you.”

“Yeah, and I guess I’m glad we both didn’t listen to our parents plans for us,” I said softly.

“Why’s that?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he licked his bottom lip.

Every part of my body that had been heated was now completely aflame. I didn’t know if it was from the wine, our conversation, or the way this man looked at me. But I had to stop this and quick.

“So I could help you find a wife and get your business in order, of course,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

“Right,” he said, letting go of my hand and taking a large gulp of his wine.

I swallowed hard, ignoring the pit in my stomach from his look of disappointment.

This was the first time in a long while I could remember hanging out and laughing with a guy and, what’s more, digging deeper into my life.

But I couldn’t let that happen again.

Not with Sean.

I was just here to help him find a wife and get the company.

Nothing else.

No matter what the smile I was trying to hide said.