Stay(7)

“Uh, yes.” He lifts the garment bag from his arm onto the counter, unzipping it to reveal a deep red, beaded and feathered dress. “It needs to be cleaned, and she said there’s a zipper problem.”

I glance at his left hand, turning the thin strips of red fabric. No ring. A glance at his face, and I would almost think he might be embarrassed. Does Stephen Hastings get embarrassed?

“She is?” Like it’s any of my business.

“My aunt Rebecca has taken up ballroom dancing.” He says it like she’s a stripper.

“And you’re dropping off her dry cleaning?”

“She’s a bit eccentric. She doesn’t trust her doorman.” His eyes roam over me, from the top of my head down my cheeks to my shoulders, and it’s frustratingly hot. “It’s been a long time. Why are you working… at this place?”

Pressing my lips together, I fight him, his sexy gaze, his kindness to his aunt. I remember him wishing me luck right before he walked out on me, never to be heard from again.

The battle is raging in my mind when Lulabell breezes in from the back, humming a show tune. She skids to a stop and her voice squeaks high, like a needle slipping off a record.

“Great balls of fire, Emmy! Why didn’t you tell me James Bond was in our shop?”

“Stephen Hastings is not James Bond.” It comes out snappier than I intend.

“Well, he can go undercover on me any day.” She scoots up beside me, blinking her heavily lashed eyes at him.

With a sigh, I wave my hand between them. “Lulabell Brady, Stephen Hastings. Stephen Hastings, my boss Lulabell. Stephen is an old friend… from school.”

I hit the old a little harder than necessary.

“How do you do?” He extends a hand, but when Lou sees the sparkling strips of scarlet feathers and beads in the garment bag, she changes direction.

“Oh, this is fabulous! Is it a Jean Claude?”

“Sorry?” He looks from her to the costume she’s slowly lifting out of the heavy canvas.

“This is a work of art, Emily. Oh, I see there’s a zipper problem here.” Lou lowers her reading glasses over her eyes and tilts the metal zipper side to side on the counter. “I can replace it. Do you prefer metal or plastic?”

“It’s my aunt’s. I can text her and ask.”

“Just call and leave a message when you know. I won’t be able to start on it until tonight. It will be my honor.” She returns the dress to the bag like it’s priceless. “Emmy can finish writing this up, and tell your aunt I will personally handle all her costumes with the care they deserve.”

“Thanks.” Stephen reaches for his breast pocket.

“We also do fine menswear.” Lou gives him a wink. “And you are so fine in your menswear.”

She turns to the next customer, and he seems completely taken aback, which I enjoy until he turns those smoldering blue eyes on me.

As much as I hate him, he’s really hard to look at straight on.

“You are the last person I expected to see here.” He looks me up and down again, and I wonder if he remembers that night as clearly as I do. “You look great.”

“Is that all? We’re very busy.” My tone is clipped.

That scowl I know so well returns. I’m far more comfortable with it than his smile, but a small voice interrupts us.

“Mom! Check it out!” Eli is at my side holding up a small bottle with a teeny tiny little pirate ship inside. “Aunt Lou said it’s a true replica of Black Bart’s ship.”

“She did?” I drop to one knee to study the bottle clutched in my son’s hands. “We’ll have to get a magnifying glass to see it.”

“Okay!” His eyes are wide with excitement, and the anger in my chest is forgotten.

“John Roberts was actually forced into piracy.” My eyebrows rise, and we both look up at Stephen, who’s watching us curiously. “He was a naval officer whose ship was attacked by the pirate Howell Davis. Roberts took over piracy after Davis retired and changed his name to Bartholomew Roberts.”

Standing slowly, my arms cross. “How do you know all of this?”

“I was a little boy once.”

“Too bad you grew up.”

“Hey, mister.” Eli holds the bottle out to him. “Does this look like his ship?”

Stephen takes the bottle and holds it close, squinting one eye and turning it back and forth. “Black Bart had several ships. It could be the Fortune or the Good Fortune, or the Royal Fortune.”

“He wasn’t very creative with his names.” My arms are still crossed.

“Eh. He was a pirate.” Stephen shrugs, giving me a wink. It provokes a little zing in my chest, and my jaw clenches against it.

“Mom and I collect pirates and mermaids. She likes the mermaids.” Eli hooks a thumb in my direction.

“You seem like a really smart guy. What’s your favorite subject in school?”

“Marine biology!”

“Naturally.”

I’ve had enough. “Is that all for today, Mr. Hastings?”

He straightens. “I didn’t know we were being formal, Miss. Barton. Or I guess, Mrs.…?”

“You had it right the first time.” His eyebrow arches as if he wants to know more. He can keep on wanting. “If you’re done, people are waiting.”