After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(39)

“That’s a touch . . .” Oliver stopped talking and leaned forward until he was only inches away from her face. She could feel his breath tease her cheek, and that had her pulse hitching up a notch, but it slowed considerably when his brows drew together. “This Miss Plum you live with—she wouldn’t happen to be Miss Lucetta Plum, would she?”

“She is.”

His brows drew closer together. “You never told me you live with an actress.”

“You never asked. But just so we’re crystal clear, Lucetta is completely respectable.”

“She’s an actress, and I’ve heard otherwise.”

Temper began to sizzle through her body. “You should know better than to listen to gossip.”

“Has Miss Plum ever mentioned Mr. Silas Ruff?”

“Of course.”

“And yet you have the audacity to tell me she’s respectable?”

If anything, her temper boiled hotter. “I don’t know what this Mr. Ruff has told you, but Lucetta can’t abide the gentleman.”

“Really?”

“Indeed,” Harriet snapped before she went to take another bite of her ice cream and realized the bowl was empty. She looked at it longingly for a second and then folded her hands in her lap.

“Would you care for another?”

“Certainly not,” she said, wincing when she detected a clear trace of snippiness in her tone. She cleared her throat. “Although I did enjoy that tremendously. It was very kind of you to provide me with such a treat.”

“Kind is my middle name.”

“I don’t think I’d go that far.”

To her surprise, Oliver laughed. “Yes, well, perhaps you’re right. Since it appears we’re not meant to agree about actresses and their respectability, tell me, did you have fun shopping today?”

Deciding it would be less than gracious to continue being annoyed with the man, Harriet smiled. “I really can’t recall a day I’ve enjoyed more, although, I do feel horribly guilty about the money you spent on me.”

Oliver shrugged. “There’s no reason for you to feel guilty, especially since it was my idea in the first place.” He set his napkin on the table and pushed back his chair. “If you’re certain you don’t want more ice cream, shall we get on our way?”

Harriet bit her lip. “Do forgive me, Oliver. I’ve been keeping you from your work, haven’t I?” Struggling to get out of her chair, she found Oliver by her side a second later. He helped her up with one hand, while with the other he slid her chair effortlessly out of her way.

She refused to sigh as she got to her feet. There was something to be said about a fine-looking gentleman paying a lady special attention.

Her knees turned weak when Oliver took hold of her arm, until she realized how completely ridiculously she was behaving. They had a business arrangement, nothing more, and she needed to remember that.

“There’s no reason for you to apologize for taking up my time,” Oliver said as he began steering her around the many tables and toward the door. “It’s been a lovely day, and I’ve enjoyed your company. It’s not often I’m given a chance to speak with a pretty lady and not have to fear her father will come charging at me with a marriage proposal in mind.”

“That’s because we’re already engaged,” she said with a grin, earning a grin from him in return.

That grin sent trepidation cascading over her. He was far too attractive when he grinned, and when he casually mentioned how pretty she was and how he enjoyed her company. It was going to be next to impossible to keep her feet firmly settled on the ground if he continued in such a way, and . . . She stumbled as a realization struck her hard.

She’d made a huge mistake.

She’d agreed to be at Oliver’s beck and call to earn the funds he’d offered, but not once had she considered that she just might become attracted to the man.

She needed to back out of their deal. She needed to . . . Her thoughts stopped midstream when she suddenly noticed that each and every patron in the parlor was looking at her. She sucked in a deep breath and didn’t—or rather couldn’t—release it until they walked out the door and reached the sidewalk.

“Is something wrong? You’re beginning to turn blue.”

Gulping in a breath of air, she knew that everything was wrong, but she certainly couldn’t explain that to Oliver. What would he think if he learned she found him attractive? Would he take it in stride, or might he not like it at all and stop talking to her, or . . . She gulped in another huge breath of air, blew it out with one loud huff, and finally remembered he’d asked her a question. “Everyone was watching us leave, and it made me . . .”

“Stop breathing?”

“I always forget to breathe when I get nervous.”

“I suppose you should be thankful then that you don’t appear to be the type to get nervous often, but I must tell you—you’ll have to get used to people watching you, because watch you they shall once they take note of you on my arm.”

The panic came from out of nowhere as she finally fully realized what she’d signed up for. It was quite ridiculous to think she’d be able to mingle with Oliver’s peers.

“I don’t think that’s going to be possible,” she finally managed to say.