Not Quite Perfect
Page 47

 Catherine Bybee

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She tried on two more before finding the prefect fit and length. Mary removed it and searched for a price tag. When she found it, she thought for certain there was a misprint on the tag. “Glen?” She waved him over from another rack he was looking for her size in. He placed both hands on her shoulders and looked at the coat from behind her. “Does that say what I think it says?”
“Huh. Yeah, I think so.”
Mary promptly put the coat back on the hanger and placed it back on the rack. “We’re leaving.”
Glen removed the coat when she twisted away. “Good, I’m hungry.”
She stopped and pointed. “Glen!”
“It fits, you like it.”
She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I like the coat, not the price. I’ll be fine.”
He slung his arm over her shoulders and spoke close to her ear. “I’m all about chivalry, but it’s butt cold out there, and I like my coat.”
About that moment, an employee approached them with a careful smile and perfectly pressed clothes. “Did you find what you’re looking for?” she asked.
Glen said yes when Mary said no.
The clerk batted her eyelashes and smiled toward Glen. He handed the lady the coat. “We’ll take this.”
Mary pinched his ass. “Glen,” she warned under her breath.
“You’re cute when you snarl.”
Panic gripped her chest when the employee stepped behind a register and started ringing up the sale. Mary’s lips were touching his ear. “I can’t afford it.”
He returned the lip to ear favor. “You’re not paying for it.”
The panic started to spread. “Glen, no. I can’t accept that.”
“You can. You just say thank you.”
“Glen!”
The clerk smiled at them as if she saw this kind of under-the-breath argument daily.
Glen placed a finger in the air and turned his back to the employee. “Listen. I didn’t tell you to bring a winter coat. It’s my fault you’re not prepared.”
“It’s not winter. I should have checked the weather report.”
“I did check the weather report and didn’t think to tell you. My fault, therefore I pay for the coat.” His hand reached for his wallet.
She wanted to tell him she’d pay him back, but she knew a two-thousand-dollar coat was way outside of her budget. “I’m going to spank you for this.”
He did one of those once-overs men did and winked. “Is that a promise?”
“Oh, God.”
Glen laughed, turned, and handed the employee his credit card.
Snuggled into a coat that cost half of what her plumbing problem set her back, Mary walked beside Glen as they left the store. They stepped just outside the door when she swung around and clasped Glen’s face with both hands. She kissed him hard, and when she pulled away, she said, “Thank you.”
The doorman cleared his throat, bringing their attention to the fact that there were people behind them wanting to exit the building.
Glen put his now familiar arm over her shoulder and walked her toward their lunch.
And when he wasn’t expecting it, Mary slapped his ass once . . . just because she told him she would.
Chapter Seventeen
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Monica greeted Mary with a hug. “Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing Mary?” The question was aimed at Glen.
Mary assumed they were going to be leaving the hotel for the black-tie event, but instead they took an elevator ride to one of the ballrooms at The Morrison, where guests had just started to arrive.
Glen gave a quick hug to his sister-in-law, saying, “No one asked.”
Trent leaned in and kissed Mary’s cheek. “Hi, Mary.”
“You remember, Jason, right?” Glen asked.
Glen’s older brother stood beside his siblings, wearing a similar smile and the same broad shoulders. Mary couldn’t imagine the trouble these three had managed when they were younger. “Of course I remember Jason.” She hugged him. “How are you?”
“Stressed, overworked, you know . . . the usual.”
“Tell your boss you need a vacation,” Trent teased.
“Bite me.”
Mary loved the banter between the brothers. “So is this a Fairchild Charters function?” she asked.
Monica exchanged looks with her. “Didn’t Glen tell you what this is all about?”
Mary shook her head, careful not to move it too fast or undo what the hairdresser at the hotel took thirty minutes to put up.
“It’s a giant schmooze-fest,” Trent said under his breath.
Jason nudged the youngest Fairchild. “We hold an annual black-tie dinner for our premier clients. Both those whose jets we charter and those who travel with our service.”
Glen went on to say, “For the past several years we hold the event here at The Morrison and combine our efforts and schmoozing, as Trent put it, with The Morrison’s elite clientele.”
“There will be a lot of networking going on between these walls tonight,” Jason said.
“There will be a lot of drinking,” Monica added.
“And that.”
Mary looked around the massive hall. “Does that mean your sister will be here?” she asked Monica.
“Jessie and Jack should be here any minute.”
“Good, I can finally meet her.”
Monica looped her arm between Mary’s. “I’m stealing your date,” she told Glen. “Let’s go find Katie.”