Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Men’s fashion usually doesn’t make the cut.
But for me, it’s my life.
From the day I first picked up a copy of GQ magazine in the lobby of one of my dad’s many campaign offices, I’ve been hooked.
I was told that an interest in fashion made a man effeminate. I should be interested in football, whiskey, and trucks.
But what could be more masculine than wanting to look good? Wanting to present yourself as a man to be taken seriously, as one who cares how he portrays himself to the rest of the world?
The ladies love it. Every time I go down to my club, they flock to me, oohing and aahing over the perfectly tailored blazer I’m wearing that evening, the cuff links and matching pocket square I’ve paired it with, even the carefully trimmed shape of the stubble on my cheeks.
Compared to Joe Cargo Shorts, I’m definitely the winner.
But this time of year, it’s all I can do to scrape the money together to keep this place running.
I own the building. It already belonged to my family, and I made a deal with the devil—more commonly known as Henry Hathaway, my father—to get my name on the deed. The haberdashery has been in the family for years, but it had fallen into pretty bad disrepair by the time I got my hands on it.
But after years of hard work, I brought it back to life. Kept the same style that my Great-Uncle Stephen—the last person to run the place full-time—had, while adding some modern touches. The shelves and displays are all the original dark cherry wood that Stephen had built, and I polished them all until they were new. I replaced the glass on the displays where I exhibit watches, cuff links, and tie pins, and even managed to refurbish the brass cash register that Stephen used back in the day.
I outfitted the vintage hanging pendant lamps with new eco-friendly lightbulbs. I even found an old phonograph from a nearby antique store, which I use to play jazz vinyl. The music mixes perfectly with the decades-old aroma of leather, wool, and pipe tobacco that permeates every corner of the shop. I did add a few things to bring the place into the twenty-first century. Metallic accents on the walls and some vivid contemporary art that I’ve picked up at shows across the city.
I love the haberdashery.
I just wish it weren’t such a pain in the ass to run this time of year.
I look at my watch. It’s almost seven p.m. I could close a little early. I think it’s safe to say that no one is going to—
Never mind.
A woman just came in.
And good God damn, if she isn’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
She’s in a light-blue puffy down jacket, but even with that on, I can make out a slender figure. She has perfect blond hair that hangs past her shoulders, and her skin has a light-olive tone to it. Her lips are a gorgeous shade of dark pink, and a light blush graces her cheeks—probably from the cold. Even from the distance between my shop’s entrance and the cashier counter where I’m currently standing, I can see that her eyes match her jacket’s icy shade of blue. The same color as Lake Michigan when it freezes over. A few snowflakes rest on her gorgeous long lashes.
I see hot women all the time. The club has them by the dozen. But not one of them can match the vision that just entered my shop.
I clear my throat. “Hi. Can I help you?”
She looks up at me, and her eyes widen. “Y-Yes. I happened to be wandering by. Took a different path home from work. I saw your shop, and I…”
She pouts her lips, which drives me crazy. Something stirs in me that I haven’t felt since…
Well, let’s just say it’s been a while.
“Are you looking for a gift for someone?”
She scratches the side of her head. “No. It’s silly, to be honest. I was just…” She chuckles nervously. “I saw the sign, and I was wondering what exactly a haberdashery is.”
I laugh. “You’re joking.”
She frowns. “I wish I were. You must take me for a dummy.”
I’m just realizing that she has a British accent, in a light honeyed tone. She could broadcast for the BBC. It’s that clear and articulate. God, as if I weren’t already attracted as hell to her…
I shake my head. “Not at all. It’s not like it’s the most conventional word.” I gesture to the shelves and displays around me. “Haberdashery is basically just a fancy word for a men’s clothing store. We sell suits and jackets here, mostly, but also lots of accessories. Ties, cuff links, watches, even hats.”
She drops her jaw. “Hats? Like top hats?”
I smirk. “Mostly fedoras and bowlers, but we do have a small selection of top hats, too.”