Men of London 03 - Suit Yourself

Men of London 03 - Suit Yourself Read Free Page B

Book: Men of London 03 - Suit Yourself Read Free
Author: Susan Mac Nicol
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“Now, now, don’t be a bitch.
I mean, what’s so great about the name Leslie Scott?”
    Leslie spluttered. “Leslie Tiberius Scott, if you please.”
    Laverne stared at him then broke out into
great guffaws of laughter that definitely made her the man she was
beneath the armour. “Oh my God, Leslie, my little chicken.
Tiberius? That is not a name I would associate with a gorgeous
Tinkerbell like you. The name Tiberius conjures up hunky Captain
James T. Kirk.” She licked her lips lasciviously.
    Leslie wanted to swear and tell Laverne he
was not Tinkerbell, but this was Laverne. And she had said gorgeous. Instead, he clenched his teeth and
took the comment on the chin.
    “Well, at least it’s pretty unusual. Not like
Oliver Brown.”
    Laverne must have picked up on the slight
hurt in his voice because she sailed over to him and enveloped him
in her bosom. It looked like Leslie wasn’t getting off scot free
tonight.
    “Leslie. When I call you Tinkerbell, I mean
that I see beauty, grace, and a warm-hearted, beautiful soul. I see
big blue eyes, pale skin and black hair that’d make a man’s heart
melt. I don’t see a man who is a fairy, or unable to stand up for
himself. You, Leslie Tiberius Scott, are a wonderful human being
and that’s why I call you Tinkerbell.”
    Somewhat mollified, Leslie managed to
extricate himself from Laverne’s clutches. His hair was mussed from
being held so close, but for once, he didn’t mind the unruly state
of it.
    “Well, that’s okay then. It’s just everyone
thinks I’m this slim twink who can’t say boo to a goose, and I
promise you, I have my moments.” He recalled one moment fondly when
he’d attacked a man while wearing his high heels then proceeded to
bash said dickhead with the end of them. Eddie had been the
unfortunate victim that night of the man’s unwelcome advances, but
between them, Leslie and Taylor had saved the day.
    “I have no doubt of that.” Lavern’s lips
twitched as if holding back a smile and then she was back to
business. “So, you’ll take Mr. Brown’s suit to him then, this
afternoon? You can take the car. It’s not too far away and I think
he said he had off-road parking.” She waggled a large finger at
him. “Mr. Brown is my best customer. You treat him right.” She
winked. “And I’m really interested to know what the man behind the
sexy voice looks like. I’ve never met him myself.”
    Leslie sighed. He and the thong could do
this. “Fine. I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise. Let me get
the suit from the Arbour and I’ll load it in the car.” He looked at
her hopefully. “I want to change, too.” He looked down at his glad
rags. “These aren’t particularly suitable for delivering a suit.” He snorted at his own wit.
    Laverne rolled her eyes. “There are some spec
suits in the back, change into one of those. I’ve no doubt I’ll
ever see it again.” Spec or specimen suits were ones that Laverne
had made but were deigned not good enough for sale even though in
Leslie’s eyes they were perfect.
    Leslie batted his eyelashes. “You mean I get
to keep it? Oh, Laverne. You doll. I don’t suppose you have spare
underwear anywhere, do you?” He wriggled uncomfortably. “This damn
string is chafing my backside.”
    Laverne shook her head. “No, sweets, I don’t
have any Andrew Christians or fancy thongs lying around. You’ll
either have to go commando or wear the one you have on. Now be off
with you, urchin. Post haste. The Arbour awaits.”
    The Arbour was the room where all the suits
that were already made were stored. It was nothing more than a very
large, high-ceilinged and airy room with rails and hangers around
the walls and a large olive tree in the centre, hence the name.
Laverne was fond of olive trees and this one was close to eight
feet, set into glistening white pebbles in an enclosure set into
the laminated floor. It was looked after as if it were a precious
baby. They’d even held office picnics

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