out the folds of fabric. “Is it better?” she asked.
Jennifer turned back to the wall of mirrors. Tears were in her voice when she answered.
“Great,” Diana said, glad to have appeased another bride. She stepped off the platform and onto the floor. “How’s everything else?”
“Fine,” Jennifer said. Then she turned to Susan and the seamstress and apologized. Both women smiled. They’d been through this scene a hundred or more times. “Oh, by the way,” Jennifer said. “There’s been a replacement for one of the groomsmen.”
“I got your message.” She should have said messages. Diana wondered if three was a significant number for Jennifer. She’d told her three times about Oscar’s replacement, yet she never mentioned who the replacement was. Brides, even those as organized as Jennifer, had lapses of memory.
“He’s next door getting fitted for his tux.”
“Let me go introduce myself.” Diana liked knowing the members of the wedding party. In case of an emergency, she knew who she was looking for. She took the digital camera she always carried from her purse. She’d take a photo and label it to be sure. Jennifer Embry had twelve bridesmaids and an equal number of groomsmen. It was impossible to keep all the names straight, even though Diana was good with names and faces. Still, she relied on file photos to help her or one of her assistants in case she had to delegate duties.
The gown and tuxedo shops were connected by a short passageway. It was designed both to keep the noise down and to provide privacy. Diana didn’t use it. She preferred to enter from the outside.
The bells chimed when she entered the shop. Several people browsed the various colors and styles of men’s clothing. All of the dressing room doors were closed. Judging by the parking lot, the place was full.
“Jeremy,” she called.
The clerk came from the last dressing room. “Ms. Greer, how are you?” When they were alone Jeremy was very informal and called her Diana; occasionally and with several drinks under his belt, she was Di. When she came in the shop, she was Ms. Greer. To her he was always Jeremy. He and Susan were man and wife, but they kept to their separate areas unless need forced one to the other side of the causeway.
“I’m looking for the new member of the Embry-Quincy wedding. The bride told me he was here and I wanted to introduce myself.”
Someone said something from behind them and one of the other clerks went to aid the customer.
“He’s waiting for his fitting.” Jeremy indicated one of the dressing room doors.
“I can wait a few minutes.”
“It might be longer than that. I’m short-handed and swamped. Three parties are due in any moment now and I have all the dressing rooms filled.” Suddenly, he put a hand to his chin. Then he looked at Diana with a strange expression. “I wouldn’t like to impose, but you do know the ropes? Do you have a moment to help out?”
Diana never refused Jeremy anything. He’d helped her get started by giving her mountains of advice that saved her from some major pitfalls. Before his move to this location she had worked in his store for over a year and had learned how to take measurements.
“The Embry-Quincy wedding is in the Red Room.” He smiled and offered her the tape measure hanging around his neck. “I believe the new member may need his nerves soothed.”
Diana smiled. She’d often been called upon to settle a guy whose mind was on other tasks. She glanced at the dressing rooms. Jeremy named his rooms after those in the White House. It gave the place a little elegance, he said, and who wants to dress in Room 3 when they could have the Red Room? Diana still remembered the expression on his face when he gave more credence to a false name than to a nondescript number.
Taking the tape measure, she dropped her purse in his office and knocked lightly on the door of the dressing room. “I’m here to take your measurements,” she said before going in. She wanted the man to know she was female in case Jeremy had told him to remove his pants. Or if he was shy.
“Come in.”
Diana stepped through the door and quickly closed it. Although Jeremy’s dressing rooms were huge and set up like the entrance to a home, with a foyer section and a comfortable living room, sporting a large mirror that covered one wall, Diana couldn’t be sure the client wasn’t standing near the door in full view of whomever was outside. When she turned back she saw only her reflection across the spacious gray-colored carpeting. The subdued floor contrasted with the bright furnishings. Walking several steps past a wall that set off the foyer area, she came face-to-face with the last person on the planet she expected to see.
Diana didn’t know which one of them was more surprised.
“What are you doing here?” they asked at the same time.
Diana recovered first. “I’m here to take your measurements if you are the replacement in the Embry-Quincy wedding.”
“Scott Thomas, nice to meet you.” He extended a hand as if they’d never met. Diana ignored it and he folded both arms across his chest. The action brought his white shirt up a little higher over legs that were long, strong and naked. She wished her heart didn’t step up its beat, but she couldn’t deny it. Teddy had put the thought in her head that he was handsome. That was an understatement. He was a crowd standout. And with him half dressed, Diana wondered what he’d look like totally naked.
Clearing her throat and mentally shaking those thoughts from her mind, she asked, “Shall we get started?”
“I didn’t know you worked here.”
“I agreed to help Jeremy out because he has a lot going on in the shop. And I expect you have other places to be.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Then...” She pulled the measuring tape from her neck and took a step forward. “That is, unless you’d like a male to take your measurements. They’re all busy right now, so your wait will be a little longer.”
“I’ve waited long enough,” he said. “Let’s get it over with.”
Diana took a deep breath and approached him. “Turn around.”
He presented his back to her, and she reached up to measure its width. Then the length of his arms. She tried doing his waist from behind, but he turned in her arms. Diana caught her breath. For a moment she didn’t think she’d be able to keep her feet on the floor. Gripping the tape measure, she fought to keep control of her shaking hands. Finally, she dropped to the floor to measure his inseam.
“Spread your legs, please,” she said. Blood hammered in her head. She could feel the heat of his nearness. Her face flamed as blood rushed up her features, burning her ears.
“Why don’t I just tell you my size?” Scott asked.
For a short moment Diana was unsure what he meant. Then sanity returned, and she realized he meant his suit size. She could feel more heat pump into her face and ears, and she wondered why they didn’t melt and slide off. She dared not look up at him.
“Your suit size is not always the same. And you want to look your best at the wedding.” Diana couldn’t imagine him looking any other way.
“Of course. Anything less and Jennifer will have my head.”
Diana raised herself up on her knees and prepared for the final measurement. She willed her hands to remain steady. Swallowing and ignoring the roar of blood and unwanted memories inside her head she touched his leg just above the knee. It was a test of her own ability to continue this procedure. She’d done this hundreds of times. She’d measured guys who were model perfect, silver-screen-idol caliber, and never had to keep her emotions in check. But Scott Thomas was throwing her usual calm into aggregated chaos.
His leg was warm, as strong and solid as a tennis player’s. She moved the tape measure higher. Time seemed to slow