Page 44 of The Fiancé Hoax
My stomach fluttered, and it wasn’t from the stomach bug. Being close to Cooper was still so thrilling.
“What do you think of Moonstone?” I asked, gesturing to the store. It was his first time visiting.
He walked slowly through the main corridor, taking in the display racks, the cash register, and my sewing space at the back of the shop.
“It’s a gorgeous store.”
“Really?” I gushed.
He shifted some items on the rack, looking at the tunics and blouses. I expected him to be clueless about clothes. But to my surprise, he inspected the construction, looking at seams and checking the fabric like he knew what he was doing.
Then he crossed to the eveningwear section and lifted a blue dress off the rack. It was similar to the dress I wore the night I met him at my dad’s party.
He glanced at me. “Felicity, you’re really talented.”
My face flushed warm. “Thank you, Cooper.”
“And I'm not just saying that. I had a hunch from what I saw when we met that you had a knack for design. I wouldn't have agreed to invest in your business if I hadn't.” He smiled. “My gut instinct is usually correct.”
His eyes fell on me. Again, a rush of butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
“These past few days, I've been doing a deep dive into fashion design research,” he said. “I have to know a little about whatever business I'm investing in.”
“Makes sense.” I nodded.
“And seeing your store and more of your designs in person, I'm certain I made the right choice.”
He removed a sage green bohemian-styled dress from the rack. He brought it up to me, holding it under my chin. He squinted, as if to imagine what it might look like being worn.
With a nod, he returned it to the rack. I wiped my palms on my skirt. Being around Cooper made me feel like my fever was returning.
“Please, eat,” he said, gesturing to the food.
I cleared my stuff to make space on the desk and sat down. I began to devour the chicken noodle soup he’d brought, hungrier than I realized.
“Don’t you want any?” I asked between bites.
“Nah, I already ate.”
He was looking at some linen pants. Then he saw the price tag.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
“What?”
He checked the tags on the green dress and tunics. “I knew your prices were low, but this is ridiculous, Felicity.”
“I know. I can increase them.”
“Damn straight.” He took a seat across from me at the desk. “I need to look at your financial records. You didn’t send me your profit and loss statements.”
I swallowed my bite of soup, then clicked on my laptop. “This is last month’s bookkeeping.” I turned the computer to face him.
He furrowed his brow, reading the spreadsheet and scrolling. I snuck a peek at his thick, tight forearms as he worked. His presence dominated the store—his huge frame and woodsy cologne seemed out of place in the girly boutique, but I loved having him here.
“The previous months are on the next page,” I said.
He nodded and clicked around, studying my records. My heart pounded, suddenly feeling vulnerable as Cooper peered into my files. I finished my lunch and put the containers away.