“He’d vowed to walk through fire to achieve his goal and so he couldn’t turn back. But if Ashe had offered him the choice of a burning pit instead of crossing through the doors ahead, Michael was fairly certain he’d cheerfully opt to imitate a human torch. “I have clothes,” Michael repeated uselessly. “I have an evening coat.” “You need a better one,” Ashe said as he reached the door. He turned back and rewarded his friend with a wry grin. “Don’t deprive me of my fun. Besides, you said it yourse...lf. If it went beyond a simple dinner, you’d let me help you.” “I hate Rowan for telling you that.” Ashe opened the door with a flourish. “No, you don’t. Come, Rutherford, face your fears.” Michael squared his shoulders and walked in the shop, removing his hat as he accepted his fate. “Welcome to Anthony’s!” The tailor was a diminutive man with a shock of dark curls on his head. He spoke with an Italian flair and he eyed his newest client with the quiet excitement of an explorer spying a vast unconquered coastline.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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