Writing Mr. Right by Wright Michaela

Author:Wright, Michaela [Wright, Michaela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-08-28T07:00:00+00:00

***

“Well, don’t you clean up nice?”

Garrett spun around to find Jenny standing in the doorway, her hip cocked out to the side. Garrett glanced down at himself and his face flushed.

“Bah, ‘tisn’t that impressive.”

“Oh, ye know there’s nothing so lovely as the sight of a man in a kilt,” Jenny said, slipping into the office to sit on his desk.

He chuckled. “So I’ve been told.”

Garrett turned back to his desk, shuffling papers. This was the universal sign of ‘I’m rather busy, will ye feck off?’ Sadly, Jenny didn’t catch his drift.

“What are ye all dolled up for?”

Garrett glanced down at his kilt, the MacCauley colors of bright red and green. His sporran was sinking between his thighs, horsehair tails bristled from years of wear. “An old friend is in town. Thought I’d try to pop in to see her.”

“Her? Who is this mysterious friend, then?”

Garrett swallowed. Jennifer Gilly was a brunette, with straight hair, long legs, and her front teeth were just slightly crooked. She was seven years younger than Garrett, but she behaved even younger than that, and she made him somewhat uncomfortable. She’d worked in Royal Mile Booksellers before he became the new proprietor, renaming the place and hanging his old sign over the door. Despite revamping the tired shop, he hadn’t thought to hire new staff. Over the course of the first week with Jenny, the heat she threw his way made him feel almost cornered in the cozy shop. In an effort to still her flirtation, he’d lied, telling her he was married. This seemed to only further amplify her attraction. Jennifer Gilly wasn’t unattractive, by any means. She was drop dead gorgeous by most men’s standards. Still, she worked in a book shop, and she didn’t read. That wouldn’t do.

She simply wasn’t his cup of tea. As it turned out, his cup of tea would be standing in front of a room of avid readers, reading pages from her novel less than a mile from his shop that evening. He’d worn the kilt for her.

“Just a friend,” Garrett said.

“Well, why didn’t ye have her in the shop? Had a great turn out, we had!”

It was true. Adding Burns Book Shop to the list of venues for this year’s festival had been one of the best business ventures of his career. He laughed at the thought of Georgia tucked into the corners of the shop in Inverness. She’d been genuinely startled at the thought of people lining up to meet her. Now, she was booked into the biggest venue of the festival, and they still sold out. Garrett mindlessly patted his sporran, relieved in the knowledge that he’d managed to get a ticket.

He smiled. “The shop couldnae hold her.”

“That’s no a nice thing tae say, Garrett!” Jenny scolded him, but she was laughing. “Big girl then, ae?”

Garrett just shook his head, assuring Jenny that he needed to get work done. This was true; the constant stream of writers and readers had brought in a massive surplus,

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