Free Chasing Glory by DeeAnna Galbraith Page A

impressed her. “Stuck in a small hotel in French Guiana for a solid week during a deluge. His work was the only book in the library in English.”
    “Oh. Then I’ll try and keep my misquotes to a minimum.” She tipped her head toward Nordstrom’s storefront. “Ready?”
    Tall took a deep breath and nodded.
    They found their way to the men’s department, past the array of ties, dress shirts and suits. He let out another breath until Glory stopped and fingered some rough silk shirts and picked one, holding it up to him. The dark gold color and loose construction were not anything he would consider on his own, but he lifted his chin and stood still.
    “Andrea Valmarana is the hottest Italian designer of the season. We carry only a small selection of his shirts. That one would look very nice on you.”
    He and Glory turned at the sultry voice. The sales associate was beautiful, and he supposed she did very well in selling expensive clothes to men.
    Glory didn’t even blink. She handed the shirt to the woman. “Yes. Maybe some coffee, or dark olive-colored slacks, too.”
    The woman gave a slight nod. “My name is Caprielle.” She turned to lead the way.
    Tal held Glory’s arm as she started to follow. “Are you sure about this? I mean that shirt’s silk .”
    “Right,” she said. “This is going to cost you a fortune.”
    “It’s not the money,” he whispered, aware that the sales person had stopped and was waiting. “It’s the girly factor.”
    He watched as she arranged her features to suppress a laugh. “No one would ever think of you as girly. Now, are we going to have this conversation over every item?”
    Tal pulled in his lips, shook his head and surrendered. It also gave him a ridiculous lift that Glory considered him masculine.
    His senses went on overload for the next hour as Glory and Caprielle brought several outfits for him to try on. He felt foolish walking out of the changing room area each time to have the two women pluck at sleeves, hems, collars and cuffs. The sales woman shook her head over his comfortable loafers and best argyle socks.
    At last they made it to the register. He held the original shirt Glory had chosen, a pair of tailored khakis, a belt, cashmere socks, and a summer weight English wool jacket in a muted herringbone.
    Next stop was shoes. He cringed at the light, European slip-ons that shoe guy and Glory picked out. “Perfect,” she said.
    Tal balked. “These would last about five minutes in the testing kitchens. That band of linen inset would be ruined if a fruit glaze splattered on it.”
    She crossed her arms and lifted the right side of her mouth. “You can keep these things in your office and only wear them upstairs for meetings. Besides, in a pinch, you have protective shoe covers and coveralls, right?”
    He was surprised at how much he wanted to gain her approval. Suck it up Kingston. This was your idea, so take it like a man . Tal handed the shoe to shoe guy. “Eleven B.”
    Her elusive dimple flashed. “There. That wasn’t so bad.”
    Tal smiled back, mentally capitulating. She was right, of course.
    They shopped three more stores. None of which he would have entered because the clothes in their windows didn’t appeal to him. When they closed the last store at six, he’d purchased two more shirts, another pair of slacks and another belt.
    “We’ve been very successful,” Glory said. “The slacks will be hemmed by Wednesday, so you can catch Alyssia by surprise in Thursday’s officer and department head meeting.” She held out her hand. “My next bus is in ten minutes. See you on Monday.”
    Now that it was over, Tal realized he didn’t want it to end. He made a spur-of-the-moment decision. “May I cook a victory dinner for you at my place? It’s the least I can do to thank you for the extra help. I’ll take you home from there.”
    As if on cue, Glory’s stomach rumbled. He went in for the coup de grace . “I’ve been testing a new dessert