Page 1 of Jurassic Measures
PROLOGUE
Deep breaths.
I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.
Okay, I do love it, but honestly, my father is like a rabid dictator. He doesn’t let me be my own creator or have my own ideas.
Ever since I was a little boy, all I ever wanted was to be like my father. He wasn’t just an amazing tailor, he designed suits, gowns, and anything the human body could wear. When I was fifteen, I had the nerve to ask him why his shop was called McPherson Tailors and not Tailor and Designs? He smacked me on the back of the head and explained he wasn’t some namby-pamby designer. Which also told me he had no idea what namby-pamby meant or that designers were artists.
When I graduated high school I still very much wanted to work beside my father. I truly believed I could convince him to expand on the title and maybe even travel.
At twenty-one, I took the risk and asked, “Maybe we should travel and promote the shop and your…our work?”
Another slap upside the head and a stern, “People come to me not the other way around.” At least he didn’t say namby-pamby.
Now, I’m thirty-three, my father’s arthritis has slowly been getting the better of him and he’s coming up on his seventieth birthday. Many nights as we closed, he’d announce he’d be retiring and leaving all this to me one day. A part of me longed for the day I could turn McPherson’s into something more, but on the other hand, I would miss working with the old man.
As we locked up one clear and still brisk March evening, my father gripped my arm and turned me to face him.
“Jason.”
His eyes were full of worry and suddenly I was no longer chilly, but instead sweating. “What’s wrong?”
He snorted and shook his head. “Nothing is wrong. I wanted to tell you all day, but I kept stalling.” His sigh was heavy, weary. “I’m officially retiring. My hands…” The way he held them up, visibly stiff and slightly swollen at the joints, it was easy to see he was in pain. “You’ve had a vision for this shop and I’ve held you back.” I had my own set of keys to the store but he handed me his. Symbolism maybe?
“Your time has come.”
“Dad, I…”
“You’re so talented, Jason. You’ll bring McPherson Tailors into the future, and I…” He wiggled his fingers. “I’ll rest.”
My heart ached realizing this was the last time I’d be closing the shop with my dad, and at the same time excitement bubbled in the pit of my belly.
“I love you, Dad.”
His smile was wide and bright and when he laughed, it was as contagious as ever. Yeah, he was a dictator of his craft, but one hell of a father.
“I love you too, Son. Now let’s go home. Your mom told me I wouldn’t get any pot roast if I didn’t finally tell you tonight.”
“When were yousupposedto tell me?” I quirked a brow.
He shrugged. “Maybe two months ago.”
“Jesus,” I mumbled under my breath. “Let’s get you home then. I’ll have some pot roast with you before I go to my place.”
CHAPTER ONE
ONE YEAR LATER
“Jay,why are there ten different shades of pink fabric in the back room?” Amber, my assistant, and the person who’d kept my head above water this past year, was tapping her foot on our new wooden floors.
“Because there is never just one shade of anything, Princess.” I winked which got me the reaction I enjoyed most.
“Don’t get bratty!” She pointed at me, cheeks a delightful shade of scarlet, because there was no one shade of red.
“Dellanore James is coming in at one to decide what color she’d like her dress to be for the spring gala this year. It’s March first and with the gala on the spring equinox, I only have maybe two weeks to complete it and get alterations done.”
“Why must she wait until the last minute? She did this with Christmas too.”
