Chapter 6
NOAH
Saturday morning
“Would you like to leave a note?”
“No.” I rub the skin over my temples, trying to ease the ache building there as I stand in front of the store’s wide double doors. “I would not like to leave a note. Can you tell Mr. Quinn to please come out here? Preferably now?”
The host at the tuxedo shop casts me a curious look, one salt-and-peppered brow shooting sky-high. “I’m sorry, sir,” he croons in an English accent as smooth as red wine. “Mr. Quinn is indisposed at the moment. May I ask who’s calling for him?”
My own eyes narrow. “The other Mr. Quinn. His brother. And I need to see him right now.”
He blinks for a second, recognition dawning in his dark blue eyes. The tuxedo shop employee glances over his shoulder. “Yes, of course, sir.” His eyes meet mine a
