“Now, let’s start with your clothing. You canter about town wearing sloppy T-shirts and gym shorts that should have seen the bottom of the rubbish pile years ago. I have some lovely catalogs I will loan you. Don’t worry, I’ll mark up the selections I think will suit you best. You’re a handsome man beneath all that scruffiness.”
Jake bristled. “I’m not scruffy.” He rubbed his recently shaved face.
“Darling, it’s not just about your hygiene, it’s the whole look.”
“I like my look. I don’t want to come across like—”
“Jamison French,” Hilda said, pointing toward the dapper man chatting with Shelby and John. Jamison wore a pair of pressed trousers and a long-sleeved shirt with a blue sweater vest. He looked like a rich prissy pants. “Now, that’s a man who knows how to play up his best assets.”
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