“Guys,I’m not so sure about this.”
I’m standing on a weird fabric-covered platform while a stooped, ancient man named Cornelius is crawling around me on his knees, double-checking the hem of my pants or something.His head is between my legs.There’s itchy fabric rubbing my thighs.People are staring at me.
I don’t think I’ve been more uncomfortable in my life, and I’ve done some really questionable things.
I’ve scaled a barbed-wire fence to rescue a calf stuck in a ditch.Had to get a tetanus shot.
I’ve overdosed.
I’ve walked in on PJ and Mr.Monroe?—
Actually, I prefer not to think about that one.
The point is, I never had to do any of that in a tuxedo that costs more than my car.Every bit of money Daniel Corvus decides to spend on this auction is wet cement in my stomach.
Over to the side of where I’m standing, there’s a sitting area where a bunch of my fellow escorts are seated.They all look fancy while they drink champagne and kick back on brocade-covered chairs and couches.You know a store charges a lot for their stuff when they’re willing to give away champagne for free.Which I guess is why everyone decided to tag along?Well, when I mentioned it on the group chat, Alexis said she’d always wanted an excuse to try on dresses at this place, and things took off from there.
“You getting cold feet, Rav?”PJ asks.
Only every five minutes.When I first decided to do this, I was certain.Now my idiot heart keeps coming back tohelp me understand, baby.
Did Liam even realize he called me baby?Was it more manipulation?Another way to control the silly kid with a silly crush?
“It’s too late for me to have cold feet.I’m just not sure about this tuxedo.Do I look stupid?I’ve literally never worn one in my life.”
Is it a bad sign that “I Knew You Were Trouble” is playing on the store’s sound system?It feels like a sign that’s not good.
“You wear suits when you go on a dinner date with a guy, right?”Simon puts in.He’s perched on his boyfriend Sebastian’s lap, in a window seat.On the street outside, a couple of kids who look high school aged are laughing and using the curb to do skateboard tricks.They seem so carefree.
What’s that like?I don’t remember.
“This is stuffier, though, with the vest and the bow tie and everything.”I force my attention back to my reflection in the mirror, where Cornelius has me all trussed up.This is my second fitting in as many weeks, but he’s been measuring and pinning for what feels like forever.
“It all feels like overkill.”I jiggle my legs a little.“And I’m not good at standing still for this long.It’s honestly getting painful.”
“Do you want to look handsome in your tuxedo, or do you want to look like a little boy who got a hand-me-down from his older brother?”Cornelius mutters from around a mouthful of pins.
“Uh, I don’t have a brother?”The tailor shoots a dirty look from between my legs.“But, okay.I do see your point.And, uh, I guess I would like to look handsome?”Not sure I’ve ever been handsome.Not that anyone’s said.I get adorable a lot.Way too much.
With the wealthy escorting clientele in Belle Argo, I’ve learned “adorable” is code for “I’ve assessed you thoroughly and determined that it would take no effort at all to squash you under my thumb.”
So, if this tailor can pull off handsome, then I suppose I’ll take it.
“He might get more bids if he looks like a little boy,” Adam points out.His dark shoulder-length hair is up in a bun again today.
“Uh…” Is he joking?Because I can’t tell, and now I kind of wish I could disappear.
Literally everyone in the group turns to Adam, making hissing sounds and shut-up gestures.PJ seems to be threatening to slit his throat.
I distinctly remember Eve and Alexis spending an entire brunch one week trying to convince him that man buns were “out,” but considering the way Cornelius’s two female assistants have been eyeing Adam?Not so sure man buns are out, honestly.
“Am I really the only one thinking it?”Adam asks.
“You’re the only one dumb enough to say it out loud, and that’s coming from me,” Dean says.He’s got his long legs awkwardly folded on a love seat that’s too low to the ground.Mostly he’s watching his daughter, who’s across the store, staring in awe at a rack of sparkly dresses.
Michael, on the seat next to Dean, gives him a sharp jab in the ribs.Dean glares daggers back before returning his attention to his daughter.
“Listen,” Troy says with an unusually serious face, “if you really don’t want to do this, we could all talk to Brennan for you.Surely you could come up with the money some other way.”
