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I pushed from the chair and made my way over to him, lacing his fingers with mine. “You only button the top one,” I told him, my voice coming out softly. The suit smelled clean, and that mixed with his natural scent had my head spinning. “You leave the bottom button of the jacket undone.”
I felt Harry’s touch before I realized he’d lifted his hand, and he smoothed my hair behind my ear. My curls made it impossible for the hair to stay there, of course, but the electric trace of his fingertips remained. “Does it look okay?” he asked again.
“Very.”
“Very okay?”
I swallowed hard. “Veryokay.”
“Oh.” Markus tsked when he came back into the dressing room, but when I turned to him, he had on a megawatt grin. “Oh, it’s near perfect! That doesn’t always happen, you know.”
Harry glanced down at his feet as I stepped back. “The pants are supposed to look like this?”
“Of course not,” Margot told him, like a patient parent talking to a confused child. “They’ll hem them.”
She walked closer though, examining every inch of him. If anyone could figure out the faults in the suit, it’d be Margot. She glanced at me before turning to Markus. “Do you have any higher-necked dress shirts?”
My fingers twitched impulsively into a fist. Despite my warring thoughts, I stayed quiet.
“No offense, Harry,” she went on. “With these people, first impressions are everything.”
When I looked back to Harry, I found his fingers touching the collar of the shirt he wore, picking at the stiff fabric. I knew what his answer would be. “I’ll try it on,” he said as Markus herded him back toward the dressing room. “Who knows, I might look sexier in it.”
“Worth a shot,” I responded, trying to match the same vein of humor, but it fell flat.
Margot’s eyes were victorious, which almost made me feel a little worse about this whole situation. Here I was, making Harry cancel his band gig and come to a party filled with people who’d judge him for being himself. I was the worst kind of girlfriend.
To my surprise, Margot smoothed her hand over my shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “It’ll be okay,” she assured, in a voice that oozed confidence. “You’ll see.”
Even though she sounded confident, I couldn’t help but wonder if she truly meant it.
