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He wiggled his eyebrows. Then he dropped into my plush chair and gestured for me to dress up.
What followed during the next few hours was a fashion show, with me being the model, posing in various ways based on Tommie’s commands, and him pretending to take pictures of me.
I channeled my inner Top Model while trying not to face-plant in my high heels. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much fun. If it were up to me, I’d have already chosen five new dresses. As it was, it wasn’t up to me. Tommie had me changing and posing over and over, dismissing every dress, until he suddenly pushed up from his chair.
“Hello, Hervé Léger,” he said, with a shine in his eyes.
Of course, it had to be the bondage-looking one. “It’s kind of tight.”
“It’s a bodycon dress. It’s supposed to be tight.”
“Isn’t this a bit too much with the cleavage and all?”
He eyed me closely. “How does it make you feel?”
“Kind of sexy,” I admitted, eying the dark red fabric.
“Just sexy?”
I turned to the left and right in front of the mirror. “And confident. I feel good.”
He snapped his fingers. “That’s exactly what your outfit is supposed to do. It’s not about the designer labels, though it helps, but more about feeling good when you wear it. The perfect outfit is like armor. It should make you feel like you can conquer the world in a world that throws shit at you.”
I looked up, finding his eyes in the mirror.
“Ignore the shit part.” He looked embarrassed.
“Why? It was the most interesting part.” I’d spent most of my teens in pajamas at the hospital. This idea of a dress being like armor felt right.
He shrugged. “Still, I shouldn’t project on you. It’s just that trying out all these outfits takes me down to memory lane, to a time when I couldn’t wear what I wanted because it wasn’t considered ‘manly.’”
“I don’t think any man can pull off a red suit the way you do.” Then another thought hit me. “Though I have to admit, I’m not the best judge of fashion, since I don’t really have much to compare you to.”
“Jazzy told me you don’t go out much.”
I scoffed. “Try never.”
“Oh?” When I hesitated he said, “I’m nosy. It’s one of my most charming qualities. So I’m guessing you’re a dating virgin?”
“Sadly, yes. Also, yes on the you being nosy part.”
“Yet you like me anyway,” he claimed, making me laugh out loud.
“I do.” I dropped onto my bed. “I really appreciate you doing this, coming to the house of a stranger just to dress me up. Especially since the house is a bit like Fort Knox. Sometimes I feel caged in here.”
He turned rigid. “Is Kristoff not treating you right?” His jaw set, as if ready to take up arms for me.
Tommie was easy to talk to. And even though he was basically a stranger, I told him how Kristoff and I met.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mom, but I’m glad you’re safe here.”
Not the reaction I was expecting. Usually people didn’t equate living with the mob with being safe. I quirked a brow.
He shrugged. “I’m an orphan too, except both my parents are still alive. They just told me I was dead to them.”
Ouch. “We’re going to need chocolate,” I decided. “Lots and lots of chocolate.” I grabbed my phone and called Olga.
“And maybe some cheesecake?” he asked hopefully.
