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The clerk looked down at the suit he carried on a hanger. “This? The last time I rented this out, it was for a magician performing at a child’s birthday party under the name The Tremendous Carl. He died. Lead in the face paint he used. Your friend seems to think this is more your style, and who I am to argue, so long as your credit card isn’t declined?”
The pants were fine. They were black, nothing special. But the coat? Holy shit, thecoatwas the stuff technicolor dreams were made of. It, too, was black but sequined, the lapels a violent shade of purple that had to be a crime against humanity. The bow tie that hung from the hanger was also sequined, glittering in the recessed lighting.
Nick fell irrevocably in love. “I can wear this in public?” he demanded. “And you won’t give me shit over it?”
“Maybe a little,” Jazz said. “But I’ve already spoken with Gibby to make sure Seth has some similar colors so you two match.”
“Give it,” Nick said, snatching the suit from the clerk. “I’ve never wanted to wear anything so badly. My entire life has been building to this moment.”
The clerk grimaced. “Really? I don’t know what that says about you that—ahem, of course, sir. Please try it on, and let’s see how it—sir,sir. Please get changed in the dressing room and stop throwingpants.”
“I like your underwear!” Jazz called after him as he slammed the dressing room door behind him.
When he reappeared a few minutes later, he was transformed.
“Yesssss,” he hissed as he looked at himself in the mirror, arms outstretched as he spun around slowly. “Look at that ass. That’s an ass that says open for business. This—thisis what we came for. I look like a dollar-store disco ball.”
“Is that … a good thing?” the clerk asked.
“It is,” Nick said.
He hadn’t wanted to take it off, but the clerk had been startingto give him the evil eye, so he’d changed back into his street clothes and turned his attention to Jazz. He was impressed with how quickly she could change, disappearing into the changing room and reappearing only moments later in something new. She took his breath away every time she came back out, but Jazz frowned at herself in the mirror, muttering under her breath before heading back into the dressing room in a swirl of lace, her long hair trailing after her.
He never hurried her, knowing Jazz would finish on her own time. He was messing around on his phone when he heard Jazz say, “I think—I think this is it.”
He looked up at the closed door. “Really? Oh man, let me see.”
“Hold on a second. I need to … there. Okay. Close your eyes.”
He shoved his phone back in his pocket and did as she asked. A moment later, the door opened, the sound of her footsteps soft on the carpeted floor. Fabric rustled, and then Jazz said, “Okay. You can look now.”
He opened his eyes.
Jasmine Kensington stood before him, a vision he wasn’t prepared for. The dress she wore was red, long, and flowing, chest covered in patterned lace, a red sash cinched around her waist. The dress extended down to the tops of her bare feet, surrounded by an exterior layer of white lace with red trim that billowed as she spun in a slow circle, eyes sparkling. Her shoulders were exposed, pale and lovely, and she smiled at him as she stopped spinning. “Well, what do you think?”
Nick swallowed thickly. “I think you’re amazing. And the dress is pretty killer too.”
She laughed as she turned back to the mirror. “Thanks, Nicky. I like it too.” She turned back and forth in front of the mirror, looking at herself from all angles. “I think this is the right one. I hope Gibby likes it.”
“Yeah,” Nick said dryly. “I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that. She’s not gonna know what hit her when she sees you. You want to show her now, or do you want to wait, like me and Seth?” Clichéd, perhaps, but he and Seth had decided to wait untilprom night to see each other in their suits for the first time. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Seth’s face when he saw Nick’s dead magician tux.
Jazz gnawed on her bottom lip as she pulled at the sash around her waist. “I think I want to see her now. She was nervous too. I want to show her she doesn’t have to be.”
Nick stood from his chair and bowed comically, one hand behind his back, the other extended toward her, fingers beckoning. “Then, if you would, please allow me the honor of escorting you out of the dressing room.”
She smiled at him as she took his hand in hers. “Don’t mind if I do, good sir.”
Later, when all was said and done, Nick would think back to this moment, the one where Jazz and Gibby saw each other in their fancy dress clothes for the first time. This, he would tell himself, was worth fighting for. Moments like this where nothing else mattered but the happiness of the strong, beautiful women in his life.
“Close your eyes,” Nick told her, pulling her down the hall. He nodded at the clerk who disappeared into the back storage room. “Let it be a surprise.”
She played along, closing her eyes. “I can’t wait to see her.”
“Me too,” Nick said, knowing Seth would’ve done his best for Gibby, like Nick had done for Jazz. Granted, neither of them probably needed the boys’ help, but the fact that they got to be involved made Nick ridiculously happy.
“I’m a little nervous,” Jazz admitted as they reached the door that led out to the front of the shop.
“Why?” Nick asked, looking back at her, hand on the doorknob.
