It’s so bad that for a moment I don’t think he’s breathing and I’m half concerned he might give himself a heart attack.
It’s for his own sake that I find myself inclined to follow after him.
I spin on my heels, squinting at the others suspiciously, “Don’t break anything.”
“Since when doyouneed a new wardrobe?” Xavier watches me with confusion.
“When do I not?” I grin.
The store is huge, even for a city like Seattle, yet there are only a handful of people on the inside. Strictly speaking there’s only one type of money that can walk around in here so leisurely like we can, so it’s why Christian, Julia and I get our own room with walls painted the colour of lush champagne and furnished with navy blue couches. Men’s clothes encircle the room, lining the walls with styles of every kind and even though Christian’s mask is flawless still, his energy vibrates with new discomfort.
He's flustered.
My eyes snap to the source of it, following his gaze to pinpoint the cause of his nervous energy.
And my mood drops like a stone when they land on Julia.
You're joking.
“I'm going to take measurements for some custom suits for you first.” Her smile is professional and bright, completely oblivious to the effect she has on my new recruit and my eyes narrow.
“Then we can work on some other casuals for you later,” she finishes and Christian nods once. She gestures with her hand for him to step forward, circling him and raising his arm to measure him mentally, as she always does.
But the moment she touches him, I can feel myself scowl.
Which doesn’t make any sense.
She’s a tailor.
Tailors touch people.
“Have you thought about a single or double-breasted suit jacket?” she asks.
“It doesn't matter to me.” Christian’s lie is immaculate.
She hums as she turns around to take a look at him, “Are you comfortable with a two-piece or three-piece suit? Oh, and the lapel. We recently received some gorgeous shawl designs. I think they'll suit your build very well.”
Christian doesn't respond, but his energy is doing panicked somersaults behind him.
It's hurting me just to look at him.
I’ve already half-convinced myself that Julia needs to be relocated to a branch closer to the North Pole, until I realize… it isn’t Julia that’s making him panic.
He’s confused.
“I don't know if you heard,” Julia continues as she directs Christian to a room with three mirrors along the walls, “but Jake Gyllenhaal wore something similar to the Gala this year, and since then they've been flying off the racks.”
The confusion filtering into his energy only gets worse.
“I see,” he deadpans.
I cough to hide my chuckle, clearing my throat when he shoots me a puzzled look.
“Hands up.” Julia reaches for the measuring tape on her desk, before turning to look at Christian expectantly.
Christian doesn't move, and I'm tilting my head to one side with a smile on my face as I watch the debacle play out. A smile that all but freezes on my face when Christian steps into her space and leans over her shoulder to whisper in her ear.
Now it's no longer cute. My brain completely stutters and dies.
